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THE 


HISTORY 

OF 

ANCIENT  GREECE, 

ITS 

Colonies  anir  Conquests, 

FROM 

THE  EARLIEST  ACCOUNTS  TILL  THE  DIVISION  OF  THE  MACEDONIAN 
EMPIRE  IN  TPIE  EAST: 

INCLUDING 

THE  HISTORY 

OF 

LITERATURE,  PHILOSOPHY,  ANlJ  THE  FINE  ARTS. 



BY  JOHN  GILLIES,  LL.B.  F.A.S. 


PmLiLDEXiPI-IIil  S 

PUBLISHED  BY  THOMAS  WARDLE. 


1841. 


' 


T.  K.  & P.  G.  COLLINS,  PRINTERS,  PHILA. 


Or  *V\  ^ 

U<V 

TO  THE  KING* 

The  History  of  Greece  exposes  the  dangerous  turbulence  of  Democracy,  and  arraigns 
the  despotism  of  Tyrants.  By  describing  the  incurable  evils  inherent  in  every  form  of  Re- 
publican policy,  it  evinces  the  inestimable  benefits,  resulting  to  Liberty  itself,  from  the  lawful 
dominion  of  hereditary  Kings,  and  the  steady  operation  of  well-regulated  Monarchy.  With 
singular  propriety,  therefore,  the  present  Work  may  be  respectfully  offered  to  your  Majesty,  as 
Sovereign  of  the  freest  nation  upon  earth  ; and  that  Sovereign,  through  whose  discerning  mu- 
nificence, the  interest  of  those  liberal  arts,  which  distinguished  and  ennobled  Greece  beyond 
all  other  countries  of  antiquity,  has  been  more  successfully  promoted  in  Your  Majesty’s  do- 
minions, than  during  any  former  period  in  the  British  annals.  That  Your  Majesty  may  long 
reign  the  illustrious  Guardian  of  public  freedom t and  the  unrivalled  Patron  of  useful  learning, 
is  the  fervent  prayer  of 

YOUR  MAJESTY’S 

Most  dutiful  Subject  and  Servant, 

JOHN  GILLIES. 

London,  > 

Fed.  10, 1786.  S 


rO 

P 

cf 

I 

SIR, 


PREFACE 


The  following  History  commences  with  the  infancy  of  Greece,  and  describes  its  gradual 
advancement  towards  civilization  and  power.  But  the  main  design  of  my  Work  is  confined 
to  the  space  of  seven  centuries,  which  elapsed  from  the  settlement  of  the  Ionians  in  Asia 
Minor  till  the  establishment  of  the  Macedonian  empire  in  the  East;  during  which  memo- 
rable period,  the  arts  and  arms  of  the  Greeks,  conspiring  to  excite  the  admiration  and 
terror  of  the  ancient  world,  justly  merit  the  attentive  study  of  the  present  age,  and  pos- 
terity. In  the  general  revolutions  of  their  national  confederacy,  which,  though  always 
loose  and  imperfect,  was  never  altogether  dissolved,  I have  interwoven  the  description  and 
principal  transactions  of  each  independent  republic,  however  small  or  inconsiderable;  and, 
by  comparing  authors  seldom  read,  and  not  frequently  consulted  for  historical  materials, 
nave  endeavoured  to  trace  the  intricate  series,  and  to  explain  the  secret  connection,  of 
seemingly  detached  events,  in  order  to  reduce  the  scattered  members  of  Grecian  story  into 
one  perpetual  unbroken  narrative ; a design  difficult  indeed,  and  new,  yet  evidently  well 
calculated  to  promote  the  great  purposes  of  pleasure  and  utility. 

In  the  view  which  I have  taken  of  my  subject,  the  fluctuation  of  public  affairs,  and 
the  vicissitudes  of  war  and  fortune,  appears  scarcely  the  most  splendid,  and  surely  not  the 
most  interesting  portion  of  Grecian  history.  By  genius  and  fancy,  not  less  than  by 
patriotism  and  prowess,  the  Greeks  are  honourably  distinguished  among  the  nations  of 
the  earth.  l>y  the  Greeks,  and  by  them  alone,  Literature,  Philosophy,  and  the  Fine  Arts, 
were  treated  as  important  concerns  of  state,  and  employed  as  powerful  engines  of  policy. 
From  their  literary  glory  not  only  their  civil,  but  even  their  military  transactions,  derive 
their  chief  importance  and  dignity.  To  complete,  therefore,  my  present  undertaking,  it 
seemed  necessary  to  unite  the  history  of  arts  with  that  of  empire,  and  to  combine  with 
the  external  revolutions  of  war  and  government,  the  intellectual  improvements  of  men,  and 
the  ever-varying  picture  of  human  opinions  and  manners. 

In  the  execution  of  this  extensive  plan,  might  I assume  any  merit  to  myself,  it  would 
be  that  of  having  diligently  studied  the  Greek  writers,  without  adopting  their  prejudices, 
or  copying  their  narratives  wTith  servility.  Many  events,  highly  interesting  to  the  citizens 
of  Athens  or  of  Sparta,  now  interest  no  more ; concerning  many  important  transactions, 
anciently  too  familiar  to  be  explained,  the  Modern  Reader  will  reasonably  expect  informa- 
tion. On  some  occasions,  therefore,  I found  it  necessary  to  concentrate  and  abridge;  on 
others,  to  dilate  and  expatiate;  but  have  never  sacrificed  that  due  relation  of  parts  to  the 
whole,  and  to  each  other,  or  violated  that  unity  of  design  which  I was  ambitious  to  attain 
in  the  present  History,  by  condescending  to  copy  or  translate.  • In  the  Work  throughout, 
I have  ventured  to  think  for  myself;  and  my  opinions,  whether  well  or  ill  founded,  are,  at 
least,  my  own. 


vi 


PREFACE. 


The  present  History  was  undertaken,  and  a considerable  part  of  it  written,  many  years 
ago,  hy  the  advice  of  some  persons  of  taste  and  learning ; who,  having  read  my  historical 
Introduction  to  the  Orations  of  Lysias  and  Isocrates,  wished  to  see  the  whole  series  of 
Grecian  story,  treated  on  the  same  plan.  My  situation,  and  my  leisure,  enabled  me  to 
meet  their  wish ; but  before  my  manuscript  was  prepared  for  the  Press,  my  studies  were 
interrupted  by  the  only  employment,  not  enjoined  by  some  positive  duty,  which  I should 
have  allowed  (such  are  the  sanguine  hopes  of  authors  1 ) to  suspend  my  literary  labours. 
During  that  long  interval,  different  portions  of  Grecian  history  have  been  ably  treated  in 
English,  as  well  as  in  * foreign  languages.  Yet,  as  most  of  those  works  still  remain 
incomplete,  and  as  none  of  them  embrace  the  whole  extent  of  my  subject,  or  at  all  pre- 
occupy my  plan,  I venture  to  offer  the  present  History,  deeply  sensible  as  I am  of  its 
imperfections,  to  the  indulgence  of  the  Public. 


* Among  the  foreign  works,  I distinguish  with  pleasure  those  of  Mr.  Meiners  of  Gottingen.  To  the  author 
of  this  History  it  would  be  very  flattering  to  find  the  opinions  which  he  hazarded  in  his  introduction  to  Lysias, 
confirmed  in  a subsequent  work  of  such  an  admired  scholar  as  Mr.  Meiners  (see  his  Geschichte  des  Luxus  der 
Athenienser,  Lemgo,  1782,)  were  it  not  extremely  natural  that  writers,  who  draw  from  the  same  sources,  should 
advance  the  same  facts,  and  deduce  similar  conclusions.  In  the  following  History,  my  views  of  the  Pythagorean 
land , and  of  the  Platonic  philosophy , though  sufficiently  remote  from  vulgar  opinion,  nearly  coincide  with  those 
of  Sir.  Meiners  in  his  Geschichte  des  Ursprungs,  Fortgangs,  und  Verfalls  der  Wissenschaften  in  Griechenland : 
that  is,  lt  the  History  of  the  Origin,  Progress,  and  Decay  of  Philosophy  in  Greece ; ” a work  not  yet  completed, 
but  which,  as  far  as  it  extends,  I will  venture  to  recommend  as  one  of  the  most  valuable  and  accurate  treasuries 
of  Greek  learning  contained  in  any  modern  tongue. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP.  I. 

View  of  the  Progress  of  Civilization  and  Power  in 
Greece,  preceding  the  Trojan  War — History  of 


that  War — Its  consequences  . . Page  11 

CHAP.  H. 

Religion — Government — Arts — Manners,  and  Cha- 
racter   22 

CHAP.  III. 


Distracted  State  of  Greece — The  Heraclidae  conduct 
the  Dorians  into  Peloponnesus— Divide  their  Con- 
quests in  that  Peninsula — The  Eolic,  Ionic,  and 
Doric  Migrations — Establishment  of  Colonies  in 
• Thrace,  Macedon,  Africa,  and  Magna  Gracia — In- 
fluence of  the  Ionic  Colonies  in  Asia  on  the  Affairs 
of  the  Mother  Country — The  Abolition  of  Mo- 
narchy in  Greece — New  Disorders  in  that  Coun- 
try— Four  Institutions  which  tended  to  remove 
them — The  Amphictyonic  Council — The  Oracle 
of  Delphi — The  Olympic  Games — The  Spartan 

Laws 32 

CHAP.  IV. 

State  of  Greece  after  the  Abolition  of  Royalty — De- 
scription of  Laconia  and  Messenia — Causes  of  the 
War  between  those  States — Invasion  of  Messenia 
— Distress  of  the  Messenians — The  horrid  Means 
by  which  they  endeavour  to  remedy  it — They  ob- 
tain assistance  from  Argos  and  Arcadia — Their 
Capital  taken  by  the  Spartans — Issue  of  the  first 
Messenian  War — State  of  Greece — The  Colony 
of  Tarentum  founded — The  second  Messenian 
War — Character  and  Exploits  of  Aristomenes — 
The  Distress  of  the  Spartans — They  obtain  Assist- 
ance from  Athens — The  Poet  Tyrtaeus — Subjuga- 
tion of  Messenia — Future  Fortunes  of  its  Citizens — 
Their  Establishment  in  Sicily  . . .48 

CHAP.  V. 

State  of  the  Peloponnesus  after  the  Conquest  of  Mes- 
senia— Of  the  Northern  Republics  of  Greece — Of 
the  Grecian  Colonies — Revolutions  in  Govern- 
ment— Military  Transactions — The  first  Sacred 
War — Destruction  of  the  Crissean  Republic — Res- 
toration of  the  Pythian  Games — Description  of  the 
Gymnastic  and  Equestrian  Exercises — History  of 

Grecian  Music 61 

CHAP.  VI. 

The  Grecian  Bards — Heroic  Poetry — Change  of 
Manners — Iambic  or  Satire — Elegy — Tyrtceus,  Cal- 
linus,  Mimnermus — Life  of  Archilochus — Terpan- 
der — Lyric  Poetry — The  Nine  Lyric  Poets — 
Sappho,  Alcajus,  Anacreon,  Myrtis,  Corinna,  Pin- 
dar— Effects  of  the  Sacred  Games — Strength — 
Courage — Contempt  of  Prejudices — Taste — Moral 
Principle — Intellectual  Powers — Genius  . 71 

CHAP.  VII. 

State  of  the  Grecian  Colonies — The  Ionians  flourish 
in  Arts  and  Arms — Their  Wars  with  the  Lydians 
— The  Asiatic  Greeks  subdued  byCrasus — Splen- 
dour of  the  Lydian  Court — Foundation  of  the  Per- 
sian Monarchy — Causes  of  its  rapid  Grandeur — 
Which  alarms  Croesus — Ilis  Alliance  with  the 
Lacedajmonians — He  invades  the  Persian  Domin- 
ions— Measures  of  his  Allies — Croesus  defeated  by 
Cyrus — End  of  the  Lydian  Monarchy  . . 81 


CHAP.  VIII. 

Cyrus  threatens  the  Asiatic  Colonies — Their  Mea- 
sures— The  Spartans  remonstrate  against  his  De- 
sign— Conquests  of  Harpagus — Migrations  of  the 
vanquished  Greeks — Cyrus  takes  Babylon — Cam- 
byses  subdues  Egypt — Receives  Tribute  from  the 
African  Greeks — Reign  of  Darius — Final  Settle- 
ment of  the  Persian  Empire — Degeneracy  of  Man- 
ners— Revolt  of  Ionia — State  of  Greece — The  Ioni- 
an revolt  abetted  by  the  Athenians  and  Eretrians — 
who  burn  Sardis — The  Asiatic  Greeks  defeated 
by  Sea  and  Land — Their  Condition  under  the 
Persian  Government 91 

CHAP.  IX. 

Resentment  of  Darius  against  Greece — Maritime  Ex- 
pedition of  Mardonius — Invasion  of  Greece  by  Da- 
tis  and  Artaphernes — Battle  of  Marathon — Trans- 
actions in  the  Interval  between  that  Battle  and 
Xerxes’s  Invasion — The  Invasion  of  Xerxes — Bat- 
tle of  Thermopylae 104 

CHAP.  X. 

Sea  Fight  off  Artemisium — Xerxes  ravages  Phocis — 
Enters  Attica — Magnanimity  of  the  Athenians — 
Sea  Fight  off  Salamis — Xerxes  leaves  Greece — His 
miserable  Retreat — Campaign  of  Mardonius — Bat- 
tles of  Platasa  and  Mycale — Issue  of  the  Persian 

Invasion 120 

CHAP.  XI. 

Military  Glory  of  Greece — Enemies  to  whom  that 
Country  was  exposed — Foundation  and  Growth  of 
Carthage — The  flourishing  Condition  of  Magna 
Gracia — Excites  the  Jealousy  of  the  Carthaginians 
— Who  enter  into  a League  with  Xerxes — The 
Object  of  this  Alliance — Causes  of  the  singular 
Prosperity  of  Magna  Gracia — History  of  Pythago- 
ras, and  of  his  Philosophy — The  Carthaginians 
invade  Sicily — Their  Disasters — Glory  of  Gelon — 
His  Treaty  with  the  Carthaginians — Causes  of  the 
Decay  of  Magna  Gracia  ....  136 

CHAP.  XII. 

Glory  of  Athens — Military  Success  of  the  Confede- 
rates— Athens  rebuilt  and  fortified — Extent  of  its 
walls  and  Harbours — The  Confederates  take  By- 
zantium— Conspiracy  of  Pausanias — Banishment 
of  Themistocles — Virtue  of  Aristides — Cimon  as- 
sumes the  Command — His  illustrious  Merit  and 
Success — Revolt  of  Egypt — War  in  Cyprus — 
Peace  with  Persia — Domestic  Transactions  of 
Greece — The  Athenian  Greatness — Envy  of  Spar- 
ta, Thebes,  and  Argos — Earthquake  in  Sparta — 
Revolt  of  the  Helots — War  between  the  Elians 
and  Pisans — The  Temple  and  Statue  of  Olympian 
Jupiter — Dissensions  in  Argolis — Revolt  in  Boeotia 
Truce  of  Thirty  Years — Character  of  Pericles — 
Subjection  of  the  Athenian  Allies  and  Colonies — 
Spirit  of  the  Athenian  Government  . . 147 

CHAP.  XIII. 

Transition  to  the  internal  State  of  Athens — Laws 
of  Draco — Solon — Pisistratus — Clisthenes — Aris- 
tides— Pericles — Final  Settlement  of  the  Athenian 
Government — View  of  the  Athenian  Empire — The 
combined  Effect  of  external  Prosperity  and  demo- 
cratic government  on  manners — Arts — Luxury — 


CONTENTS. 


viii 


History  of  Grecian  Literature  and  Philosophy — 
Singular  Contrast  and  Balance  of  Virtues  and 
Vices — The  sublime  Philosophy  of  Anaxagoras 
and  Socrates — The  unprincipled  Captiousness  of 
the  Sophists — The  moral  Tragedies  of  Sophocles 
and  Euripides — The  licentious  Buffoonery  of  Aris- 
tophanes— The  imitative  Arts  employed  to  the 
noblest  Purposes — and  abused  to  the  most  infa- 
mous— Magnificence  of  public  Festivals — Simplici- 
ty in  private  Life — Modest  Reserve  of  Athenian 
Women — Voluptuousness,  Impudence,  and  Arti- 
fices of  the  School  of  Aspasia  . . . 161 

CHAP.  XIV. 

History  of  the  Arts  of  Design — Superiority  of  the 
Greeks  in  those  Arts — Causes  of  that  Superiority  — 
Among  the  Asiatic  Greeks — Who  communicated 
their  Inventions  to  Europe — Bathycles  the  Magne- 
sian— Dipenus  and  Scillis — Imitated  in  Greece, 
Italy,  and  Sicily — The  Athenians  surpass  their 
Masters — Sublime  Style  of  Art — Works  of  Phidias, 
Polygnotus,  &c. — Characteristic  Excellence  of 
Grecian  Art — Different  Impressions  made  by 
Painters  and  Poets — Depended  on  the  Nature  of 

their  respective  Arts 176 

CHAP.  XV. 

Causes  of  the  Peloponnesian  War — Rupture  between 
Corinth  and  its  Colony  Corcyra — Sea  Fights — In- 
solence and  Cruelty  of  the  Corcyreans — They  pro- 
voke the  Resentment  of  the  Peloponnesians — Ob- 
tain the  Protection  of  Athens — are  defeated  by  the 
Corinthians — Who  dread  the  Resentment  of 
Athens — Their  Scheme  for  rendering  it  impotent 
— Description  of  the  Macedonian  Coast.  It  revolts 
from  Athens — Siege  of  Potidaea — General  Con- 
federacy against  Athens — Peloponnesian  Embassy 
— Its  Demands  firmly  answered  by  Pericles — His 
Speech  to  the  Athenians — The  Thebans  surprise 
Platsea — Preparations  for  War  on  both  Sides — In- 
vasion of  Attica — Operations  of  the  Athenian  Fleet 
— Plague  in  Athens — Calamitous  Situation  of  that 
'Republic — Magnanimity  of  Pericles — Firmness  of 
his  last  Advice — His  Death  and  Character  . 181 
CHAP.  XVI. 

Subsequent  Events  of  the  War — Plataea  taken — Re- 
volt of  Lesbos — Description  and  History  of  that 
Island — Nature  of  its  political  Connection  with 
Athens — Address  of  Lesbos — Its  Capital  besieged 
by  the  Athenians — Measures  of  the  Peloponnesians 
for  relieving  it — Mitylene  surrenders — Delibera- 
tions in  Athens  concerning  the  Treatment  of  the 
Prisoners — Resettlement  of  the  Affairs  of  Lesbos 
— The  Corinthians  foment  Factions  in  Corcyra — 
Sedition  in  that  Island — The  contending  Factions 
respectively  supported  by  the  Athenians  and  Pelo- 
ponnesians— Progress,  Termination,  and  Conse- 
quences of  the  Sedition  ....  194 
CHAP.  XVII. 

Physical  Calamities  conspire  with  the  Evils  of  War 
— Athenian  Expedition  into  yEtolia — Victories  of 
Demosthenes — He  fortifies  Pylus — Blocks  up  the 
Spartans  in  Sphacteria — The  Spartans  solicit 
Peace — Artifices  and  Impudence  of  Cleon — His 
unmerited  Success — Ridiculed  by  Aristophanes — 
Athenian  Conquests — Battle  of  Delium — Commo- 
tions in  Thrace — Expedition  of  Brasidas — Truce 
for  a Year — The  War  renewed — Battle  of  Am- 
phipolis — Peace  of  Nicias — Dissatisfaction  of  the 
Spartan  Allies  . ...  203 

CHAP.  XVIII. 

Discontents  fomented  by  the  Corinthians — The  Ar- 
give  Alliance — To  which  Athens  accedes — Birth 
and  Education  of  Alcibiades — His  Friendship  with 
Socrates — His  Character — And  Views — Which 
are  favoured  by  the  State  of  Greece — He  deceive:, 
the  Spartan  Ambassadors — Renewal  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian War — Battle  of  Mantinaea — Tumults  in 
Argos — Massacre  of  the  Scioneans — Cruel  Con- 
quest of  Melos 212 


CHAP.  XIX. 

Alcibiades  promotes  the  Sicilian  Expedition — Revo* 
lutions  in  that  Island — Embassy  to  Athens— Ex- 
travagant Views  of  Alcibiades — Opposed  by  Nicias 
— The  Athenians  prepare  to  invade  Sicily — Their 
Armament  beheld  with  Suspicion  by  the  Italian 
States — Deliberations  concerning  the  Mode  of 
carrying  on  the  War — Alcibiades  takes  Catana  by 
Stratagem — His  Intrigues  in  Messene — He  is  un- 
seasonably recalled  to  Athens — Charged  with  Trea- 
son and  Impiety — Escapes  to  Sparta — Nicias  de- 
termines to  attack  Syracuse — Description  of  that 
City — The  Athenians  prevail  in  a Battle — Return 

to  Catana  and  Naxos 219 

CHAP.  XX. 

Preparations  for  the  ensuing  Campaign — The  Athe- 
nians begin  the  Siege  with  Vigour — Distress  and 
Sedition  in  Syracuse — Arrival  of  Gylippus — Who 
defeats  the  Athenians — Transactions  in  Greece — A 
second  Armament  arrives  at  Syracuse — Its  first 
operations  successful — The  Athenians  defeated — 
Prepare  to  raise  the  Siege — Naval  Engagement  in 
the  Great  Harbour — Despondency  of  the  Atheni- 
ans— Stratagem  of  Hermocrates — The  Athenians 
raise  their  Camp — Melancholy  Firmness  of  Nicias 
— Demosthenes  capitulates — Nicias  surrenders — 
Cruel  Treatment  of  the  Athenian  Captives — Singu- 
lar Exception 228 

CHAP.  XXI. 

Consequences  of  the  Athenian  Misfortunes  in  Sicily 
— Formidable  Confederacy  against  Athens — Pecu- 
liar Resources  of  free  Governments — Naval  Opera- 
tions— Battle  of  Miletus — Intrigues  of  Alcibiades — 
The  Athenian  Democracy  subverted — Tyrannical 
Government  of  the  Four  Hundred — Battle  of 
Eretria — Democracy  re-established  in  Athens — ■ 
Naval  Success  of  the  Athenians — Triumphant  Re- 
turn of  Alcibiades — The  Eleusinian  Mysteries — 

and  Plynteria 239 

CHAP.  XXII. 

Character  of  Lysander — His  Conference  with  Cyrus 
— He  defeats  the  Athenian  Fleet — Disgrace  of  Al- 
cibiades— Lysander  succeeded  by  Callicratidas — 
His  Transactions  with  the  Persians — with  the 
Spartaa  Allies — Battle  of  Arginussae — Trial  of  the 
Athenian  Admirals — Eteonicus  checks  a Mutiny 
of  the  Peloponnesian  Troops — Lysander  resumes 
the  Command — Battle  of  Algos  Potamos — Spartan 
Empire  in  Asia — Siege  and  Surrender  of  Athens — 
Humiliation  of  the  Athenians  . . . 251 

CHAP.  XXIII. 

Rapacity  and  Cruelty  of  the  Spartan  Government — 
The  Thirty  Tyrants  in  Athens — Persecution  of 
Lysias  and  his  Family — Theramenes  opposes  the 
Tyrants — Sanguinary  Speech  of  Critias — Death  of 
Theramenes — Persecution  and  Death  of  Alcibia- 
des— Thrasybulus  seizes  Phyle — Defeats  the  Ty- 
rants— Memorable  Speech  of  Thrasybulus — Oath 
of  Amnesty — not  faithfully  observed  . . 262 

CHAP.  XXIV. 

Accusation  of  Socrates — Artifices  of  his  Accusers — 
His  Defence — Condemnation — Address  to  the 
Judges — His  Conversation  in  Prison — and  Death 
— Transient  Persecution  of  his  Disciples — Writings 
of  Cebes — Machines — State  of  Philosophy — Of 
the  Fine  Arts — Of  Literature — Herodotus — Thu- 
cydides— Xenophon — Transition  to  the  public 
Transactions  of  Greece — The  Spartans  invade 
Elis — The  Messenians  driven  from  Greece — His- 
tory of  Cyrene — Of  Sicily — War  with  Carthage — 
Siege  of  Agrigentum— Reign  of  Dionysius — Sicily 
the  first  Province  of  Rome  ....  269 
CHAP.  XXV. 

Death  of  Darius  Nothus — Cyrus  disputes  the  Succes- 
sion with  his  elder  Brother  Artaxerxes— Character 
of  Cyrus — State  of  Lower  Asia  under  his  Adminis- 
tration—His  Strength  and  Resouroes— His  expe- 


CONTENTS. 


is 


dition  into  Upper  Asia — Descries  the  vast  Army  of 
his  Brother — Battle  of  Canaxa — Death  of  Cyrus — 
His  Grecian  Auxiliaries  victorious — Their  Treaty 
with  Tissaphemes — Perfidious  Assassination  of 
the  Grecian  Generals — Artaxerxes  sends  to  the 
Greeks  to  demand  their  Arms — Conference  on  that 

Subject 281 

CHAP.  XXVI. 

Consternation  of  the  Greeks — Manly  Advice  of 
Xenophon — Their  Retreat — Difficulties  attending 
it — Surmounted  by  their  Skill  and  Perseverance — 
Their  Sufferings  among  the  Carduchian  Moun- 
tains— They  traverse  Armenia — First  behold  the 
Sea  from  Mount  Theches — Defeat  the  Colchians — 
Description  of  the  southern  Shore  of  the  Euxine — 
Transactions  with  the  Greek  Colonies  there — The 
Greeks  arrive  at  Byzantium — Enter  into  the-Service 
of  Seuthes — His  History — Conjunct  Expeditions 
of  the  Greeks  and  Thracians — The  Greeks  return 
to  the  Service  of  their  Country  . » . . 289 

CHAP.  XXVII. 

Tissaphemes  makes  War  on  the  Greeks,  by  Order 
of  Artaxerxes — Attacks  the  ADolian  Cities — Expedi- 
tion of  Thimbron — He  is  succeeded  by  Dercylli- 
das — His  Treaty  with  Tissaphemes— Agesilaus 
King  of  Sparta — Cinadon’s  Conspiracy — Agesilaus 
Commander  of  the  Grecian  Forces  in  Asia — His 
Success — Tissaphemes  succeeded  by  Tithraustes 
— Great  Views  of  Agesilaus — War  rekindled  in 
Greece — League  against  Sparta — Campaign  of  Ly- 
sander  in  Boeotia — His  Death  . . . 297 

CHAP.  XXVIII. 

Recal  of  Agesilaus  from  the  East — He  invades  Boeotia 
— Views  of  Evagoras  king  of  Cyprus — His  Friend- 
ship with  Conon — The  latter  entrusted  with  the 
Persian  Fleet — He  defeats  the  Lacedaemonians — 
Battle  ofCoronaea — The  Corinthian  War — Conon 
rebuilds  the  Walls  and  Harbours  of  Athens — Con- 
quests of  Conon  and  Thrasybulus — Peace  of  An- 

talcidas 305 

CHAP.  XXIX. 

Reflections  upon  the  Peace  of  Antalcidas — Ambi- 
tious Views  of  Sparta — State  of  Arcadia — Siege 
of  Mantinaea — Olynthian  Confederacy — The  Spar- 
tans make  War  on  Olynthus — Submission  of  that 
Republic — Pella  becomes  the  Capital  of  Macedon 
— Phaebidas  seizes  the  Theban  Citadel— The  Mea- 
sure approved  by  Agesilaus — Conspiracy  of  the 
Theban  Exiles — The  Theban  Democracy  re- 
stored   313 

CHAP.  XXX. 

The  Boeotian  War — Unsuccessful  Attempt  of  Spho- 
drias  against  the  Piraeus — Doubts  concerning 
Xenophon’s  Account  of  that  Transaction — Agesi- 
laus invades  Boeotia — Military  Success  of  the  The- 
bans— Naval  Success  of  the  Athenians — Congress 
for  Peace  under  the  Mediation  of  Artaxerxes — 
Epaminondas,  Deputy  from  Thebes — Cleombrotus 
invades  Boeotia — Battle  of  Leuctra — State  ofGreece 
— Jason  of  Thessaly — His  Character  and  Views — 
Assassinated  in  the  midst  of  his  Projects  . 321 
CHAP.  XXXI. 

Tumults  in  the  Peloponnesus — Invasion  of  Laconia 
— Epaminondas  rebuilds  Messene — Foundation  of 
Megalopolis — Archidamus  restores  the  Fortune  of 
Sparta — Affairs  of  Thessaly  and  Macedon — Nego- 
tiations for  Peace — The  Pretensions  of  Thebes  re- 
jected— Epaminondas  invades  the  Peloponnesus 
— Revolutions  in  Achaia — Speech  of  Archidamus 
in  the  Spartan  Council — Designs  of  Thebes — Dis- 
concerted by  Athens — Pelopidas’s  Expedition  into 
Thessaly — The  Arcadians  seize  the  Olympic  Trea- 
sure— Battle  of  Mantinaea — Agesilaus’s  Expedition 

into  Egypt 332 

CHAP.  XXXII. 

State  of  Greece  after  the  Battle  of  Mantinaea — The 
Amphictyonic  Council — Returning  Prosperity  of 
B 


Athens — Vices  resulting  from  its  Government- - 
Abuses  of  the  judiciary  Power — Of  the  Theatre — 
Degeneracy  of  Grecian  Music — Extreme  Profli- 
gacy of  the  Athenians — The  Vices  of  Chares  ren- 
der him  the  Idol  of  the  Multitude — The  Social 
War — Banishment  of  Timotheus  and  Iphicrates — 
Disgraceful  Issue  of  the  War — Philosophy — Statu- 
ary— Praxiteles — The  Cnidian  Venus — Painting — 
Pamphilus,  Nicias,  Zeuxis — Literature— Xenophon 
— His  Military  Expeditions — Religious  and  Liter- 
ary Retreat — Lysias — Isocrates — Plato — His  Tra- 
vels— Fie  settles  in  the  Academy — His  great 
Views — Theology — Cosmogony — Doctrine  of 
Ideas — Of  the  Human  Understanding — The  Pas- 
sions— Virtues — State  of  Retribution — Genius  and 

Character 351 

CHAP.  XXXIII. 

History  of  Macedon — Reign  of  Archelaus — Series 
of  Usurpations  and  Revolutions — Perdiccas  defeat- 
ed by  the  Illyrians — Distracted  State  of  Macedon 
— First  Transactions  of  Philip — State  of  Thrace 
and  Pasonia — Philip  defeats  Argaeus  and  the  Athe- 
nians— His  Treatment  of  the  Prisoners — His  mili- 
tary Arrangements — He  defeats  the  Illyrians — His 
Designs  against  Amphipolis — He  prevents  an  Alli- 
ance between  Athens  and  Olynthus — Amuses  the 
Athenians — Takes  Amphipolis — His  Conquests  in 
Thrace — The  Mines  of  Crenidae — Philip  marries 
Olympias — His  Letter  to  Aristotle  . . 365 

CHAP.  XXXIV. 

Philip’s  Prosperity — Imprudent  Measures  of  the 
Amphictyonic  Council- -The  Phocian,  or  Sacred 
War — Philomelus  seizes  the  Temple  of  Delphh — 
Takes  the  Field  against  the  Thebans  and  their 
Allies — Defeat  and  Death  of  Philomelus — Affairs 
of  Thrace,  Macedon,  and  Attica — Onemarchus 
takes  the  Command  of  the  Phocians — Encounters 
Philip  in  Thessaly — He  is  defeated  and  slain — 
Philip’s  Designs  against  Olynthus  and  Byzantium 
— Traversed  by  the  Athenians — Phayllus  takes  the 
Comjnand  of  the  Phocians — Philip  marches  to- 
wards Thermopylae — Anticipated  by  the  Athenians 
•^Debiosthenes’s  first  Philippic — Philip’s  Occupa- 
tions at  Pella — His  Vices  and  Policy.  . . 374 

T'^AP.  XXXV. 

Negligence  and  Licentiousness  of  the  Athenians — 
Philip’s  Intrigues  in  Eubcea — Phocion  defeats  the 
Macedonians  ™nd  Euboeans — Philip  invades  the 
Olynthian  Territory — Demosthenes’s  Orations  in 
favour  of  the  Olynthians — Expedition  of  Chares — 
Philip  takes  Olynthus — Celebrates  the  Festival  of 
the  Muses  at  Dium — Commits  naval  Depredations 
on  Attica — Flis  Embassy  to  Athens — The  Atheni- 
an Embassy  to  Philip — Character  of  the  Ambassa- 
dors— Their  Conference  with  the  King — Differ- 
ently reported  to  the  Senate  and  Assembly — 
Philip’s  Conquests  in  Thrace — The  Phocian  War 
— Negotiations — Philip’s  Intrigues — Decree  of  the 
Amphictyons  against  Phocis — Executed  by  Philip 
— Macedon  acknowledged  the  principal  Member 
of  the  Amphictyonic  Council  . . . 383 

CHAP.  XXXVI. 

Foundation  of  Philippopolis  and  Cabyla — Philip’s 
Expedition  to  Illyria — Alexander  receives  the  Per- 
sian Ambassadors — Affairs  of  Greece — Demosthe- 
nes unmasks  the  Designs  of  Philip’s  Expedition  to 
the  Peloponnesus — to  Epirus — to  Thrace — Dio- 
peithes  opposes  him  with  Vigour — The  Athenians 
recover  Euboea — Siege  of  Pcrinthus — Philip’s  Let- 
ter to  the  Athenians — Expedition  of  Chares — of 
Phocion — who  retrieves  the  Athenian  Affairs  in 
Thrace — Philip’s  Scythian  Expedition — The  In- 
cendiary Antiphon — Philip’s  Intrigues  embroil  the 
Affairs  of  Greece — The  third  Sacred  War — Philip 
General  of  the  Amphictyons — Confederacy  against 
that  Prince — Fie  seizes  Elataea — Battle  of  Chaero- 
naea — Ilis  Moderation  in  Victory — Demosthenes’s 
Oration  in  Honour  of  the  Slain  . . . 400 


CONTENTS. 


2 


chap,  xxxrn 

Liberal  Spirit  of  the  Macedonian  Government — Philip 
appointed  General  of  the  Greeks — Rebellion  of 
Illyria — Assassination  of  Philip — His  Character — 
Accession  of  Alexander — His  Expedition  against 
the  Illyrians  and  Triballi — He  passes  the  Danube — 
Rebellion  in  Greece — Destruction  of  Thebes — 
Heroism  of  Timoclea — Alexander  crosses  the 
Hellespont — State  of  the  Persian  Empire — Battle 
of  the  Granicus — Siege  of  Miletus  and  Halicarnas- 
sus— Bold  Adventure  of  two  Macedonian  Soldiers 
— Alexander’s  judicious  Plan  of  War — ;Arts  by 
which  he  secured  his  Conquests — The  Battle  of 
Issus — The  Virtues  of  Alexander  expand  with  his 
Prosperity 421 

CHAP,  xxxvm. 

Siege  of  Tyre — Desperate  Resistance  of  Gaza — Easy 
Conquest  of  Egypt — Foundation  of  Alexandria — 
Alexander  visits  the  Temple  of  Jupiter  Ammon — 
Marches  into  Assyria — Battle  of  Gaugamela — Da- 
rius betrayed  and  slain — Alexander  pursues  the 
Murderers  of  Darius — Bactrian  and  Scythian  War 
— Siege  of  the  Sogdian  Fortress — Surrender  of 
Chorienes — Commotions  in  Greece — Checked  by 
Antipater — The  Cause  of  Ctesiphon  and  Demos- 
thenes— Machines  banished — State  of  Greece  dur- 
ing Alexander’s  Reign  ....  436 
CHAP.  XXXIX. 

Alexander’s  Indian  Expedition — Route  pursued  by 


the  Army — Aornos  taken — Nysa  and  Mount  Me* 
ros — Alexander  passes  the  Indus  and  Hydaspes — 
Defeats  Porus — Founds  Nicaea  and  Bucephalia — 
Passes  the  Acesines  and  Hydraotes — Sangala 
taken — Eastern  Boundary  of  Alexander’s  Con- 
quests— He  sailfe  down  the  Hydaspes — Takes  the 
Mallian  Fortress — His  March  through  the  Gedro- 
sian  Desert — Voyage  of  Nearchus — Alexander  im- 
proves the  internal  State  of  his  Conquests — Incor- 
porates the  Barbarian  Levies  with  the  Greeks  and 
Macedonians — Intermarriages  of  the  Europeans 
and  Asiatics — Artifices  to  prevent  Alexander’s  Re- 
turn to  Babylon — His  Death  and  Character — Divi- 
sion of  his  Conquests — Subsequent  History  of 
Egypt  and  Syria — The  Western  Division  of  Alex- 
ander’s Empire  conquered  by  the  Romans — State 
of  Greece  after  the  age  of  Alexander  . 448 


CHAP.  XL. 

State  of  Literature  in  the  Age  of  Alexander — Poetry 
— Music — Arts  of  Design — Geography — Astrono- 
my— Natural  History — Works  of  Aristotle — Phi- 
losophical Sects  established  at  Athens — Decline 
of  Genius — Tenets  of  the  different  Sects — Peripa- 
tetic Philosophy — Estimate  of  that  Philosophy — Its 
Fate  in  the  World — Coincidence  in  the  Opinions 
of  Zeno  and  Epicurus — The  Stoic  Philosophy — 
Estimate  of  that  Philosophy— The  Epicurean 
Philosophy — Character  of  Epicurus — Philosophy 
of  Pyrrho — Conclusion  ....  463 


JW 


THE 


HISTORY  OF  G 


Cti 


View  of  the  Progress  of  Civilisation  and  Pm  ,i  Greece,  preceding  the  Trojan  War — History 
of  that  War — its  Consequences. 


■N  the  infancy  of  society,  men  ttre 
^ with  the  business  of  the  resent  hour,  for- 


upied 


netful  of  the  past,  a 
■They  possess  neithei 
iqontemplate  their  pu' 
partial  light  of  hist/o 
toj  record  thei 
host^e,trif  .'s  ; 
or  comr. 


r-  s of  the  future, 
lor  inclination  to 
actions  in  the  im- 
r less  to  treasure,  and 
•ecent  victories  over 
d in  the  artless  song,1 
rude  monument ; but 


to}  prt 
ever: 

IT‘  iS 


ic  trar 
y'ory,  far  1 
'Their  rec 
;elebn 
l by  tl 

regular  series  of  connected 
n which  they  enjoy  not  the 
scarcely  the  capacity  to  eom- 


KjfTheir  s;  aiple  and  obscure  adventures,  which 
pass  unremembered  by  themselves,  rarely 
9&ite  iKe  inquisitive  curiosity  of  their  more 
ffijltivattcd  neighbours.  In  remote  ages  of  the 
HHB  o.r’id,  one  people  became  an  object  of  attention 
another,  only  as  they  became  considerable  ; 
r until  the  full  maturity  of  Grecian  refine- 
ent,  the  most  polished  nations  of  antiquity 
Attempted  not  to  investigate  the  nature  and 
powers  of  man  in  the  untutored  efforts  of  sa- 
vage life.  The  daring  spirit,  and  fierce  incur- 
sapns,  of  the  barbarians  in  the  east  of  Europe, 
excited  terror  and  consternation  among  the 
more  fcivilized  and  more  effeminate  inhabitants 
qf  Lesser  Asia  ;2  but  the  luxurious  pride  of  the 
latter  never  condescended  to  examine  the  origin 
and  history  of  the  people  who  were  occasionally 
the  object  of  their  fears.  The  only  circum- 
stantial information  concerningboththe  Asiatics 
and  the  Europeans,  must  be  derived  from  the 
early  historians  of  Greece ; and  when  we  reflect 
on  the  innumerable  causes  which  conspire  to 
bury  in  oblivion  the  exploits  of  rising  commu- 
nities, there  is  reason  to  wonder  that  we  should 
know  so  much  concerning  the  ancient  state  of 
that  country,  rather  than  to  regret  that  our 
knowledge  is  imperfect. 

It  must  be  allowed,  however,  that  our  mate- 
rials for  the  first  portion  of  Grecian  history,  are 
father  copious  than  consistent.3  The  subject, 


£ 1 Tacit.  Annal.  1.  iv.  c.  43. 

f 2 The  Lydians,  Phrygians,  &c.  History  and  fable  attest 
the  early  civilization,  the  wealth,  and  wickedness,  of  those 
nations.  See  particularly  Herodotus,  1.  i.  c.  93.  & seq.  and 
Strabo,  1.  xi.  p.  532.  Sc  seq.  and  1.  xii.  & xiii.  p.  572. 

3 It  is  sufficient  to  read  Thucydides’s  introduction  to  his 
admired  history  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  to  perceive  how 

Jittle  correct  information  could  be  obtained  by  that  diligent 


indeed,  is  such,  as  a very  cautious  writer  would 
choose  entirely  to  avoid,  since,  whatever  au- 
thorities he  follows,  his  narrative  must,  in  some 
parts,  be  liable  to  objection.4  Yet  it  seems  es- 


inquirer  into  the  antiquities  of  his  country.  If  we  admit 
the  common  chronology,  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  the 
scattered  fragments  of  Grecian  history  were  preserved  du- 
ring thirteen  centuries  by  oral  tradition.  The  tales  or 
rhapsodies  of  the  o4oiS'o<,or  bards,  were  succeeded  by  those 
of  the  Cyclic  poets,  of  whom  an  account  is  given  in  Casau- 
bon  Athenaeum,  1.  vii.  c.  4.  Salmas,  in  Solin.  et  Schwarzius 
Altdorf  in  Diss.  de  Poetis  Cyclicis.  Composition  in  prose 
began  with  the  use  of  alphabetic  writing  about  six  centu- 
ries before  Christ.  Plin.  Nat.  Hist.  1.  v.  c.  29.  The  first 
prose  writers,  or  more  properly  the  first  writers , were, 
Pherecydes  of  Syros;  Acusilaus  of  Argos;  Hellanicus  of 
Lesbos ; Hecataeus  and  Dionysius,  both  of  Miletus ; the 
last  of  whom  flourished  in  the  65th  Olymp.  520.  B.  C.  and 
immediately  preceded  Herodotus.  From  the  work  of  He- 
rodotus, which  forms,  as  it  were,  the  shade  between  Epic 
Poetry  and  History,  we  may  judge  of  the  waitings  of  his 
predecessors ; from  whom,  together  with  the  Cyclic  poets, 
Anaximenes  of  Lampsacus,  who  lived  in  the  time  of  Alex- 
ander the  Great,  and  Diodorus  Siculus,  who  lived  in  the 
time  of  Julius  Caesar,  compiled  the  first  books  of  their 
very  extensive  but  inaccurate  collections.  Apollodorus, 
Hyginus  (and  many  others,  whose  works  are  now  lost,) 
combined  the  more  ancient  records,  whether  in  prose  or 
verse,  with  the  additions  and  embellishments  of  the  lyric 
and  tragic  poets.  When  the  Greek  learning  became 
known  to  the  Romans,  this  compound  of  history  and  fable 
furnished  the  subject  and  the  incidents  of  innumerable  tra- 
gedies to  Ennius,  Accius,  Livius  Andronicus,  &c.  After  the 
downfall  of  Rome,  learning  took  refuge  in  the  eastern 
world.  The  antiquities  and  early  history  of  Greece  again 
became  objects  of  study  among  the  natives  of  lhat  coun- 
try; but  the  heterogeneous  mass  of  truth  and  fiction  was 
rather  amalgamated,  than  purified,  by  Malala,  Cedrenus, 
Tzetza,  Constantinus  Manasses,  and  other  Greeks  of  the 
middle  ages.  See  Heine,  Not.  ad  Adneid.  II.  and  Vossius 
de  Historic.  Grtecis.  With  few  exceptions,  the  Greek  wri- 
ters may  be  pronounced  extremely  careless  in  matters  of 
chronology.  Herodotus,  who  has  been  emphatically  styled 
the  father  of  profane  history,  commonly  reckons  by  the  ages 
of  men.  The  accurate  histories  of  Thucydides  and  Xeno- 
phon, where  the  time  of  each  event  is  precisely  ascertained, 
comprehend  no  more  than  a period  of  seventy  years.  Even 
in  their  time,  chronology  seems  not  to  have  been  cultivated 
as  a science,  since  the  first  specimen  ot  that  kind  is  said  to 
have  been  given  by  Demetrius  Phalerius,  in  his  xgxovrui v 
about  the  middle  of  the  fourth  century  before 
Christ.  The  labours  of  Demetrius  were  corrected  and  ex- 
tended by  Philochorus  in  his  At9<$.  The  historian  Timueus, 
who  flourished  in  the  time  of  Ptolemy  Philadelphus,  first 
arranged  his  narrative  in  the  order  ot  Olympiads,  which 
began  776  B.  C.  His  contemporary  Snsibius  gave  a work, 
entitled  Xfovwv  Avxyestcpq)  Apollodorjs  wrotetheo-vvia?*? 
xe ovixh  ; and  on  such  chronologcrs  rests  the  credit  of  ail 
later  compilers,  as  well  ns  of  the  Arundelian  marbles, 
which  were  composed  only  284  years  before  Christ. 

4 What  Strabo  (1.  ix.)  says  of  the  first  historians  of 
Attica,  “that  they  differed  widely  from  each  other  (otoaa* 
iLsteuH'ouvTef,)”  may  be  applied  to  all  profane  histories  of 
these  early  limes.  * 


12 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


sential  to  the  imegrif  y of  the  present  work,  to 
explain  from  what  x ssemblage  of  nations  the 
Greeks  were  fc  modi  •v4  by  what  fortunate 
steps  they  armed,  ft  otn  feeble  beginnings,  to 
that  condition  o:  raar  er<  and  society  in  which 
they  are  describt  d Homer;  whose  immor- 
tal poems,  like  ■ n the  gloom  of 

o.  •scu  antiquities  of  his 


night,  brighten 
country. 

The  traditi  ons  c"  ♦he  ( *eks  agree  with  the 
authentic  records  f e.  m.  ^ory,  u repre- 
senting the  countries  u'herwards  n bv  the 

names  of  Thrace,  Macedfu,  :a  C . >ce 
peopled  at  an  earlier  period  than  anv  t(4: 
portion  of  the  western  world.  Th 
corner  of  Europe,  comprehended  bet 
thirty-sixth  and  forty-first  degrees  of  latiU. 


bordering  on  Epirus  and  Macedonia  to  ware.  ! tl  mem  s, 
the  north,  and  on  other  sides  surrounded  by  c 
the  sea,  was  inhabited,  above  eighteen  centuries 
before  the  Christian  aera,  by  many  small  tribes 
of  hunters  and  shepherds,  among  whom  the 
Pelasgi  and  Hellenes  were  the  most  numerous 
and  powerful.1  The  barbarous  Pelasgi  vene- 
rated Inachus,  as  their  founder;  and  for  a simi- 
lar reason,  the  more  humane  Hellenes  respected 
Deucalion.  From  his  son  Hellen,  they  derived 
their  general  appellation,  which  originally  de- 
noted a small  tribe  in  Thessaly  ;1 2  and  from 
Dorus,  Eolus,  and  Ion,3 4 5  his  more  remote  de- 
scendants, they  were  discriminated  by  the 
names  of  Dorians,  Eolians,  and  Ionians.4  The 
Dorians  took  possession  of  that  mountainous 
district  of  Greece,  afterwards  called  Doris;  the 
Ionians,  whose  name  was  in  some  measure  lost 
in  the  illustrious  appellation  of  Athenians, 
settled  in  the  less  barren  parts  of  Attica;  and 
the  Eolians  peopled  Elis  and  Arcadia,  the 
western  and  inland  regions  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesus.5 Notwithstanding  many  partial  migra- 
tions, these  three  original6  divisions  of  the  Hel- 
lenes generally  entertained  an  affection  for  the 
establishments  which  had  been  preferred  by  the 
wisdom  or  caprice  of  their  respective  ancestors ; 
a circumstance  which  remarkably  distinguished 
the  Hellenic  from  the  Pelasgic  race.  While  the 
former  discovered  a degree  of  attachment  to 
their  native  land,  seldom  found  in  barbarians, 
who  live  by  hunting  or  pasturage,  the  latter 
disdaining  fixed  habitations,  wandered  in  large 
bodies  over  Greece,  or  transported  themselves 
into  the  neighbouring  islands ; and  the  most 
considerable  portion  of  them  gradually  re- 
moving to  the  coasts  of  Italy  and  Thrace,  the 
remainder  melted  away  into  the  Doric  and 
Ionic  tribes.  At  the  distance  of  twelve  centu- 
ries, obscure  traces*  of  the  Pelasgi  occurred  in 
several  Grecian  cities ; a district  of  Thessaly 
always  retained  their  name ; their  colonies  con- 
tinued, in  the  fifth  century  before  Christ,  to  in- 
habit the-southern  coast  of  Italy,  and  the  shores 
of  the  Hellespont : and  in  those  widely  sepa- 
rated countries,  their  ancient  affinity  was  re- 
cognised in  the  uniformity  of  their  rude  dialect 
and  barbarous  manners,  extremely  dissimilar  to 


the  customs  and  language  of  their  Grecian 
neighbours.7  - 

Greece,  when  delivered  from  the  turbulence 
of  a rugged  race  of  men,  who  never  attained  . 
much  consideration,  either  in  the  territories 
where  they  originally  dwelt,  or  in  those  to 
which  they  afterwards  removed,  was  not  left  to  \ 
be  slowly  civilized  by  the  progressive  ingenuity 
of  the  Hellenic  tribes.  The  happy  position  of 
a country,  which,  forming  as  it  were  the  fron 
tier  of  Europe  with  Asia,  is  divided  only  by  a. 
narrow  extent  of  sea  from  Egypt  and  Syria, * 
.1  situate  within  reach  of  those  parts  of  the 
which  were  anciently  most  flourishing  and 
tlous,  naturally  invited  the  visits  of  travel- 
'll, and  attracted  the  establishment  of  colo- 
i nic  rnese  transient  visits,  or  temporary  set- 


1 Marm.  Oxon.  epoch.  6.  Apollodor.  Biblioth.  1.  ii. 

2 Thucydid.  1.  i.  c.  28. 

3 Strabo,  1.  viii.  p.  383. 

4 Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  56.  and  1.  vii.  c.  94. 

5 Diodor.  Siculus,  1.  v. 

0 Heraclid.  Pont,  apud  Athensum,  1.  xiv. 


:ere  marked  by  many  signal  benefit^ 
memory  of  which  was  long  preserved  by 
T . -ffe  or  Greece,  and  their  merit  ^rS 

bably  exaggerated  by  her  fondness  for  pane?! 
gyric.  Even  those  /Grecian  communities, which 
justly  c\.  ueci  the  > mour  of  superior  anti^ 
quity,  acknowledged  uhemselves  indebted  tob 
strangers  for  the  mo.-i  important  discoveries, 
not  only  in  religion,  but  in  ugrieulture  and  the 
arts;  and  contented  themselvfc s wTith  the  gld^B 
of  having  diffused  a.  borrowed  light  over  the 
melancholy  gloom  of  ignorance  - r.'ch  over- 
spread their  neighbours.*  But  n-  vanity 

at  length  produced  a materia:  : Lnge  i the 

tradition.  When  the  refined  de  t«ndants  ff 
the  rude  Greeks  viewed  with  complacence  i.h$8j 
own  superiority  in  arts  and  arms  to  a ll  the 
tions  around  them,  they  began  to  suspect  :haB 
the  gods  alone  were  worthy  to  have  re.  red  'h® 
infancy  of  a people,  who  eminently  exc-eiieS 
the  rest  of  mankind.  To  the  gods  they  traj 
ferred  the  merit  of  the  many  useful  inventioiJH 
communicated  by  the  generous  humanity  o® 
their  ancient  visitants  ; an  ostentatious  fiction'  ■ 
coloured  by  a faint  semblance  of  truth,  sinceK 
the*worship  of  several  divinities  was  introduced 
at  the  same  time,  and  by  the  same  persons,9 
who  made  known  the  arts  most  subservient  to 
the  purposes  of  human  fife.19 

While  fable  thus  disguised  the  benefits  confer-* 
red  by  the  first  transitory  voyages  into  Greece, 
history  preserved  the  memory  of  four  succes- 
sive establishments  erected  there  by  foreigners. 
From  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth,  to  the  mid- 
dle of  the  fourteenth  century  before  Christ,  an 
inundation  of  Egyptians,  Phoenicians,  and 
Phrygians,  overflowed  the  Hellenic  coasts.  The 
causes  assigned  for  these  emigrations  are  ex- 
tremely consonant  to  the  manners  of  remote 
antiquity,  as  described  by  sacred  and  profane 
authors  : hatred  of  a rival,  impatience  of  a 
superior,  in  one  instance  the  persecution  of  a 
brother  and  an  enemy,  and,  in  general,  tha! 
uneasy  restlessness  of  disposition,  which  uni-1 - 
versally  prevails  among  men,  who  have  become! 
sensible  of  their  own  powers,  without  havingp 
sufficiently  learned  to  direct  them  to  the  happy  E 
pursuits  of  arts  and  industry.11  The  principal* 


7 Herodot.  1.  i.  Dionys.  Halicarn.  1.  i.  Pausan.L  viii. 

8 Isocrat.  Panegyr.  passim. 

9 The  Tytans,  Idsei  Dactyli,  Triptolemus,  &c.  Compare 
Diodor.  Sicul.  1.  v.  and  Isocrat.  Panegyr. 

10  Diodor.  Sicul.  1.  v.  Isocrat.  Panegyr. 

11  Isocrat.  Hellen.  sub.  initio.  Pind.  Olymp.  1. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


13 


C. 

56. 

85. 

93. 

50. 


I-J 

lonies  were  conducted,  by  Cecrops,12  and 
Danaus,  Egyptians,  who  respectively 
settled  in  Athens  and  Argos;  Cadmus,13 
a Phoenician,  who  founded  Thebes  in 
Boeotia,  and  Pelops,  a Phrygian,14  whose 
descendants,  intermarrying  with  those 
of  Danaus,  king  of  Argos,  and  Tynda- 
us,  king  of  Lacedaemon  or  Sparta,  acquired, 
the  person  of  Agamemnon,  so  powerful  an 
Cendant  in  the  Peloponnesus. 15  The  family 
f Deucalion  still  reigned  in  Thessaly ; but 
hebes,  Athens,  Argos,  and  Sparta,  which  in 
11  ages  were  regarded  as  the  principal  cities  of 
Greece,  thus  fell  under  the  dominion  of  four 
reign  lines  of  princes,  whose  exploits,  and 
lory,  and  misfortunes,  are  immortalised  by  the 
st  and  noblest  productions  of  Grecian  genius.16 
The  countries,  which  these  adventurers  aban- 
;ned,  had  not,  according  to  modern  ideas,  at- 
ined  a very  high  degree  of  maturity  in  laws 
d government.  Yet  it  cannot  be  doubted, 
at  the  natives  of  Egypt  and  the  east  were 
squainted  with  many  improvements  unknown 
the  Hellenic  tribes.  Conjectures  are  not  to 
, placed  in  the  rank  of  facts ; yet,  in  matters 
ancient  and  obscure,  we  may  be  allowed  to 
.jecture  from  the  only  facts  on  record,  that 
« invaders  of  Greece  introduced  into  that 
'ntry  the  knowledge  of  the  Phoenician  alpha- 
; improved  the  practice  of  agriculture ; 
Itiplied  the  rites  of  religion ; discovered  to 
Greeks  several  uses  of  the  metals ; but,  on 
other  hand,  gradually  adopted,  in  their  turn, 
e Grecian  language,  and  generally  conformed 
the  Grecian  customs  and  institutions.17 
The  introduction  of  the  Phoenician  alphabet 
as  an  improvement  too  delicate  and  refined  to 
e immediately  attended  with  any  important 
'.onsequences.  The  gross  understandings  of 
he  Hellenes  could  not  easily  comprehend  the 
tility  of  such  an  ingenious  invention.  The 
no^yledge  of  it  was  acquired  and  preserved 
y a few  individuals13  of  more  enlightened 
inds : but  the  far  greater  part  of  the  nation 
png  contented  themselves  with  the  ancient 
ode  of  picture-writing,  which,  however 
imited  in  its  application,  seemed  sufficient  to 
xpress  the  simplicity  of  their  rude  ideas. 

The  Phoenicians  were  well  acquainted  with 
die  precious  metals  as  the  medium  of  ex- 


12  Strabo,  I.  ix.  and  Plut.  in  Theseo. 

13  Strabo,  Ibid,  and  Isocrat.  Hcllen. 

14  Isocral.  Panathen.  Thucydid.  1.  i.  Diodor.  1.  4. 

15  Thucyd.  1.  i.  Diodor.  1.  4.  Isocrat.  Panathen. 

16  The  workB  of  Homer  and  Pindar,  and  the  writings  of 
e Greek  tragedians.  In  these,  and  scarcely  any  where 
se,  the  stories  of  Cadmus,  Semele,  Bacchus,  Amphitryon, 
ercules,  CEdipus,  & c.  may  be  read  with  pleasure  and  ad- 
vantage ; for,  as  Strabo,  1.  ix  says,  “ All  there  is  monstrous 
nd  tragic  land.” 

17  Compare  Herodotus,  1.  v.  c.  59.  1.  vii.  passim.  Mont- 
aucon,  Paleograph.  GrsBc.  1.  ii.  Plin.  1.  v.  c.  56  and  57. 

(Hyginus,  Fab.  274.  and  Ephorus  apud  Diodor.  1.  v. 

18  Herodotus  mentions  three  inscriptions  on  thee  tripods, 
consecrated  in  the  temple  of  Ismcnian  Apollo.  The  first, 

f Amphitryon  ; the  second,  of  the  son  of  Hippocoon  ; the 
bird,  of  Laodamus  the  son  of  Eteocles.  The  inscriptions 
n the  shields  of  the  heroes  who  besieged  the  capital  of 
Eteocles,  are  noticed  by  iEschylus,  in  his  tragedy  entitled, 
The  Seven  against  Thebes.”  Yet  we  know  from  Homer, 
vi.  that  when  Prsetus  sent  Bellcronhon  to  the  king  of 
.ye  a,  he  gave  him,  not  a written  letter,  but  <ryi/*xTx  \vygx, 
ournful  signs.  Writing  could  not  be  common  till  many 
nluues  afterwards,  since  the  first  written  laws  were  given 
Greece  orriy  six  centuries  before  Christ.  Herodot.  I.  ii. 
trabo,  1.  vi. 


change.  But  the  uniform  transactions  of  the 
Greeks,  as  yet  required  not  any  such  nicety  of 
refinement.  Even  during  the  Trojan  war, 
cattle,  being  the  commodity  of  most  general 
demand,  was  universally  regarded  as  the  most 
convenient  measure  of  value.1 9 It  is  not  easy 
to  determine  whether  gold  or  iron  be  more  ad- 
vantageous to  man,  the  one  by  exciting  his  in- 
dustry, the  other  by  seconding  that  industry  in 
all  the  variety  of  useful  arts.  The  discovery 
of  iron  in  Greece  afforded  the  necessary  im- 
plements of  agriculture,  the  gradual  extension 
of  which  alike  improved  the  sterility  of  the 
soil,  and  the  rudeness  of  the  inhabitants.  Be- 
fore the  arrival  of  Egyptian  colonies,  the  culti- 
vation of  the  ground  might  occasionally  em- 
ploy the  divided  industry  of  scattered  families; 
but  this  valuable  art  was  not  considered  as  an 
object  of  general  concern.  Cecrops  first  en- 
gaged the  wandering  hunters  or  shepherds  of 
Attica  to  unite  in  villages  of  husbandmen. 
Corn,  wine,  and  oil,  rewarded  their  useful  la- 
bours ;2°  and  these  productions  being  acquired 
by  common  toil,  were  regarded,  with  the 
ground  itself,  as  a common  property.21 

The  idea  of  an  exclusive  and  permanent 
right  to  all  the  uses  of  a piece  of  land,  whether 
belonging  to  communities  or  to  individuals,  is 
one  of  the  most  important  steps  in  the  progress 
of  society.  In  Greece,  this  valuable  right  was 
immediately  followed  by  such  institutions  as 
tended  to  secure  its  enjoyment,  and  to  check 
the  injustice  of  man,  who  is  seldom  willing  to 
acquire,  by  slow  labour,  what  he  can  ravish  by 
sudden  violence.  The  salutary  influence  of 
religion  was  employed  on  this  necessary  occa- 
sion. We  are  told  by  several  writers,  that  the 
practice  of  agriculture,  and  the  rites  of  religion, 
were  introduced  at  the  same  time.22  But  the 
same  authors  inform  us,  that  their  pretended 
founders  of  religious  worship  abolished  the  use 
of  living  sacrifices  ;23  a custom,  which  evi- 


19  In  a well  known  passage,  Homer,  after  mentioning 
other  articles,  with  which  the  Greeks  purchased  wine,  adds, 
xvTOHrt  /2o£<r<ri,  “witlioxen  themselves.”  Some  scholiasts 
and  commentators  have  imagined,  that  the  of  Homer 
was  a coin  stamped  with  the  figure  of  an  ox,  said  to  have 
been  introduced  by  Theseus.  Vid.  Pint,  in  Theseo.  But 
were  it  allowed,  which  is  very  improbable,  that  Theseus 
had  a mint,  it  would  still  be  improbable  that  Homer  meant 
such  a coin  ; for  in  the  episode  of  Glaucus  and  Diomed,he 
says,  that  the  former  gave  his  golden  armour,  worth  a hun- 
dred oxen,  for  the  brazen  armour  of  the  latter,  worth  only 
nine.  Now  wre  know  from  Pollux  Onomast,  1.  ix.  c.  7.  that 
the  coin  /8ov?,  at  whatsoever  time  it  was  introduced,  con- 
tinued to  be  valued  at  two  drachmas.  Diomed’s  arms 
therefore,  upon  the  supposition  of  the  scholiasts,  must  have 
been  worth  about  nine  shillings ; and  Glaucus’s,  which 
were  of  massy  gold,  worth  only  nine  pounds.  Talents  of 
gold  are  often  mentioned  by  Homer.  They  w'ere  proposed 
as  prizes  to  combatants,  and  offered  as  dedications  in  tem- 
ples, but  too  valuable  to  serve  as  current  specie.  Homer 
and  Herodot.  passim.  NojU'oy**,  money,  is  derived  from 
vo/ios,  law,  because,  as  Aristotle  says,  ou  $>v<r£»,  x KKx 
vofun  e tt t , “the  origin  of  money  is  not  natural,  but  con- 
ventional and  arbitrary.”  But  in  Homer’s  time,  the  word 
vo/xof  w'as  used  in  a quite  different  sense:  vofuo-ftct  must 
therefore  have  been  derived  from  it  at  a later  period.  Com. 
Iliad.  I.  xx.  v.  249.  and  Aristot.  Ethic  Nicom.  1.  v.  c.  5. 

20  Pausan.  1.  iii.  ./Eschyl.  Eumcn. 

21  Tho  re/Ksi/os,  or  cut  of  ground  so  often  mentioned  in 
Homer,  as  bestowed  by  general  consent  on  admired  kings 
and  chiefs,  might  have  suggested  this  observation,  which 
seems  to  havo  escaped  notice,  though  attended,  as  we  shall 
find,  with  very  important  consequences. 

22  Diodor.  Pausan.  Apollod. 

23  ©»ov;  xyx\Knv  fty  <rivir9*i.  Porph.de 

Abstinent. 


14 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


dently  supposes  the  prior  establishment  of  an 
ancient  and  more  bloody  superstition.  Yet  in 
this  humane  prohibition,  we  may  perhaps  dis- 
cern a laudable  attempt  to  correct  the  barbarity 
of  the  Greeks,  and  to  raise  the  new  profession 
of  agriculture  above  the  ancient  employment 
of  hunting. 

Before  and  during  the  time  that  the  Hellenic 
tribes  received  continual  accessions  of  popula- 
tion from  distant  countries,  they  were  no  less 
diligent  in  sending  forth  their  own  colonies. 
As  they  originally  subsisted  by  hunting,  fish- 
ing, and  pasturage,  a large  extent  of  territory 
was  requisite  to  supply  them  with  the  necessa- 
ries of  life.  They  were  not  afflicted  by  the 
oppressive  terrors  of  despotism ; they  were 
long  unacquainted  with  the  gentle,  but  power- 
ful, operation  of  regular  government ; and 
without  being  subject  to  the  one  or  the  other, 
it  is  scarcely  possible  for  men  to  live  together 
in  large  societies.  When  any  of  their  commu- 
nities seemed  inconveniently  numerous,  they 
divided  it  into  several  portions,  of  which  the 
principal  kept  possession  of  their  original  seats, 
while  the  others  occupied  and  peopled  the  sur- 
rounding territories.  It  was  thus  the  Eolians 
dispersed  through  many  parts  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesus ; the  unfortunate  Sisyphus,1  who  found- 
ed the  city  of  Corinth,  being  a descendant  of 
Eolus,  and  the  ancestors  of  the  wise  Nestor, 
who  reigned  in  sandy  Pylos,  being  sprung  from 
the  same  Eolic  race.2  A considerable  division 
of  the  Ionians  settled  along  the  southern  shores 
of  the  Corinthian  gulf,  in  the  province  which, 
eighty  years  after  the  Trojan  war,  changed  the 
name  of  Ionia  for  that  of  Achaia.3  The  ter- 
ritory beyond  the  Corinthian  isthmus  was  par- 
celled out  among  innumerable  subdivisions  of 
the  Hellenic  tribes.4  When  the  continent  of 
Greece  seemed  sufficiently  populous,  the  Athe- 
nians gave  inhabitants  to  the  isle  of  Euboea ; 
and  many  centuries  before  the  famous  establish- 
ments formed  by  the  Greeks  on  the  coasts  of 
Asia  Minor,  of  Italy,  and  of  Thrace,  the  Do- 
rians had  sent  a colony  to  Crete,5  and  the 
Eolians,  under  the  conduct  of  Dardanus,  had 
planted  the  eastern  banks  of  the  Hellespont.6 
During  the  Trojan  war,  the  inhabitants  of  those 
various  and  widely  separated  countries  spoke  the 
same  language  that  was  used  among  the  Hel- 
lenes, and  acknowledged  the  general  influence 
of  the  same  principles  and  manners.  Unless  it 
is  supposed,  therefore,  that  not  only  the  Phry- 
gians, but  the  Phoenicians  and  Egyptians  ori- 
ginally spoke  the  same  Hellenic  tongue,  it 
seems  reasonable  to  conjecture  that  the  colonies 
conducted  by  Cecrops,  Cadmus,  and  Danaus, 
gradually  adopted  the  language  of  the  abori- 
gines of  Greece.7 * 


1 K*»  Zio-u$cv  iKrtiSov  x f xt s gx  x\ysx  ovtu.  Homer 

Odyss. 

2 Pausan.  in  Corinth,  et  Messen.  3 Strabo,  1.  vii. 

4 Id.  ib.  Pausan.  et  Diodor. 

5 Diodor.  ibid.  Strabo,  1.  vii.  p.  496. 

6 Servius  in  .dEneid.  III. 

7 Herodotus,  1.  v.  c.  58.  says,  that  the  colony  of  Cadmus 
changed  their  speech,  being  surrounded  by  the  Ionians,  a 

Hellenic  tribe.  He  says  further,  that  together  with  their 
language,  they  changed  the  power  of  some  of  their  letters. 

He  acknowledges  that  the  Cadmeians,  or  Phoenicians,  com- 
mnnicated  to  the  Ionians  the  rise  of  letters ; but  the  Ionians, 
bo  says,  adapted  the  Phoenician  alphabet  to  the  9ounds  of 


[Chap. 

A single  reflection  appears  sufficient  toj 
prove,  that  they  likewise  conformed  to  the] 
Grecian  institutions  of  government.  The  in- 
flexible rigour  of  despotism,  which  has  in  al 
ages  prevailed  in  Egypt6  and  the  east,  was  un 
known  to  the  conquerors  of  Troy.  Since  the 
absolute  power  of  kings  was  not  acknowledged 
during  a long  period  of  war  and  danger,  rd-| 
quiring  the  strictest  military  subordination;' 
and  since  the  Greeks  preserved  their  freedom, 
after  the  increasing  wealth  of  many  centuries 
had  a tendency  to  prepare  them  for  servitude ; 
it  cannot  reasonably  be  imagined,  that  an  ori-i 
ental  system  of  oppression  should  have  pre-J 
vailed  in  the  more  early  ages  of  poverty  and! 
independence.9 

The  Phoenicians  being  considered  as  the  prin^ 
cipal  navigators  and  merchants  of  the  ancieni 
world,  it  is  commonly  believed  that  the  examfl 
pie  of  the  Phoenician  colonies  first  taught  th^ 
Greeks  to  brave  the  dangers  of  the  sea,  an 
to  maintain  a commercial  intercourse  wit 
each  other,  as  well  as  with  foreign  nation 
But  it  is  sufficient  to  throw  a glance  on  tbf 
geography  of  Greece,  to  perceive  how  natural! 
commerce,  without  foreign  aid,  might  har 
arisen  spontaneously  in  that  highly  favour 
country.  The  continent  itself,  washed  on  thr 
sides  by  the  sea,  is  surrounded  by  innumerab 
islands,  abounding  in  excellent  harbours.  T 
variety  of  soils  and  productions  is  greater,  pe> 
haps,  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  world,  of 
equal  extent.  All  the  shores  of  the  Medite 
ranean,  comprehending  the  most  beautiful,  and 
anciently,  the  most  flourishing  part  of  the  earth' 
are  more  accessible  to  Greece  than  to  any, 
neighbouring  country.  Yet  it  appears  from  the 
light  of  history,  that  the  Greeks  did  not  early 
avail  themselves  of  their  fortunate  situation,  or 
of  the  supposed  lessons  of  tljeir  Phoenician  in- 
structors. 

Many  circumstances  conspired  to  prolong  the 
infancy  of  their  nation,  and  to  retard,  during 
several  centuries,  their  improvement  in  com- 
merce, as  well  as  in  agriculture,  and  the  other 
useful  arts.  The  surface  of  Greece  is  more  in 
dented  by  creeks  and  rivers,  and  more  rough- 
ened by  mountains  and  promontories,  than  that 
of  any  other  part  of  Europe.  These  natural 
divisions  kept  the  different  communities'  in  a 


their  own  language.  The  eastern  tongues  are  in  general 
extremely  deficient  in  vowels.  It  is,  or  rather  was,  much 
disputed  whether  the  ancient  Orientals  used  any  characters 
to  express  them.  Their  languages,  therefore,  had  an  in- 
flexible thickness  of  sound,  extremely  different  from  th 
vocal  harmony  of  the  Greek,  which  abounds  not  only  ir 
vowels  but  in  diphthongs.  The  circumstauce  denotes,  i 
the  Greeks,  nrsans  of  perception'  more  acute,  elegant,  an 
discerning.  They  felt  such  faint  variations  of  liquid  sounds, 
as  escaped  the  diilness  of  Asiatic  ears,  and  invented  marka 
to  express  them.  They  distinguished,  in  this  manner,  not 
only  their  articulation,  but  their  quantity,  and  afterwards 
thfeir  musical  intonation,  as  shall  be  explained  hereafter,  in 
treating  of  the  Grecian  music  and  poetry. 

8 The  government  of  the  Egyptians,  as  well  as  the 
Asiatics,  is  uniformly  represented  in  scripture  as  an  abso- 
lute monarchy.  Herodotus  and  Diodorus  mention  som 
laws  of  the  Egyptians,  which  seem  to  circumscribe  th 
power  of  their  kings.  But  these  laws,  if  well  examined 
will  confirm  the  observation  in  the  text.  They  we* 
established,  not  in  favour  of  the  nation  at  large,  but  of  th 
priests  and  soldiers.  The  throne  of  Egypt  was  supporte 
by  the  altar,  and  defended  by  the  sword  ; and  what  despc 
tism  can  be  upheld  but  bv  the  same  rra®ns? 

9 See  the  principles  established  by  Tacitus  de  Mor.German 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


15 


I-l 

state  of  separation  and  hostility.  The  ideas  of 
their  ancient  consanguinity  and  common  origin 
were  weakened  or  effaced  by  the  recent  confiu- 
'nce  of  foreigners.  They  could  not  travel  be- 
yond their  own  narrow  districts  without  being 
exposed  to  the  insults  of  enemies.  These  in- 
sults excited  resentment;  mutual  injuries  were 
offered  and  retorted  ; each  city  was  at  war  with 
all  its  neighbours:  thus  did  the  smallness  of  the 
Grecian  states,  a circumstance  which,  during 
the  happy  ages  that  form  the  subject  of  the 
present  history,  tended  to  break  the  force  of 
custom  and  opinion,  and  to  encourage  that 
noble  emulation  so  favourable  to  the  progress 
of  virtue  and  science,  produce,  in  less  fortunate 
times,  an  effect  of  the  most  opposite  nature, 
hoke  the  seeds  of  order,  and  repress  the  feeble 
hoots  of  arts  and  humanity. 

The  metals,  originally  destined  to  promote 
e peaceful  labours  of  man,  were  converted 
nto  powerful  instruments  of  destruction  ; and 
vhile  the  land  was  ravaged  by  the  sword,  the 
,ea  was  covered  with  pirates.  The  Phoenicians, 
e Garians,  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  Greek 
lands  in  general,  considered  navigation,  not  as 
e means  of  uniting  nations  by  mutual  inter- 
course and  commerce,  but  as  a happy  expedient 

r enabling  the  poor  and  the  brave  to  plunder 
e rich  territories  of  their  less  warlike  neigh- 
ours.  The  coasts  of  Greece,  though  in  early 
mes  their  bleak  forbidding  aspect  might  have 
Spelled  the  avarice  of  freebooters,  yet  on  ac- 
count of  the  proximity  of  their  situation,  and 
the  valuable  cargoes  of  hardy  slaves  in  which 
they  abounded,  were  continually  infested  by 
naval  depredations.  The  unfortified  places  near 
the  shore  surrendered  without  resistance;  the 
fruits  of  their  painful  industry  were  plundered 
or  destroyed,  and  the  most  valuable  portion  of 
their  inhabitants  dragged  into  captivity.  The 
practice  of  piracy  and  invasion  was  not  a tem- 
porary resource  of  war,  prompted  by  necessity, 
or  a just  revenge;  it  grew  into  an  ordinary  pro- 
fession, which  was  so  far  from  being  deemed 
dishonourable,  that  it  conferred  much  glory  and 
renown  on  those  who  exercised  it  with  skill  and 
bjravery.'o 

During  this  disordered  state  of  society,  the 
arts  of  peace  were  almost  entirely  neglected, 
and  Greece  was  ready  to  be  plunged  into  the 
grossest  barbarism,  by  its  domestic  dissentions. 
The  irruptions  of  the  Thracians,  Amazons,  and 
other  northern  savages,  threatened  to  acceler- 
ate this  melancholy  event,  and  to  complete  the 
I ruin  of  the  unhappy  Hellenes.11  But  rt  may  be 
observed  in  the  affairs  of  human  life,  that  any 
extraordinary  measure  of  good  or  evil  com- 
monly leads  men  to  dread,  or  to  expect,  a sud- 
den revolution  of  fortune;  a natural  sentiment 
which,  though  liable  to  be  abused  by  credulity 
and  superstition,  is  founded  on  the  firm  basis 
of  experience.  The  rudiments  of  the  most 
useful  designs  are  suggested  always  by  neces- 
sity, often  by  calamity.  The  inroads  of  the 


10  Thucydid.  1.  i.  ei;  xor/uog  TOUT 0 The 

explanation  in  the  text  seems  more  consonant  to  Grecian 
manners,  in  those  ages,  than  that  of  the  scholiast,  which  is 
translated  by  Mr.  ltochford,  “Chez  qui  la  piraterie  6toit 
exerc^e  avec  une  certaine  probitc.”  M.  de  PAcad.  v.  39. 

11  Lysias  Orat.  Funeb. 


wild  mountaineers  of  Thrace,  and  of  other  bar- 
barians more  remote,  whose  destructive  cruelty 
may  be  understood  by  the  unexampled  ravages 
with  which  even  the  feebler  sex12  carried  on  the 
ravages  of  war,  occasioned  the  first  institution 
which  restored  some  degree  of  present  tranquil- 
lity to  Greece,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  its 
future  grandeur. 

The  northern  districts  of  Thessaly  being  pe- 
culiarly exposed  to  the  dangerous  fury  of  in- 
vaders, the  petty  princes  of  that  province  enter- 
ed into  a confederacy  for  their  mutual  defence.13 
They  assembled  in  spring  and  autumn  at  Ther- 
mopylae, a place  afterwards  so  illustrious,  and 
then  governed  by  Amphictyon,  a descendant  of 
Deucalion,  whose  name  is  immortalized  in  the 
Amphictyonic  council.  The  advantages  which 
the  confederates  derived  from  this  measure, 
were  soon  perceived  by  their  neighbours.  The 
central  states  gradually  acceded  to  their  alli- 
ance; and,  about  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth 
century  before  Christ,  Acrisius  king  of  Argos, 
and  other  princes  of  the  Peloponnesus,  were 
allowed  to  share  the  benefits  and  security  of 
their  useful  association. 

^ £ After  this  event,  the  Amphictyons  ap- 
1263*  Pear  to  have  long  confined  themselves  to 
the  original  purpose  of  their  institution. 
The  states,  whose  measures  were  directed  by 
this  assembly,  found  sufficient  occupation  in 
defending  their  own  territories ; and  near  a cen- 
tury elapsed,  before  they  undertook,  by  common 
consent,  any  distant  expedition.  But  it  was  not 
to  be  expected  that  their  restless  activity  could 
be  always  exhausted  in  defensive  war.  The 
establishment  of  the  Amphictyons  brought  to- 
gether the  chiefs  most  distinguished  by  birth 
and  bravery.  Glory  and  emulation  prompted 
them  to  arms,  and  revenge  directed  those  arms 
against  the  barbarians.  Jason,  Admetus,  and 
other  chieftains  of  Thessaly,14  having  equipped 
a small  fleet  in  the  neighbouring  harbour  of 
Iolcus,  and  particularly  the  ship  Argos,  of  su- 
perior size  and  construction  to  any  before 
known,  were  animated  with  a desire  to  visit 
foreign  lands,  to  plant  colonies  in  those  parts 
of  them  that  appeared  most  delightful,  and  to 
retort  on  their  inhabitants  the  injuries  which 
Greece  had  suffered  from  strangers.1 5 The  prin- 
ces of  the  north  having  proclaimed  this  spirited 
design  over  the  central  and  southern  provinces, 
the  standard  of  enterprise  and  glory  was  speed- 
ily surrounded  by  the  flower  of  the  Grecian 
youth,16  who  eagerly  embraced  this  honourable 
opportunity  to  signalize  their  manly  valour. 
Peleus,  Tydeus,  Telamon,  and,  in  general,  the 
fathers  of  those  heroic  chiefs,  who  in  the  suc- 
ceeding age,  shone  with  distinguished  lustre  in 
the  plains  of  Troy,  are  numbered  among  the 
leaders  of  the  Argonauts.  They  wore  accom- 
panied by  the  chosen  warriors,  and  by  the  vene- 


12  The  Amazons.  Sec  Lysias  Orat.  Funeb.  and  Hero- 
dotus passim.  Yet  the  existence  of  these  warlike  females 
was  doubted  as  early  as  the  days  of  tlio  emperor  Hadrian, 
as  we  learn  from  Arrian  : but  what  is  said  by  that  judicious 
and  manly  historian,  seems  sufficient  to  dispel  the  doubt. 
See  Arrian  Expedit.  Alcxand.  1.  vii.  p.  15G. 

13  Marm.  Oxon.  E.  5. 

14  Their  names  are  mentioned  by  Apollodorus,  Diod. 
Siculus,  Pindar,  Apollonius,  &c. 

15  Hcrodot.  I.  i.  Diodor.  Sicul.  1 iv 

16  Pindar,  Pythic.  iv. 


■ 


16 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


/ 


rable  prophets,  of  their  respective  tribes ; by  an 
Esculapius,  the  admired  father  of  the  healing 
art,  and  by  the  divine  Orpheus,1  whose  sublime 
genius  was  worthy  to  celebrate  the  amazing 
series  of  their  adventures. 

These  adventures,  however,  have  been  too 
much  adorned  by  the  graces  of  poetry,  to  be  the 
proper  subjects  of  historical  composition.  The 
designs  of  the  Argonauts  are  veiled  under  the 
allegorical,  or  at  least  doubtful,  phrase,  “of 
carrying  off  the  golden  fleece;”  which,  though 
easily  explained,  if  we  admit  the  report  that  the 
inhabitants  of  the  eastern  banks  of  the  Euxine 
extended  fleeces  of  wool,  in  order  to  collect  the 
golden  particles  which  were  carried  down  by 
the  torrents  from  Mount  Caucasus,2  is  yet  de- 
scribed in  such  various  language  by  ancient 
writers,  that  almost  every  modern  who  exam- 
ines the  subject,  thinks  himself  entitled  to  offer, 
by  way  of  explanation,  some  new  conjecture  of 
his  own.  But  in  opposition  to  the  most  ap- 
proved of  these  conjectures,  we  may  venture  to 
aflirm,  that  the  voyage  to  Colchis  was  not  un- 
dertaken with  a view  to  establish  extensive 
plans  of  commerce,3  or  to  search  for  mines  of 
gold,  far  less  to  learn  the  imaginary  art  of  con- 
verting other  substances  into  that  precious 
metal;4  all  such  motives  supposing  a degree  of 
speculation  and  refinement  unknown  in  that 
age  to  the  gallant  but  uninstructed  youth  of 
Thessaly.  The  real  object  of  the  expedition 
may  be  discovered  by  its  consequences.  The 
Argonauts  fought,  conquered,  and  plundered  ;5 
they  settled  a colony  on  the  shores  of  the 
Euxine;6  and  carried  into  Greece  a daughter 
of  the  king  of  Colchis,  the  celebrated  Medea,7 
a princess  of  Egyptian  extraction,  whose  crimes 
and  enchantments  are  condemned  to  eternal 
infamy  in  the  immortal  lines  of  Euripides. 

Notwithstanding  many  romantic  fictions  that 
disfigure  the  story  of  the  Argonauts,  their  un- 
dertaking appears  to  have  been  attended  with  a 
considerable  and  a happy  effect  on  the  manners 
and  character  of  the  Greeks.  From  the  era  of 
this  celebrated  expedition,  we  may  discover  not 
only  a more  daring  and  more  enlarged  spirit  of 
enterprise,  but  a more  decisive  and  rapid  pro- 
gress towards  civilization  and  humanity.  The 
sullen  and  unsociable  chiefs,  whose  acquaint- 
ance with  each  other  most  commonly  arose 
from  acts  of  mutual  hostility,  hitherto  gave  full 
scope  to  the  sanguinary  passions  which  charac- 
terize barbarians.8  Strength  and  courage  were 
almost  the  only  qualities  which  they  admired : 
they  fought  and  plundered  at  the  head  of  their 
respective  tribes,  while  the  inhabitants  of  the 
neighbouring  districts  were  regarded  as  fit  ob- 
jects only  to  excite  their  rage,  and  gratify  their 


1 The  testimony  of  Plato  de  Repub.  1.  x.  of  Isocrates  in 
Busirid.  sufficiently  attest  the  poetical  fame  of  Orpheus. 
The  Argonautica,  and  other  works  ascribed  to  him,  are 
collected  by  Eschenbachius,  and  published  at  Nuremberg, 
1702.  That  these,  however,  are  the  productions  of  a much 
later  age,  appears  from  innumerable  circumstances,  some 
of  which  are  mentioned  by  Fabricius,  Bib.  Grrnc.  vol.  i.  p. 

120. 

2 Strabo,  1.  xi.  p.  499.  3 Eustach.  in  Homer. 

4 Suidas,  Memoires  de  l’Academ.  v.  9.  Exped.  Argon. 

5 Diodor.  ibid.  6 Xenoph.  Anabas. 

7 Euripid.  Med. 

This  was  the  brazen  age  described  by  Hesiod.  Oper.  et 

Di.  i.  i.  p 142 — 155.  and  by  Plutarch  in  the  life  of  Theseus. 


[Chap. 

rapacity.  But  these  gloomy  warriors,  having 
exerted  their  joint  valour  in  a remote  expedi- 
tion, learned  the  necessity  of  acquiring  more 
amiable  virtues,  as  well  as  of  adopting  mor 
liberal  notions  of  the  public  interest,  if  they 
pretended  to  deserve  the  esteem  of  their  equals. 
Military  courage  and  address  might  alone  pro- 
cure them  the  respect  of  their  immediate  fol- 
lowers, since  the  safety  of  the  little  community 
often  depended  on  the  warlike  abilities  of  the' 
chieffain ; but  when  several  tribes  had  combined 
in  a common  enterprize,  there  was  less  depen- 
dence on  the  prowess  of  any  single  leader. 
Emulation  and  interest  naturally  rendered  all 
these  leaders  as  jealous  of  each  other,  as  de- 
sirous of  the  public  applause;  and,  in  order  to 
acquire  this  applause,  it  was  necessary  t 
brighten  the  lustre  of  martial  spirit  by  the  mor 
valuable9  virtues  of  justice  and  humanity. 

When  this  glorious  field  first  opened  to  th 
ambition  of  the  Greeks,  they  cultivated  it  with 
a degree  of  industry  equally  ardent  and  suc- 
cessful. Innumerable  were  the  exploits  of  Her 
cules,  of  Theseus,  and  of  the  divine  sons  o 
Leda,19  and  undertaken  with  infinite  toil  an 
danger,  to  promote  the  interest  and  safety,  no; 
of  their  particular  tribes,  but  of  the  gener~ 
confederacy.  The  Grecian  woods  and  mounj 
tains  abounded  in  lions,  boars,  and  other  fiere! 
animals,11  that  often  roamed  from  their  haunt 
and  spread  terror  and  desolation  through  th 
adjoining  valleys.  The  valleys  themselv^ 
teemed  with  men  of  brutal  strength  and  cour- 
age, who  availed  themselves  of  the  weakness 
of  government  to  perpetrate  horrid  deeds  of 
violence  and  cruelty.  The  first  worthies  of 
Greece,  animated  rather  with  the  daring  . and 
useful,  than  with  the  romantic  spirit  of  chival- 
ry, set  themselves  with  one  accord  to  remedy 
evils  which  threatened  the  existence  of  society. 
Their  adventures  have,  doubtless,  been  em- 
bellished by  the  elegant  fancy  of  poets  and  ora- 
tors; but  they  will  remain  eternal  monuments 
of  generous  magnanimity,  which  sacrifices  the 
instinctive  love  of  ease  and  pleasure  to  the  ac- 
quired taste  for  glory  and  renown.12 


9 Hesiod  marks  this  change  of  manners.  It  happened 
between  the  expedition  of  the  Argonauts  and  the  siege  of 
Thebes,  since  the  latter  was  the  first  exploit  in  which  his 
new  race  of  men,  yiv o;  SixxioTtgnv  xxi  xgnov  were  en- 
gaged. See  Hesiod  Oper.  et  Di.  1.  i.  v.  155 — 165. 

10  “In  order  to  obtain  the  immortal  fruits  of  merit,”  savs 
Aristotle,  in  his  beautiful  Ode  to  Virtue, 

o Si og  HfxxM?, 

AtjSxg  re  xougo»,  sroXAe*  xvstKxtxv} 

Egyoig  <rxv  xygsv ovreg  Suvxgtiv' 

2o»j  Ss  jroSotg  A%»AXsuj, 

Aixg  t’  AiSxo  So/uov  y,\5ov. 

This  ode,  which  is  preserved  in  Diogen.  Laert.  in  Aristot. 
and  in  Athenseus,  1.  xv.  c.  16.  proves  the  mind  of  the  Sta- 
gyrite  to  have  been  as  lofty  as  capacious:  and  while  it 
comprehended  the  whole  circle  of  science,  capable  of  reach- 
ing, in  lyric  poetry,  the  highest  flights  of  Pindar  and  Horace. 
The  latter,  probably  had  Aristotle  in  view  in  ode  3.  b.  3. 
Hac  arte  Pollux,  et  vagus  Hercules 
Innixus,  arces  attigit  igneas. 

But  in  the  order  of  his  names,  he  is  not  so  faithful  to  chro- 
nology. 

11  In  the  shield  of  Hercules,  Hesiod  describes  a .boar 

fighting  with  a lion,  and  almost  prevailng  in  the  combat. 
That  animal  was  no  less  terrible  on  the  opposite  coast  of 
Asia  than  in  Greece,  as  we  learn  from  Herodotus,  1.  i.  c. 
34.  et  seq.  _ _ 

12  Pausan.  1.  i.  Isocrat.  Hellen.  Encom.  et  Panegyr. 
Lysias  et  Demosthcn.  Orat.  Funeb. 


!•] 


HISTOR\  orf  GREECE. 


17 


l.  C.  The  laws  of  w ar  and  peace  gradually 
1225.  improved  with  the  progress  of  humani- 
ty ; and  the  first  general  enterprise,  which 
ucceeded  the  expedition  of  the  Argonauts, 
proves  that  whole  communities,  as  well  as  in- 
dividuals, had  begun  to  respect  the  virtues  most 
essential  to  public  happiness.  The  war  of 
Thebes  has  deserved,  therefore,  to  be  recorded ; 
while  the  more  ancient  hostilities  between  the 


Hellenic  tribes,  of  which  justice  was  not  even 
the  pretence,  but  lust  or  avarice  the  only  cause, 
and  wealth  or  beauty  the  only  prize,  are  uni- 
versally condemned  to  oblivion.  Contempt  of 
an  ancient  oracle,  the  involuntary  crimes  of 
CEdipus,  and  the  unnatural  cruelty  of  his  s,ons, 
involved  the  royal  family  of  Thebes  in  that 
maze  of  calamities,  appropriated  in  all  ages, 
from  Sophocles13  to  Voltaire,  as  favourite  sub- 
jects of  the  Tragic  Muse.  Eteocles  and  Poly- 
Ices  (these  were  the  miserable  sons  of  (E di- 
pus) having  hastened  the  death,  and  drawn 
. down  the  maledictions,  of  their  unhappy  father, 
agreed  to  sway,  by  turns,  the  Theban  sceptre. 
Eteocles,  the  elder  brother,  reigned  during  the 
Itfirst  year;  but  his  ambitious  temper,  corrupted 
.by  the  honours  of  royalty,  refused  to  resign  the 
throne  at  the  appointed  term  of  his  command. 
His  rival,  Polynices,  married  the  daughter  of 
Adrastus,  king  of  Argos,  who  enabled  his  son- 
in-law  to  assert,  by  force  of  arms,  his  just  pre- 
'’tensions  to  the  alternate  inheritance.  The  allied 
princes,  reinforced  by  Tydeus,  Capaneus,  and 
4three  other  chiefs,  marched  to  Thebes  at  the 
head  of  seven  bands  of  armed  followers,  who 
invested  the  seven  gates  of  the  city.  The 
Thebans,  impatient  of  confinement  within  the 
walls  of  a place  ill  provided  in  supplies,  yielded 
to  the  martial  ardour  of  Eteocles,  and  repelled 
the  assailants  by  a vigorous  sally,  in  which  the 
most  illustrious  combatants  fell  c n both  sides, 
and  the  wretched  brothers  pp.isbcd  by  mutual 
wounds.  The  cause  of  the  war  bcmg  reproved 
by  this  horrid  catastrophe,  the  Argives  craved 
leave  to  bury  their  dead ; but  the  Thebans,  ex- 
asperated against  the  daring  invaders  of  their 
i country,  returned  them  an  answer,  which,  ac- 
| cording  to  the  principles  of  that  age,  bid  defi- 
r ance  to  the  dictates  of  nature,  and  the  precepts 
of  religion.  In  this  extremity,  Adrastus,  the 
only  chief  who  survived  the  battle,  had  re- 
course to  the  humane  piety  of  the  Athenians, 

1 who,  uninfluenced  by  motives  of  ambition  or 
interest,  took  arms  in  defence  of  public  justice, 
and  compelled  the  cruel  obstinacy  of  the  The- 
bans to  grant  the  last  melancholy  honours  to 
the  ashes  of  their  deceased  enemies.14  At  the 
distance  of  ten  years,  the  more  fortunate  sons 
of  the  chiefs  who  had  fallen  before  the  Theban 
walls,  resented,  with  the  fury  of  religious  rage, 
the  indignities  that  had  been  impiously  offered 
to  the  manes  of  their  fathers.  They  again  laid 
siege  to  the  guilty  city,  destroyed  the  lives  and 


property  of  many  of  the  inhabitants,  dragged 
many  into  captivity,  and  compelled  the  re- 


13  I might  have  said  ASschylus  whoso  !l  Seven  against 
Thebes”  is  founded  on  the  history  related  in  the  text.  Hut 
the  name  of  Sophocles  will  bring  to  the  mind  of  every  reader 
of  taste  and  humanity,  the  CEdipus  Tyrannus,  and  particu- 
larly the  CEdipus  Coloneus. 

14  Lysias  Orat.  Funeb. 

c 


mainder  to  acknowledge,  as  their  king,  the  in- 
fant son  of  the  injured  Polynices.15 

In  their  progress  towards  civilization,  the 
Greeks  perceived  the  advantage  of  political 
confederacy,  before  they  became  fully  sensible 
of  the  benefits  of  civil  union.  The  necessity 
of  providing  for  defence  against  the  assaults 
of  foreign  enemies,  and  the  natural  dictates 
of  interest  and  ambition,  unfolded  the  idea  of  a 
federal  association  between  different  communi- 
ties, before  the  members  of  any  one  state  had 
been  sufficiently  united  in  the  system  of  do- 
mestic policy.  Various  clusters  of  towns  and 
villages,  situate  in  winding  valleys,  divided  by 
lofty  mountains,  acknowledged  the  authority 
of  kings  or  chieftains,  wTho  led  forth  their  war- 
like youth  to  glory  and  danger.  Summoned 
to  arms  against  foreign  enemies,  they  readily 
flocked  to  the  standard  of  their  king,  and  re- 
ceived, with  implicit  submission,  his  commands 
in  the  field : but  when  no  common  cause  roused 
their  emulation,  or  excited  their  valour,  the 
inhabitants  of  each  little  township  aspired  at 
independent  jurisdiction,  and  the  nominal  sub- 
jects of  the  same  prince  often  terminated  their 
differences  by  the  decision  of  the  sword.16 

To  cement  such  disorderly  communities  by 
laws  and  government,  required  an  acquaint- 
ance with  some  more  civilized  people,  among 
whom  the  effects  of  this  happy  uniqn  visibly 
prevailed.  Such  an  example  fortunately  oc- 
curred in  the  wise  institutions  and  policy  of 
the  Cretans,  which  are  represented  not  only 
as  the  most  ancient,  but  the  best  regulations, 
that  ever  were  established  in  any  portion  of  the 
Grecian  territory.17  The  celebrated  island, 
which  fable  has  dignified  with  the  imaginary 
honour  of  giving  birth  to  some  of  the  gods^  of 
Greece,  possessed  the  real  merit  of  communi- 
cating to  that  country  many  useful  improve- 
ments. It  had  been  early  planted,  as  wro  had 
occasion  already  to  observe,  by  a colony  of 
Dorians.  This  colony,  which  received  various19 
accessions  from  Greece,  enjoyed  two  advan- 
tages above  their  brethren  on  the  continent. 
'I’heir  insular  situation  left  them  exposed,  in- 
deed, to  naval  depredations,  but  delivered  them 
from  those  fierce  incursions  by  land,  wffich 
often  disfigured  and  desolated  the  mother 
country.  A favourable  gale  wafted  the  un- 
skilful mariners  of  antiquity  from  the  shores 
of  Crete  to  the  capital  of  Egypt.  The  facility 
of  communication  thus  introduced  between  the 
two  countries  an  habitual  intercourse,  from 
which  the  barbarous  islanders  had  nothing 
to  lose,  and  every  thing  to  gain.  Rhadaman- 
thus,20  and  others  of  their  early  kings  or  chief- 
tains, whom  interest  or  curiosity  carried  into 
Egypt  and  the  East,  appear  to  have  had  saga- 
city to  observe,  and  dexterity  to  employ,  several 
of  the  inventions  and  institutions  of  those 


15  Confer.  Homer.  1.  iv.  v.  337.  et  passim.  Hesiod.  Op 
et  Di.  yEschyl.  Scptem  eontra  Thebas.  Lysias  Orat.  Funeb 
Statius  Thebaid.  Apoliod.  1.  iii.  Diodor  1.  iv.  Pausan.  in 

Banotie. 

1G  Thucydid.  1.  i.  Plut.  in  Theseo. 

17  Plat,  de  Leg.  et  in  Minoc.  Aristot.  Pol.  1.  ii.  Plut.  in 
Lycurg. 

18  Hesiod.  Theog. 

19  Homer  Iliad.  1.  xix.  v 172,  it c. 

20  Strabo,  1 x.  p.  480 


18 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


LChaj. 


powerful  and  civilized  kingdoms,  for  the  useful 
purpose  of  confirming  their  own  authority,  and 
bridling  the  fierce  passions  of  their  country-  I 
men. 

The  elder  Minos  is  peculiarly  distinguished  for  I 
promoting  this  beneficial  design.  The  doubtful 
appellation  of  Son  of  the  Ocean,  which,  per- 
haps, he  might  derive  from  his  numerous  voyr 
ages,  leaves  it  uncertain  whether  he  was  a na- 
tive Cretan,  or  a foreigner.  In  the  countries 
which  he  had  visited,  he  observed  certain  fami- 
lies invested,  from  time  immemorial,  with  un- 
bounded honours,  as  the  immediate  vicegerents 
of  the  divinity.  The  uncultivated,  but  freeborn 
genius  of  Greece,  always  rejected  this  odious 
profanation;  yet  it  seemed  possible  to  Minos 
to  acquire  that  respect  for  his  office,  which  he 
would  have  vainly  solicited  for  his  person.  1Ye 
are  not  informed  by  what  virtues,  civil  or  mili- 
tary, he  acquired,  before  the  establishment  of 
his  laws,  an  extraordinary  influence  among  the 
Cretans.  But  as  slaves  multiplied  to  such  a 
degree  in  the  island  during  his  reign,  that  agri- 
culture and  the  mechanic  arts  were  exercised 
by  them  alone,  there  is  reason  to  conjecture 
that  he  had  been  extremely  successful  in  war 
against  his  neighbours,  and  no  less  equitable 
in  dividing  the  booty  among  the  various  Cyetan 
tribes  who  followed  the  fortune  of  his  arms. 
However  this  may  be,  it  appears  from  the 
general  evidence  of  antiquity,  that  Minos  had 
address  to  persuade  men,  prone  to  wonder  and 
to  believe,  among  whom,  whatever  dazzled  the 
imagination  announced  the  presence  of  a di- 
vinity, that  their  favourite  hero  was  admitted 
to  the  familiarity  of  the  gods. 1 F rom  them  he 
preterided  to  derive  an  invaluable  system  of 
laws,  which  he  was  enjoined  to  engrave  on 
tables  of  brass.  From  Jupiter  he  received  the 
regal  sceptre,  which  entitled  him  to  administer 
these  laws,  but  obliged  him  to  respect  them. 
By  command  of  the  same  god,  he  founded  the 
cities  of  Cnossus,  Cydonia,  and  Phestus,  and 
united  the  distant  subjects  of  his  wide-extended 
domain,  by  such  regulations  as  served  alike  to 
support  the  authority  of  the  prince,  and  to 
maintain  the  rights  of  the  people.2 

The  beautiful  arrangement  of  this  political 
edifice  struck  the  discerning  eye  of  Theseus. 
^ C the  illustrious  son  of  iEgeus,  king  of 
1234  * -^t^iens’  m celebrated  expedition  to 
* Crete,  during  the  reign  of  the  second 
Minos.  The  last-mentioned  prince  joined  the 
splendour  of  military  renown  to  the  famed 
wisdom  of  his  revered  ancestor.  His  maritime 
force  exceeded  the  united  strength  of  his  neigh- 
bours; he  subdued  several  of  the  circumjacent 
isles ; and  while  he  permitted  his  own  subjects 
to  ravage  the  coasts  of  Greece,  under  pretence 
of  lawful  war,  he  effectually  checked  the  pirati- 
cal depredations  of  the  Carians,  Lycians,  and 
Phoenicians,  which  had  hitherto  proved  so  fre- 
quent and  so  destructive.3  Athens  experienced 
the  effects  of  his  power  and  ambition,  and  re- 
luctantly submitted  to  a disgraceful  tribute  of 

1 Aioj  (nyxKsv  e»f »gt>!5.  Odvss.  L xix.  v.  179.  which 
Horace  translates, 

Jovis  arcanis  Minos  admissus.  L.  i.  Ode  28. 

2 Strabo,  1.  x.  p.  450.  Plato  in  Minoe.  Diod.  1.  v. 

3 Thucydid.  1.  i. 


seven  youths,  and  as  many  virgins,4  which  wa$ 
cruelly  exacted  by  a nation  who  subsisted  bi^j 
the  laoour  of  slaves.  The  tributary  captive® 
were  drawn  by  lot  from  the  body  of  the  peopl® 
who  trembled  at  the  annual  return  of  the  Cre-1 
tan  vessel.  Discontents  arose  against  the  go- 
vernment of  fflgeus,  who  seemed  to  bear  the 
indignity  with  too  much  tameness;  when  his  , 
heroic  son,  with  a patriotism  congenial  to  his 
character,  generously  offered  his  life  in  the 
service  of  his  country.5  The  fame  of  Theseus 
had  already  reached  the  ears  of  Minos,  who  \ 
respected  lus  virtues;  and  this  respect  was  con- 
verted into  admiration,  on  beholding  the  Athe^ 
nian  prince  a voluntary  captive.  Mmos  treatetn 
him  with  the  affectionate  kindness  of  ancient 1 
hospitality ; gave  him  his  daughter  Ariadne  ini 
marriage ; and  declared  the  Athenians  thence-’ 
forth  free  from  a contribution  equally  cruel  andi 
ignominious.  Theseus  reaped  great  glory  froi^t. 
this  transaction.  The  vessel,  in  which  he 
sailed,  continued  to  be  annually  sent,  for  morel 
than  eight  centuries  afterwards,  to  return 
thanks  to  Apollo,  in  his  favourite  island  off 
Dellos;6  and  the  fortunate  voyage  to  Crete  wa* 
celebrated  by  sacrifices,  and  other  ceremonies^ 
handed  down  to  the  latest  times  of  the  Athenian 
republic.7 * 

Many  extraordinary  circumstances,  invented 
by  the  poets,  disfigure  events,  which  are  othe® 
wise  sufficiently  authenticated.  The  unnaturlfP 
amours  of  the  abominable  Pasiphae,  and  the 
bloody  feasts  of  the  monstrous  Minotaur,6  have 
been  faithfully  transcribed,  from  one  age  to 
another,  in  the  tiresome  compilations  of  inju- 
dicious mythologists ; but  it  seems  not  to  have 
occurred  to  those  writers,  that  the  expedition  to 
Crete  laid  the  foundation  of  the  improvements 
afterwards  introduced  by  Theseus  into  the 
Athenian  government.  The  institutions  and 
manners  of  that  island  presented  a picture  of 
more  regular  composition,  and  more  harmoni- 
ous colouring,  than  could  be  seen  in  any  part 
of  the  Grecian  continent.  Various  societies 
of  freemen,  all  united  under  one  government, 
all  equal  among  themselves,  and  all  served  by 
slaves;  no  private  property  in  land ; the  men 
eating  at  public  tables,  and  the  families  sub- 
sisting from  the  common  stock ; the  youth 
regularly  trained  to  the  gymnastic  exercises, 
navigation,  and  war;  a severe  morality  enforced 
by  law ; honour  the  reward  of  age  and  merit ; 
and  the  whole  community  acknowledging  the 
prerogative  of  a hereditary  king,  who  derived 
his  authority  from  Jupiter,  but  who  was  no 
longer  entitled  to  the  divine  protection  than  he 
continued  to  observe  justice,  and  to  maintain 
the  unalienable  privileges  of  his  subjects.9  Im- 
pressed with  the  salutary  institutions  which  he 

4 Odyss.  L xi.  v.  320.  et  Virgil,  iEn.  6. 

Turn  pendere  poenas 

Cecropirfa?  jussi,  miserum!  septena  quotannia 

Corpora  natorum.  . 

5 Ipse  suum  TJiesens  pro  caris  corpus  Athenis 

Projicere  optaviL Catullua. 

6 Plato.  Phaedo.  7 Plot  in  Theseo. 

8 Hie  crudelis  amor  tauri,  suppostaque  farto 

Pasiphae,  Ac. 

The  judicious  Virgil  places  these  strange  stories  in  the 
sculptured  porch  of  an  ancient  temple. 

9 Aristot.  Polit.  1.  ii.  c.  9,  & c.  Strabo,  ibid.  Plato  de  leg. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


19 


I.] 


beheld  in  this  flourishing  island,  Theseus,  upon 
his  accession  to  the  throne  of  his  father,  was 
ambitious  to  introduce  them  into  his  native 
I country.  The  rudeness  of  the  Athenians,  in- 
deed, admitted  not  the  introduction  of  written 
laws.  But  the  scattered  villages  of  Attica 
were  persuaded  to  embrace  the  regulations  of 
the  capital;10  to  unite  in  common  ceremonies 
of  religion  ; to  acknowledge  the  reciprocal  obli- 
gations of  subjects;  and,  while  they  asserted 
the  right  of  citizens,  to  respect,  during  peace  and 
war,  the  sacred  prerogative  of  royal  majesty. 

The  improvements  in  domestic  policy,  thus 
introduced  into  Attica  by  the  example  of  Crete, 
and  the  wisdom  of  Theseus,  were  gradually 
adopted  by  the  neighbouring  provinces.11  At 
the  commencement  of  the  Trojan  war,  all  the 
Grecian  states  had  embraced  one  uniform  sys- 
tem of  government,  uniting  the  independent 
spirit  of  European  freedom  with  the  respectful 
veneration  of  Egyptian  and  Asiatic  supersti- 
tion.12 This  singular  frame  of  policy,  com- 
posed of  materials  seemingly  incapable  of  al- 
liance, was  peculiarly  well  adapted  to  great  and 
generous  undertakings  ; and  unless  the  divine, 
though  limited  authority  of  kings,  had  fortified 
the  other  institutions  which  served  to  tame  the 
ferocity  of  the  Greeks,  there  is  reason  to  doubt 
whether  their  leaders  could  have  engaged  above 
a hundred  thousand  stubborn  barbarians  to  un- 
dertake a distant  and  difficult  enterprise,  much 
less  have  detained  their  reluctant  impatience 
during  ten  years  in  the  siege  of  Troy. 

Before  we  examine  the  causes  and  incidents 
of  this  celebrated  siege,  to  which  the  exploits 
hitherto  related  ..seem  but  unworthy  preludes, 
it  may  be  proper  to  take  a short  view  of  the 
strength  and  resources  of  the  two  nations,  who 
were  eager  to  shock  in  a conflict,  that  totally  de- 
stroyed the  one,  and  proved  extremely  ruinous 
to  the  other.  Exclusive  of  the  provinces  of 
Epirus  and  Macedonia,  which  long  remained 
barbarous  and  uncultivated,  the  continental 
possessions  of  the  Greeks  were  nearly  equal 
to  Scotland  in  extent,  marked  .with  still  bolder 
features,  and  blessed  with  a warmer  sun.  In 
its  length,  the  whole  country  is  almost  equally 
divided  by  two  opposite  gulfs,  compressing 
between  them  a mountainous  neck  of  land,  to 
the  breadth  of  only  five  miles,  into  the  penin- 
sula of  Peloponnesus,  and  the  territory  extend- 
ing northwards,  from  the  extremity  of  the  Co- 
rinthian isthmus  to  the  southern  frontier  of 
Macedonia.13  The  Peloponnesus,  a hundred 
and  sixty  miles  in  length,  and  scarcely  one 
hundred  in  breadth,  is  every  where  intersected 
by  mountains,  particularly  the  towering  ridges 
of  Zarex  and  Taygetus.  During  the  flourish- 
ing ages  of  Greece,  this  small  peninsula  con- 
tained seven  independent  communities,  of  un- 
equal power  and  fame,  which  ranked  in  the 
following  order  : The  comparatively  large,  and 
highly  diversified  territory  of  Laconia ; the 
fruitful  vale  of  Argos ; the  extensive  coast  of 
Achaia;  the  narrow  but  commercial  isthmus 
of  Corinth ; the  central  and  mountainous  re- 
gion of  Arcadia ; together  with  the  more  level 

10  Thucydid.  I.  ii.  Pint,  in  Thesco. 

11  Dionys.  Halac.  1.  v.  12  Homer  passim. 

13  Strabo,  1.  vii. 


countries  of  Elis  and  Messinia,  which  are 
throughout  better  adapted  to  tillage  than  any 
other  provinces  of  the  Peloponnesus.14  The 
Grecian  possessions  beyond  the  Corinthian 
isthmus  were  more  considerable,  extending 
above  two  hundred  miles  from  east  to  west, 
and  one  hundred  and  fifty  from  north  to  south. 
They  were  naturally  divided,  by  the  long  and 
intricate  ridges  of  Olympus,  Pindus,  Oeta,  and 
Ossa,  into  nine  separate  provinces ; which, 
during  the  celebrated  ages  of  Grecian  freedom, 
were  occupied  by  nine  independent  republics. 
They  comprehended  the  extensive  and  fertile 
plains  of  Thessaly  and  Bceotia,  both  of  which 
were,  in  early  times,  much  exposed  to  inunda- 
tions ; and  the  latter,  abounding  in  subterra- 
nean caverns,  was  peculiarly  subject  to  earth- 
quakes ; the  less  fertile,  but  more  secure  terri- 
tory of  Attica;  the  western  provinces  of  iEtolia 
and  Acarnania,  encompassed  on  one  side  by 
dangerous  seas,  and  confined  on  the  other  by 
almost  impassable  mountains ; and  the  four 
small  rocky  districts  of  Phocis,  Doris,  Locris, 
and  Megara.15 

It  has  been  observed,  that  these  names  and 
divisions,  which  remained  to  the  latest  times, 
are  pretty  accurately  marked  by  Homer,  whose 
poems  continued,  through  succeeding  ages,  to 
be  the  approved  standard  and  legal  code,  to 
which  neighbouring  communities  appealed,  in 
adjusting  their  disputed  boundaries.16  This 
observation,  however,  must  be  qualified  chiefly 
by  two  exceptions.  During  the  Trojan  war, 
the  extensive  province  of  Thessaly  sent  forth 
above  a fourth  part  of  the  whole  Grecian 
strength,  and  was  divided  among  many  war- 
like leaders.  It  might  naturally  be  expected, 
while  agriculture  and  pasturage  were  the 
principal  occupations  subservient  to  human 
life,  that  a country,  abounding  in  plains  and 
meadows,  should  excel  in  population  and  in 
power.17  When  commerce,  navigation,  and 
the  mechanic  arts  enriched  and  adorned  the 
middle  and  southern  divisions  of  Greece,  the 
northern  district  of  Thessaly  lost  its  ancient 
pre-eminence.  The  second  exception  arose 
from  the  extensive  power  of  the  house  of  Pe- 
lops,  which,  as  already  mentioned,  had,  by  for- 
tunate marriages  and  rich  successions,  acquired 
dominion  over  the  northern  and  eastern  parts 
of  the  Peloponnesus,  formerly  containing  seve- 
ral independent  principalities,  and,  after  the 
misfortunes  of  Agamemnon  and  his  family, 
again  divided  into  the  immortal  republics  of 
Sparta,  Argos,  Corinth,  and  Achaia. 

From  this  general  view  of  the  country,  it 
will  not  appear  remarkable,  that,  in  an  age 
when  every  able-bodied  man  was  a soldier, 
Greece  should  have  raised  an  army  of  a hun- 
dred and  two  thousand  men.  The  Acarna- 
nians  alone,  for  reasons  unknown,  sent  no 
forces  to  Troy.  But  the  continent  was  assisted 
by  the  generous  efforts  of  Crete,  of  Rhodes, 
and  of  many  smaller  islands,  which  were  sub- 
ject to  their  respective  princes,  or  governed  by 
the  wide-extended  dominion  of  Agamemnon. 
The  vessels  collected  for  transporting  these 

14  Strabo,  ibid,  et  Pausan.  Messen. 

15  Strabo,  1.  vii.  16  Flut.  in  Solon. 

1?  Plato  in  Mcnon. 


20 


HISTORl  OF  GREECE. 


forces  to  Asia  amounted  to  twelve  hundred 
sail.  They  were  equipped  at  little  expense, 
and  built  with  little  ingenuity,  moved  by  only 
one  bank  of  oars,  and  entirely  unprovided  with 
decks  or  anchors.  Their  complement  varied 
in  different  vessels  ; some  contained  a hundred 
and  twenty,  others  only  fifty  men,  who  appear 
to  have  been  equally  acquainted  with  the  mili- 
tary art,  as  practised  in  that  remote  age,  and 
with  the  rude  simplicity  of  ancient  navigation.1 

The  celebrated  kingdom  of  Priam,  against 
which  this  armanent  was  directed,  occupied 
the  eastern  banks  of  the  Hellespont,  the  south- 
ern coast  of  the  Propontis,  and  the  northern 
shores  of  the  iEgean.  From  the  river  Esepus 
to  the  promontory  of  Lectum,  the  Trojan  do- 
minions extended  in  length  two  hundred  miles ; 
but  their  breadth  was  far  less  considerable,  be- 
ing irregularly  compressed  between  three  seas, 
and  the  lofty  ridges  of  mount  Ida.  This  de- 
lightful and  picturesque  country,  which  excelled 
Greece  in  fruitfulness  of  soil  and  softness  of 
climate,2  was  distinguished  by  the  epithet  of 
Hellespontian,  from  the  large  inland  province, 
which  bore  the  common  name  of  Phrygia.3 
The  Lesser,  or  Hellespontian  Phrygia,  was 
planted,  according  to  a tradition,  by  a Grecian 
colony,  about  two  hundred  years  before  the 
Trojan  war.  The  similarity  of  religion,  lan- 
guage, and  manners,  sufficiently  justified  that 
opinion,  and  seems  to  have  induced  the  most 
diligent  inquirers  of  antiquity  to  regard  not 
only  the  Trojans,  but  the  Lycians  and  Pam- 
phylians,  as  scattered  branches  of  the  Hellenic 
nation,4  which  distance  of  place  had  gradually 
cut  off  from  all  communication  with  the  trunk. 
The  Asiatic  Greeks  were  exposed  to  none  of 
those  unfavourable  cirumstances  already  men- 
tioned, which  long  retarded  the  improvement 
of  their  brethren  in  Europe.  The  fertile  and 
extensive  plains  of  Asia  offered  them  the  ma- 
terials of  more  powerful  kingdoms  than  Greece 
could  afford ; and,  instead  of  being  harassed 
and  endangered  by  the  continual  incursions  of 
northern  savages,  they  enjoyed  the  vicinity  of 
the  Phrygians  and  Lydians,  nations  described 
as  flourishing  in  wealth  and  peace  from  the  re- 
motest antiquity.5  From  the  prevalence  of 
the  Grecian  language  and  customs  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  name  of  the  country  on  the 
other,  it  is  not  unreasonable  to  suppose,  that 
the  Trojans  were  a mingled  race  of  Greeks 
and  Phrygians,  collected  by  Dardanus,  ances- 
tor fifth  in  degree  to  old  Priam. 

This  adventurer,  whose  parentage  Homer 
leaves  uncertainly  calling  him  son  of  Jupiter,6 
founded  a city  on  one  of  the  many  western 
branches  *of  mount  Ida,  commanding  a beau- 
tiful and  fertile  plain,  and  watered  by  the 
immortal  rivers  Simois  and  Scamander.7 
The  new  settlement  flourished  under  his  son, 
the  wealthy  Erichthonius,  who,  by  the  judi- 
cious management  of  his  mares  and  stallions, 
supplied  the  neighbouring  kingdoms  with 


1 Thucydid.  ibid.  Homer,  passim. 

2 Hippocrat.  de  Loc.  3 Strabo,  1.  xiii. 

4 Herodot.  1.  vii.  Strabo,  1.  xiv. 

5 Herodot.  1.  i.  Dionys.  Halic.  1.  i.  Suidas  in  voc. 

Avrsxo; . 

6 Diad,  xx  v.  215. 

7 Ibid.  xx.  v.  216,  &c.  Strabo  lxiiu 


[Chap. 

horses  of  a superior  breed.  His  successor 
Tros,  communicated  his  name  to  the  ter 
ritory,  which  was  often  called  Troas,  and  to 
the  celebrated  city  Ilion,  which  his  son  Uusf 
having  removed  his  residence  from  the  moun- 
tain, built  on  the  adjoining  plain.  Laomedon, 
the  successor  of  Ilus,  fortified  the  town  of 
Ilion,  or  Troy,  with  walls  of  such  uncommon 
strength,  that,  in  the  language  and  belief  of 
the  times,  they  were  deemed  the  work  of  the 
gods.8  Whether  he  defrauded  his  supposed 
auxiliaries  of  their  promised  rewards  and  sacri- 
fices, or  supplied  the  expense  of  this  under- 
taking by  despoiling  their  sacred  shrines,  it  is 
certain  that  the  guilt  of  Laomedon  was  believ- 
ed to  entail  calamity  on  his  unhappy  descend- 
ants. 

His  son  Priam,  however,  long  enjoyed  the 
deceitful  gifts  of  fortune,  before  he  was  over- 
taken by  the  vengeance  of  heaven.  Having 
attained  old  age  in  the  undisturbed  possession 
of  a throne,  he  was  surrounded  by  a numerous 
and  flourishing  family,  beloved  by  his  subjects, 
and  respected  by  his  neighbours.  Yet  this 
amiable,  but  too  indulgent  prince,  was  destined 
to  feel  the  sharpest  pangs  of  human  misery. 

Hereditary  feuds  subsisted  between  the  an- 
cestors of  Priam  and  those  of  Agamemnon, 
when  the  latter  quitted  their  establishments  in 
Asia,  to  seek  new  settlements  in  Greece.  The 
insult  offered  to  Ganymede,  a beautiful  Trojan 
youth,  by  the  brutal  fury  of  Tantalus,9  was  re- 
torted on  Menelaus,  the  fourth  in  descent  from 
this  infamous  prince,  by  the  rape  and  detention 
of  his  queen,  the  celebrated  Helen.  Paris,  the 
ill-fated  son  of  Priam,  was  the  author  of  this 
new  injury.  But  resentment  for  the  wrongs 
of  his  house  formed  not  the  only  motive  which 
engaged  the  youthful  levity  of  Paris  to  disho- 
nour the  sister-in-la-w  of  Agamemnon.  Helen 
was  the  daughter  of  Tyndareus,  king  of  Sparta. 
The  illustrious  honours  of  her  family  were 
adorned  by  the  generous  magnanimity  of  her 
brothers,  Castor  and  Poly  deuces,  whose  ex- 
ploits shone  conspicuous  in  all  the  military  ex- 
peditions of  that  gallant  age.  But  the  native 
lustre  of  Helen  needed  not  the  aid  of  foreign 
ornament.  Even  in  the  tender  age  of  child- 
hood, her  opening  charms  had  inflamed  the 
heart  of  Theseus,16  the  most  admired  and  the 
most  virtuous  of  the  Grecian  chiefs.  The 
fame  of  her  beauty  increased  with  her  ripening 
age,  and  her  person  became  an  object  of  eager 
contention  among  those  who,  by  birth  or  merit, 
were  entitled  to  aspire  at  the  invaluable  prize. 
Tyndareus,  solicitous  to  prevent  the  violence 
of  a second  lover  (for,  agreeably  to  the  man- 
ners of  his  age,  Theseus  had  carried  her  off  by 
force,)  bound  the  various  suitors  by  an  oath  to 
defend  the  honour  of  his  daughter,  and  to  se- 
cure the  possession  of  her  charms  to  the  man 
who  should  be  honoured  with  her  choice.11 
The  princely  mien  ahd  insinuating  manners 

8 Homer,  Iliad,  xx.  v.  216,  &c.  Strabo,  lxiii. 

9 It  has  been  observed,  that  the  story  of  Tantalus,  father 
of  Pelops,  was  probabl^the  invention  of  a later  age.  It  is 
certain  that,  whatever  might  prevail  in  Phrygia,  the  unna- 
tural passion,  which  disgraced  the  later  times  of  Greece, 
was  unknown  in  that  country  during  the  heroic  ages 
Natal.  Com.  1.  ix.  c.  13. 

10  Plut  in  Theseo  11  Thucydid.  1. 1.  c.  9. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


21 


I] 

of  Menelaus,  were  preferred  to  the  more  solid 
qualities  of  his  numerous  competitors.  Hav- 
ing married  the  heiress  of  Tyndareus,  he  suc- 
ceeded. in  her  right,  to  the  Spartan  throne.12 
The  graceful  pair  had  not  long  enjoyed  the 
honours  of  royalty,  and  the  sweets  of  conjugal 
union,  when  their  happiness  was  interrupted  by 
the  arrival  of  the  son  of  Priam,  the  handsomest 
man  of  his  age,  and  singularly  adorned  with 
the  frivolous  accomplishments  that  often  cap- 
tivate the  weakness  of  a female  mind.  Though 
a soldier  of  no  great  renown,  Paris  had  strongly 
imbibed  the  romantic  spirit  of  gallantry  which 
prevailed13  in  the  heroic  ages,  and  was  distin- 
guished by  an  ardent  passion  for  beauty,  which, 
notwithstanding  the  general  softness  of  his 
unwarlike  character,  prompted  him  to  brave 
every  danger  in  pursuit  of  his  favourite  ob- 
ject. Animated  by  the  hope  of  beholding  the 
inimitable  model  of  what  he  most  adored,  he 
seized  the  opportunity  afforded  him  by  a voy- 
age of  Menelaus  into  Crete,  visited  the  domi- 
nions of  his  hereditary  enemies,  and  solicited 
the  rights  of  hospitality  at  the  Spartan  court. 

His  person,  his  accomplishments,  his  address, 
and  still  more  the  voluntary  hardships  which 
he  had  endured  for  her  sake,  seduced  the  incon- 
stant affections  of  the  Grecian  queen.  Ena- 
moured of  the  elegant  stranger,  she  abandoned 
her  country  and  her  husband,  and  having  trans- 
ported her  most  valuable  treasure  within  the 
Trojan  walls,  defied  the  resentment  of  Greece, 
and  the  vengeance  of  heaven. 

It  was  now  the  time  for  Menelaus  to  crave 
the  stipulated  assistance  of  his  ancient  rivals. 
His  demand  was  enforced  bj  the  authority  of 
Agamemnon.14  At  the  summons  of  the  two 
brothers,  the  confedm^ites  assembled  at  ACgium, 
the  capital  of  Achaia;  confirmed  the  obliga- 
tion of  their  former  promise;  settled  the  pro- 
portion of  troops  to  be  raised  by  each  prince  ; 
determined  the  time  and  place  of  their  de- 
parture ; and  named  Agamemnon,  the  most 
powerful  among  them,  to  the  chief  command, 
in  an  expedition  which  so  deeply  concerned 
the  honour  of  his  family. 

Aulis,  a sea  port  of  Boeotia,  was  appointed 
for  the  place  of  rendezvous  and  embarkation.15 
Before  the  whole  armament  sailed  from  thence, 
Ulysses  king  of  Ithaca,  and,  what  may  seem 
extraordinary,  the  injured  Menelaus,  undertook 
a solemn  embassy  to  Troy,  in  order  to  demand 
restitution  and  reparation ; but  returned  highly 
disgusted  with  their  reception  and  treatment. 
Some  members  of  the  Trojan  council  had  the 
barbarity  to  propose  putting  them  to  death. 
Their  just  indignation  increased  the  warlike 
ardour  of  their  associates.  But  contrary  winds 
long  retarded  their  departure.  The  Trojans 
had  time  to  strengthen  their  ramparts,  to  col- 
lect arms  and  provisions,  and  to  summon  the 
assistance  of  their  distant  allies.  The  martial 


12  Pausan.  Lacon. 

13  Perseus  had  carried  off  the  African  Medusa;  Jason, 
Medea  of  Colchis  ; Theseus,  the  Amazon  Antiope ; Her- 
cules, Megara,  Iole,  Deaneira,  & c.  The  historical  poets  of 
the  heroic  ages  might  have  said,  with  Ariosto, 

Le  donne,  i cavelier,  Parme,  gli  amori, 

Le  cortesie,  l’audaci  imprese  io  canto. 

14  Thucydid.  1.  i.  c.  9. 

15  Hesiod,  Oper.  et  Dies. 


spirit  of  the  age,  together  with  a sense  of  com- 
mon danger,  brought  many  powerful  auxilia- 
ries to  Priam.  His  cause  was  defended  by  the 
hardy  mountaineers  who  covered  the  back  of 
his  kingdom;  by  the  Carians,  Lycians,  and 
other  nations  of  Asia  Minor,  extending  from 
the  mouth  of  the  river  Halys  to  the  southern 
extremity  of  Cilicia;  and  by  the  Pelasgi,  Thra- 
cians, and  Pseonians,  fierce  barbarians  who  in- 
habited the  European  side  of  the  Hellespont 
and  Propontis.  Confiding,  however,  rather  in 
their  domestic  strength,  than  in  foreign  assist- 
ance, the  Trojans  determined  to  defend  their 
native  shores  against  hostile  invasion.  The  de- 
barkation of  the  Greeks  was  purchased  by  much 
blood.  Having  effected  a descent,  they  encamp- 
ed on  the  Trojan  plains,  but  lost  the  only  oppor- 
tunity which  they  enjoyed  during  many  years, 
of  crushing  at  once  the  power  of  their  enemies; 
who  immediately  shut  themselves  up  within 
their  impenetrable  walls,  leaving  the  city  open 
only  on  the  side  of  mount  Ida,  from  which 
they  received  com,  cattle,  and  other  necessary 
supplies. 

Agamemnon,  as  there  was  reason  to  expect 
from  the  manners  of  his  age,  had  been  more 
industrious  in  collecting  a great  army,  than  pro- 
vident in  contriving  means  by  which  it  might 
keep  the  field.  The  provisions,  transported 
from  Greece,  were  speedily  consumed,  while 
the  operations  of  the  siege  promised  little  hope 
of  success,  the  Greeks  being  unacquainted  with 
any  military  engines  fitted  to  make  an  impres- 
sion on  the  Trojan  walls.  With  such  a nume- 
rous army,  they  might  have  converted  the  siege 
into  a blockade ; but  scarcity  of  supplies  com- 
pelled the  greater  part  of  them  to  quit  the 
camp.  The  resource  of  ravaging  the  adjacent 
couhtry  soon  exhausted  itself.  Many  betook 
themselves  to  cultivating  the  rich  vales  of  the 
Chersonesus,  whose  industrious  inhabitants  had 
recently  been  expelled,  or  destroyed,  by  the 
fierce  incursions  of  the  barbarous  Thracians.16 
Others  had  recourse  to  piracy,  scoured  the 
neighbouring  seas,  ravaged  the  unprotected 
coasts  of  the  Hellespont  and  Aegean,  and  plun- 
dered or  demolished  such  unfortified  places  as 
acknowledged  the  dominion,  or  assisted  the 
arms  of  Troy.17  These  ravages  excited  the 
rage  of  the  Asiatics,  and  rendered  them  more 
hearty  in  the  cause  of  their  confederates.  In 
this  manner  nine  summers  and  winters  elapsed, 
without  affording  the  nearer  prospect  of  a de- 
cision to  the  contest;  but,  in  the  tenth  year  of 
the  war,  the  seeming  misfort  unes  of  the  Greeks 
precipitated  the  downfal  of  the  proud  city  of 
Priam.  A dreadful  pestilence  invaded  the  camp 
of  the  besiegers,  and  long  continued  to  rage 
with  unabating  fury.  This  calamity  was  fol- 
lowed by  the  well-known  quarrel  between  Aga- 
memnon and  Achilles,  which  deprived  the  Gre- 
cian army  of  its  principal  strength  and  orna- 
ment. The  Trojans  derived  new  spirits  from 
the  misfortunes  of  their  enemies;  they  ventured 
to  abandon  the  protection  of  their  walls,  boldly 
assailed  the  Grecian  camp,  and  risked  several 
engagements,  in  most  of  which  they  were  vic- 
torious. In  the  last  of  these,  the  beloved  friend 


1G  Thucydid.  1.  i. 


17  Horner,  passim. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


22 

of  Achilles  was  slain  by  the  arm  of  Hector,  the 
bravest  and  most  generous  of  the  Trojan  race. 
This  event,  which  was  infinitely  more  dreadful 
than  death  to  the  affectionate  ardour  of  the 
Grecian  chief,  stifled  his  hitherto  inexorable  re- 
sentment against  the  proud  tyranny  of  Aga- 
memnon. His  return  to  the  camp  restored  the 
declining  fortune  of  the  Greeks;  and  the  indig- 
nant fury  of  his  rage  was  quenched  in  the  de- 
tested blood  of  Hector,  whose  patriotic  valour 
had  long  been  the  firmest  bulwark  of  his  father’s 
kingdom.  The  destruction  of  Troy1  soon  fol- 
lowed the  death  of  her  darling  hero.  The  city, 
whether  taken  by  storm  or  by  surprise,  was  set 
on  fire  daring  night;  most  of  the  citizens  pe- 
rished by  the  sword,  or  were  dragged  into  cap- 
tivity ; and  only  a miserable  remnant  escaped 
through  the  confused  horror  of  raging  flames 
and  expiring  kinsmen. 

The  burning  of  Troy  happened  eleven  hun- 
dred and  eighty-four  years  before  the  Christian 
era.  Neither  the  city  nor  territory  ever  assum- 
ed in  any  succeeding  age,  the  dignity  of  inde- 
pendent government.2  The  sea-coast  was  plant- 
ed, eighty  years  after  the  Trojan  war,  by  new 
colonies  from  Greece;  and  the  inland  parts  sub- 
mitted to  the  growing  power  of  the  Lydians, 
whose  arms  overspread  and  conquered  all  the 
finest  provinces  of  lesser  Asia.3 

The  Greeks  had  recovered  possession  of  the 


[Chap. 

admired  beauty  of  Helen;  they  had  taken  com- 
plete vengeance  on  the  family  and4  nation  of 
her  unhappy  seducer ; but  the  misfortunes, 
which  were  the  natural  consequence  of  the 
Trojan  expedition,  left  them  little  reason  to 
' boast  of  their  victory.  Of  five  Boeotian  com- 
manders, only  one  remained,  and  the  siege  had 
been  proportionably  fatal  to  the  leaders  of  other 
tribes,  as  well  as  to  their  warlike  followers. 
Those  who  lived  to  divide  the  rich  spoils  of 
Troy,  were  impatient  to  set  sail  with  their 
newly-acquired  treasure,  notwithstanding  the 
threatening  appearance  of  the  skies.  Many  of 
them  perished  by  shipwreck;  the  rest  were  long 
tossed  on  unknown  seas;  and  when  they  ex- 
pected to  find  in  their  native  country  the  end 
of  their  calamities,  they  were  exposed  to  suffer 
greater  calamities  there,  than  any  which  they 
had  yet  endured.  The  thrones  of  several  of 
the  absent  princes  had  been  usurped  by  violence 
and  ambition;  the  lands  of  various  communi- 
ties had  been  occupied  by  the  invasion  of  hos- 
tile tribes:  even  the  least  unfortunate  of  those 
adventurers  found  their  domains  uncultivated, 
or  their  territories  laid  waste;  their  families 
torn  by  discord,  or  their  cities  shaken  by  sedi- 
tion. And  thus  the  most  celebrated  enterprise 
of  combined  Greece  tended  to  plunge  that  de- 
lightful and  once  happy  country  into  barbarism 
and  misery.5 


CHAPTER  II. 

Religion — Government — Arts — Manners , and  Character. 


nHHE  ancient  Greeks  had  strongly  imbibed 
an  opinion,  that  the  country  in  which  they 
lived  was  peculiarly  favourable  to  the  dignity 
of  human  nature.  The  voluptuous  climates  of 
Asia  produced  invention  and  ingenuity,  but 
softened  the  tempers  of  men  into  a fitness  for 
servitude.  The  rigorous  severity  of  European 
skies  gave  strength  and  agility  to  the  limbs, 
and  hardy  boldness  to  the  mind,  but  chilled 
the  fancy,  and  benumbed  the  finer  feelings  of 
the  soul.  The  inhabitants  of  the  east  and  south 
were  degraded  below  the  condition  of  huma- 


1 We  should  probably  know  somethin?  more  6f  the  his- 
tory of  the  Trojan  war,  if  the  works  of  Pisander  remained. 
Macrobius,  in  speaking  of  the  plagiarisms  of  the  Romans 
from  Greek  writers,  has  the  following  passage:  “ Quee  Vir- 
gilius  traxit  a Grascis,  dicturumne  me  putetis,  quae  vulgo 
nota  8001?  . . . vel  quod  eversionem  Trojie  cum  Sinone 
suo  et  equo  ligneo,  ceterisque  omnibus,  qua)  librum  secun- 
dum faciunt,  a Pisandro  pene  adverhum  transcripserit,  qui 
inter  Graecos  poetas  eminot,”  &c.  Macrob.  1.  v.  c.  2. 

2 I have  carefully  examined  the  evidence  given  by  Bo- 
ehart,  (Epist.  num  iEneas  unquam  fuit  in  Italia,)  and  by 
Mr.  Wood  (Essay  on  the  original  Genius  of  Homer,)  to 
prove  that  the  descendants  of  .Eneas  reigned  In  Trov.  But 
notwithstanding  the  learned  ingenuity  of  a profound,  and 
the  plausible  criticism  of  an  elegant  scholar,  the  matter 
seems  still  too  doubtful  to  warrant  contradicting  the  popular 
opinion. 

3 Herod.  1.  ii.  Tbucyd.l.i.  Justin,  1.  xviii.  Strabo,  1.  iii. 

4 I dwell  not  on  a subject  which  has  been  handled  by 
the  great  masters  of  the  passions.  See  Virgil : 

Forsitan  et  Priami  fuerint  qure  fata  requiras,  &c. 


| nity,  by  an  unfortunate  abuse  of  power,  while 
the  turbulent  sons  of  the  north  and  west  were 
incapable,  from  ignorance  and  indocility,  of 
submitting  to  any  regular  system  of  govern- 
ment. The  Greeks  alone,  possessing  an  inter- 
mediate situation  between  the  extremes  of  cold 
and  heat,  united  courage  and  capacity  ; tem- 
pered the  stern  and  manly,  with  the  gentler  vir- 
tues ; and  enjoyed  the  double  advantage  of 
liberty  and  laws.6 

This  splendid  observation  is  too  flattering  to 
the  dictates  of  national  vanity  to  be  hastily 
adopted  by  a cautious  inquirer  into  truth,  who 
will  be  apt  to  ascribe  the  superior  lustre  of 
Grecian  manners,  rather  to  the  elegant  imagi- 
nation of  authors,  than  to  the  intrinsic  merit  of 
their  subject.  Yet  it  must  be  acknowledged, 
several  circumstances  would  lead  us  to  believe, 
that  the  great  poet  to  whom  we  owe  our  prin- 
cipal information  concerning  the  ancient  state  of 
Greece,  copied  from  nature  only.  The  majesty 
of  Virgil,  the  splendour  of  Tasso,  and  the  sub- 
limity of  Milton,  are  not  sufficient  to  conceal 
an  effort  in  those  noble  writers  to  maintain  the 
tone  which  they  have  assumed ; a desire  to  em- 
bellish the  manners  which  they  describe;  an 

5 Plato  de  Leg.  1.  iii.  Thucyd.  1.  i.  p.  9. 

6 Aristot.  Politic.  1.  vii.  c.  7.  Isocrat.  Govern.  Athen 
I Panegyric,  et  Panathen 


HISTORY  GREECE. 


23 


1*1 

ambition  to  elevate  and  to  adorn  their  poems 
by  the  use  of  a marvellous  machinery,  which 
had  not  its  foundation  in  the  experience,  and 
(as  to  Virgil  and  Tasso)  scarcely  in  the  belief 
of  their  own  age.  In  Homer  there  is  neither 
embellishment,  nor  effort,  nor  disguise  of  any 
kind;  he  relates. what  he  has  seen  and  heard 
with  unaffected  simplicity  ; his  ideas  and  sen- 
timents are  not  only  clothed  in  the  graces  of 
poetry,  but  arrayed  in  the  charms  of  truth ; and 
an  amazing  diversity  of  characters,  preserving 
amidst  innumerable  shades  of  discrimination  a 
general  air  of  resemblance,  distinguish  the  Iliad 
and  Odyssey  above  other  poetical  compositions, 
and  prove  them  to  have  been  copied,  not  from 
the  limited  combinations  of  human  invention, 
but  from  the  wide  variety  of  impressions  in  the 
rich  store-house  of  nature.  In  some  descrip- 
tive parts  of  his  poem,  Homer  doubtless  yielded 
to  the  pleasing  dictates  of  his  inimitable  fancy; 
but  it  seems  plain  from  internal  evidence  only, 
that  he  delineates  with  minute  accuracy  the 
geography,  mythology,  history,  and  manners 
of  Greece ; and  that  his  observations  concern- 
ing all  these  subjects  are  perfectly  agreeable  to 
the  opinions  and  belief  which  universally  pre- 
vailed among  his  countrymen.  If  this  matter 
required  the  aid  of  foreign  evidence,  it  miglit 
be  fully  confirmed  by  the  testimony  of  the 
Greek  historians,  who  support  in  every  in- 
stance the  veracity  of  the  poet;  asserting  not 
only  the  authenticity  of  the  facts  which  he  re- 
lates, but  the  influence  of  the  causes  to  which 
he  ascribes  them.7 

It  may  be  observed,  however,  by  those  who 
would  repress  the  ebullitions  of  Grecian  vanity, 
that  admitting  the  poems  of  Homer  as  com- 
plete evidence  concerning  the  ancient  state  of 
his  country,  all  the  advantage  that  could  follow 
from  this  supposition  is,  that  the  Greeks  have 
been  accurately  described  at  an  earlier  period 
of  their  society  than  most  other  nations;  but 
the  silence  of  those  nations  cannot  reasonably 
be  interpreted  as  a proof  of  their  inferiority  to 
the  Greeks  in  manners  or  in  policy.  The  mas- 
terly description  of  a philosophic  historian  has 
rescued  the  antiquities  of  one  o,ther  people  from 
oblivion;  and  the  generous  spirit  of  their  sim- 
ple but  manly  institutions,  as  painted  by  his  ex- 
pressive pencil,  is  scarcely  disgraced  by  a com- 
parison with  the  boasted  customs  of  the  heroic 
ages. 

In  the  preference  of  military  glory  to  all  other 
advantages,  in  the  freedom  of  debate  in  the 
public  assemblies,  and  in  the  protection  afford- 
ed to  the  rights  and  liberties  of  the  meanest  citi- 


1 The  nature  and  transactions  of  the  gods,  which  justly 
shock  the  feelings  of  the  modern  reader,  are  perfectly  con- 
formable to  the  belief  of  the  Greeks.  The  continual  inter- 
position of  these  ethereal  beings  in  the  affairs  of  human  life, 
is  justified  by  Herodotus,  Thucydides,  Xenophon,  and  all 
succeeding  writers.  Herodotus,  1.  i.  c.  131.  explains  the 
reason  why  the  Persians  erected  neither  temples,  nor  im- 
ages, nor  altars,  by  saying,  ot»  ovx  xv6gu>7ro<pu6ag  evofmrxv 
too?  Seouj,  xxt*7te(>  oi  E\Xi)V£{  sivoei,  “because  they  did 
not,  like  as  the  Greeks,  believe  the  gods  to  partake  of  a 
human  nature,  or  form.”  That  the  gods  often  appeared  in 
a human  shape,  is  taken  for  granted  by  Pausanias  in  Ar- 
cad.  and  Plutarch,  de  Musica.  The  same  opinion  was 
firmly  maintained  by  Julian,  an  orthodox  pagan,  in  a later 
age.  See  Gibbon,  vol.  II.  Many  instances  will  occur  in 
the  following  history,  to  prove  the  exact  conformity  of  Ho- 
mer's descriptions  to  the  general  belief  of  his  country. 


zen,  the  treatise  of  Tacitus  will  equally  apply 
to  the  Germans  and  to  the  Greeks.  But  there 
is  one  material  circumstance  wanting  in  the 
German  which  adds  peculiar  beauty  to  the 
Grecian  character.  Among  the  rude  inhabit- 
ants of  ancient  Germany,  the-  oflices  of  priest 
and  king  were  not  united  in  the  same  person. 
The  rites  of  religion  were  administered  by  a 
particular  order  of  men,  who  might  abuse  the 
superstitious  fears  of  the  multitude  to  promote 
their  own  selfish  designs;  and  the  dread  of  su- 
perior powers,  though  sometimes  employed  to 
enforce  the  dictates  of  nature,  and  to  promote 
the  operations  of  government,  might  also,  with 
equal  success,  be  employed  to  weaken  the  im- 
pressions of  the  one,  and  to  resist  the  authority 
of  the  other.  Besides  this  unfavourable  circum- 
stance, the  superstition  of  the  Germans  was  of 
a dark  and  gloomy  kind,  little  connected  writh 
the  ordinary  duties  of  society,  recommending 
principal^  the  practice  of  courage,  the  only 
virtue  which  there  was  not  any  occasion  to  re- 
commend; and  promising  as  the  reward  of 
what  was  deemed  the  highest  excellence  in  life, 
the  enjoyment  of  an  infamous  paradise  of  im- 
mortal drunkenness  after  death.8 

The  mythology  of  the  Greeks  was  of  a more 
agreeable,  and  of  a far  more  useful  nature.  The 
sceptre,  which  denoted  the  connection  of  civil 
power  with  sacred  protection,  was  conferred  on 
those  who,  while  they  continued  the  humble 
ministers  of  the  gods,  were  appointed  to  be  the 
chief,  but  accountable  guardians  of  the  people.9 
The  same  voice  that  summoned  the  warriors  to 
arms,  or  that  decided,  in  time  of  peace,  their  do- 
mestic contentions,  conducted  the  order  of  their 
religious  worship,  and  presided  in  the  prayers 
and  hymns  addressed  to  the  divinity.  These 
prayers  and  hymns,  together  with  the  import- 
ant rite  of  sacrifice  (which  likewise  was  per- 
formed by  royal  hands,)  formed  the  ceremonial 
part  of  the  Grecian  religion.  The  moral  was 
far  more  extensive,  including  the  principal 
offices  of  life,  and  the  noblest  virtues  of  the 
mind.  The  useful  quality  of  courage  was  pe- 
culiarly acceptable  to  the  stern  god  of  war ; bu 
the  virtues  of  charity  and  hospitality  were  s 
more  pleasing  to  the  more  amiable  divinities. 
The  submission  of  subjects  to  their  prince,  tht 
duty  of  a prince  to  preserve  inviolate  the  right 
of  his  subjects,11  the  obedience  of  children  to 
their  parents,12  the  respect  of  the  young  for  the 
aged,  the  sacred  laws  of  truth,  justice,  honour, 
and  decency,  were  inculcated  and  maintained 
by  the  awful  authority  of  religion.  Even  the 
most  Ordinary  transactions  of  private  life  were 
consecrated  by  the  piety  of  the  Greeks.  They 
ventured  not  to  undertake  a voyage  or  a jour- 
ney, without  soliciting  the  propitious  aid  of  their 
heavenly  protectors.  Every  meal  (and  there 


8 Tacit,  dc  Morib.  German.  Mr.  Gibbon’s  Roman  Em 
pire. 

9 noi/Ul vsg  5 TXVIV. 

10  7rf>og  ytx.(  A»o{  urtv  X7rxvrtg 

Seivoi  re  ti' 

All  strangers  and  boggars  come  from  Jove. 

Odyss.  xiv.  56. 

11  Iliad,  xvi.  v.  385. 

12  It  is  not  humanity,  but  the  fear  of  the  gods,  that  is 
mentioned  as  the  reason  by  Telemachus  for  not  sending 
away  his  mother.  Odyss.  2. 


24 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


were  three1  in  a day)  was  accompanied  with 
a sacrifice  and  libation.  The  common  forms  of 
politeness,  the  customary  duties  of  civility, 
were  not  decided  by  the  varying  taste  of  indi- 
viduals, but  defined  by  the  precise  voice  of  the 
gods.2 

It  would  have  served  little  purpose  to  oppose 
salutary  laws  to  the  capricious  license  of  bar- 
barians, without  guarding  those  laws  by  very 
powerful  sanctions.  Whether  these  sanctions 
be  founded  on  opinion  or  on  fact,  is,  with  re- 
spect to  their  influence  on  the  mind,  a matter 
of  little  moment.  / The  dread  vengeance  of 
imaginary  powers  may  be  equally  effectual 
with  the  fear  of  the  axe  and  halter.  The  cer- 
tainty of  this  vengeance  was  firmly  established 
in  the  Grecian  creed;  and  its  operation  was 
supposed  to  be  so  immediate  and  palpable,  that 
it  was  impossible  for  the  inattention  of  men  to 
overlook,  or  for  their  address  to  elude  its 
force.3  The  daring  violations  of  the  sacred 
law4  were  speedily  overtaken  by  manifest  marks 
of  the  Divine  displeasure.  “ The  insolence  and 
violence  of  the  corrupted  youths,”  says  Ho- 
mer,5 “ cried  aloud  to  heaven,  whose  decrees 
wele  soon  executed  by  the  avenging  hands  of 
Ulysses.”  The  judgments  inflicted  on  guilty 
communities  were  so  familiar  to  the  minds  of 
men,  that  the  poet  introduces  them  by  way  of 
similies;6  and  it  is  evident  from  his  writings 
throughout,  that  every  important  event,  pros- 
perous or  adverse,  which  happened  either  to 
individuals  or  to  nations,  appeared  to  the  pious 
resignation  of  the  Greeks,  the  reward  of  their 
religion  and  virtue,  or  the  punishment  of  their 
irreligion  and  vice.7  The  merit  of  the  father 
was  often  acknowledged  in  the  protection  of 
the  son ; and  the  crimes  of  a guilty  progenitor 
were  often  visited  on  his  descendants  to  the 
third  and  fourth  generation.8 


1 Afiirrov  Sn—vov  Sigyrog. 

2 The  king  of  the  Phasacians  does  not  detain  Ulysses 
longer  than  he  chooses,  lest  he  should  offend  the  gods, 
Odvss.  viii.  See  also  the  behaviour  of  Ulysses  and  Tc'e- 
machus,  in  the  cottage  of  Eumaeus,  Odyss.  xiv.  and  xvi. 

3 See  the  first  book  of  Hesiod’s  poem  “ Of  Works  and 
Days,”  throughout:  and  particularly 

II  ilscrq  rv  S'xxovs  Six jjs  f*v,Si  vZgiv  o$e\Xs,  from  v.  110 
to  v.  242:  and  again, 

TsvSe  yxg  xvig* ttokti  vo/iov  JisrxJi  Kgoi nuiv,  from  v. 
274  to  v.  291. 

4 bsfti<rrx;  A»o;,  Homer,  passim.  5 Odyss.  1. 

6 See  a beautiful  example  of  this,  Iliad,  xvi.  v.  385.  The 
expression  of  Hesiod  is  remarkable : 

IIxvtx  iSnv  A»os  0®5xX/its;,  xxi  ttxvtx  vsqe-x; 

Kxi  vxj  rxSt  xixe  eyz\v,‘ri,  emSzgxz txi,  &c. 

“The  e.ye  of  Jove,  that  beholds  all,  and  observes  all,  looks 
upon  these  transactions,  when  he  pleases;  nor  does  it 
escape  his  notice  what  kind  of  justice  is  rendered  in  the 
citv.” 

7 The  success  of  the  Greeks  against  Troy  proves  both 
parts  of  the  proposition.  All  the  misfortunes  of  the  Grecian 
chiefs  were  inflicted  as  punishments.  Oilean  Ajax  was 
slain  for  his  presumption,  by  Neptune  (Odyss.  iv.;)  and 
Ajax,  the  son  of  Telamon,  was  a memorable  example  of 
the  same  vice.  When  Minerva  offered  him  her  assistance, 
he  desired  her  to  go  to  others,  for  the  enemy  would  never 
attempt  to  penetrate  where  Ajax  fought.  Before  his  de- 
parture for  Tr<>y,  Telamon  prayed  that  the  gods  would 
give  valour  to  his  son;  when  the  proud  son  aspiring  above 
the  condition  of  humanity,  said,  That  any  man  might  be 
brave  and  victorious  by  the  assistance  of  the  gods ; for  his 
nart,  he  expected  to  obtain  glory  by  his  own  merit : the 
gods  punished  him  with  madness,  and,  after  exposing  him 
to  the  ridicule  of  his  enemies,  made  him  fall  by  his  own 
hands.  See  the  Ajax  of  Sophocles,  from  v.  760  to  v.  800. 

8 Minerva  protected  Telemachus  on  account  of  his 

father’s  merit.  Odyss.  passim.  The  misfortunes  of  the 


[Chap. 

These  observations  are  confirmed,  not  only 
by  the  writings  of  Homer  and  Hesiod  through- 
out, but  by  almost  every  page  of  Herodotus,  of 
Pindar,  as  well  as  of  the  Greek  tragedians  and 
historians  ; and  yet  they  seem  to  have  escaped 
the  notice  of  some  of  the  most  ingenious  inqui- 
rers into  the  opinions  of  antiquity.  The  au- 
thority of  Greek  writers  strongly  opposes  two 
systems,  which  have  been  supported  with  great 
ability,  and  which  have  gained  considerable 
credit  in  the  world.  The  first,  that  the  religion 
of  the  ancients  had  little  or  no  connection  with 
morality:  the  second,  that  the  governments 
of  Greece  could  not  have  been  supported  with- 
out the  doctrine  of  a future  state.9  The  con- 
nection between  religion  and  morality  is  clearly 
asserted  in  the  various  passages  to  which  we 
have  had  occasion  to  allude  ; and  the  belief  of 
a future  state  of  retribution  cannot,  according 
to  the  principles  of  the  learned  author  of  the 
Divine  Legation  of  Moses,  be  reckoned  neces- 
sary to  the  government  of  men,  who  are  fully 
persuaded  of  the  actual  and  immediate  inter- 
position of  Divine  wisdom  and  justice,  to  regu- 
late, by  temporal  rewards  and  punishments, 
the  affairs  of  the  present  life.10 

As  this  persuasion  had  such  general  and 
happy  effects  on  the  manners  of  the  Greeks,  it 
may  be  proper  to  consider  its  origin,  and  to  de- 
scribe more  particularly  the  nature  and  genius 
of  the  superstition  to  which  it  gave  birth  : a 
superstition  which,  two  thousand  years  after 
losing  its  imaginary  authority  over  the  useful 
occupations  of  men,  still  preserves  a real  power 
over  their  most  elegant  amusements. 

It  belongs  not  to  the  design  of  this  work  to 
search  for  the  mythological  tenets  of  Greece 
in  the  opinions  of  other  nations  : a subject  of 
inquiry  upon  which  much  learned  conjecture 
and  much  laborious  ingenuity  have  already 
been  very  laudably,  but  I fear  not  very  success- 
fully, employed.11  By  the  dim  light  of  etymo- 


royal  families  of  Thebes  and  Argos,  described  in  the  many 
tragedies  of  iEschylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripides,  abun- 
dantly prove  the  truth  of  the  last  observation. 

9 See  Hume’s  Natural  History  of  Religion,  and  War- 
burton’s  Divine  Legation  of  Moses.  The  eleventh  book  of 
the  Odyssey,  which  the  ancients  called  the  N£Xfo/jx»TEi*, 
is  the  obscurest,  and,  in  my  opinion,  the  least  agreeable 
part  of  Homer.  The  ghosts  are  all  condemned  to  a melan-’ 
choly  and  dreary  state ; even  the  greatest  heroes  are  very 
miserable  and  dejected ; and  there  is  not  any  mention  of 
the  place  of  reward  for  the  virtuous.  Homer  speaks  of  the 
Elvsian  fields  but  once  (Odyssey  iv.  ver.  563.)  Proteus  tells 
Menelaus,  that  he  is  not  destined  to  die  at  Argos,  and  that 
the  gods  would  send  him  £»s  H\v<t»ov  yrzSiov  xxi  yrzigx tx 
yxi/a ; so  that,  if  the  language  is  not  metaphorical,  Ho- 
mer’s Elysium  was  only  a delicious  spot  on  this  earth,  aud 
situated,  accordin?  to  Strabo’s  conjecture,  on  the  southern 
coasts  of  Spain.  Strabo,  1.  iii.  Ulysses  (Odys.  ii.  ver.  600.) 
sees  the  image  of  Hercules  in  Tartarus,  but  the  hero  him- 
self, as  the  poet  informs  us,  was  feasting  with  the  immortal 
gods.  I have  never  met  with  any  intelligible  explanation 
of  this  passage,  the  absurdity  of  which  appeared  a proper 
subject  of  ridicule  to  Lucian,  in  Diogen.  and  Hercul. — 
Hesiod’s  Elysium  is  more  agreeable. 

10  The  gods,  indeed,  are  sometimes  engaged  in  very  un- 
warrantable transactions ; but  these  are  only  means  to  com- 
pass some  wise  and  just  end,  which  the  will  of  providence, 
tbe  Ac;  SsuXn,  or  fate,  had  previously  determined.  Ex- 
amples also  may  be  brought  from  Homer,  of  men  attempt- 
ing to  obtain,  by  costly  sacrifices,  the  assistance  of  the  gods 
in  acts  of  injustice  and  cruelty.  This  must  be  allowed  to 
be  an  inconsistency  in  Grecian  superstition,  or  rather  in  the 
passions  which  gave  it  birth. 

11  Bochart’s  Geograph.  Bryant’s  New  Analysis.  Four- 
mant,  Le  Clerc,  de  la  Pluche,  See.  Their  doctrine  is  op- 
posed in  the  extraordinary  work  of  Vico  Neapolitano,  en- 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


25 


H.j 

logy  and  tradition,  and  the  deceitful  glare  of 
legend  and  fable,  inquisitive  men  have  endea- 
voured to  trace  the  r/jrrupted  streams  of  Pagan 
worship  to  the  pure  fountain  of  the  Jewish  dis- 
pensation.12 But  the  majesty  of  Jehovah  is 
very  feebly  represented  by  the  united  power 
of  Homer’s  divinities  : and  the  mythology  of 
the  Greeks  is  of  such  a peculiar  texture,  that, 
whencesoever  originally  derived,  it  must  have 
undergone  a particular  modification  in  the 
Grecian  soil ; nor  is  it  easy  to  concur  with  the 
opinion  of  writers  who  bring  it  immediately 
from.  Egypt,  Chaldea,  or  Lesser  Asia,  when  we 
consider  that  there  is  not  the  smallest  vestige 
in  Plomer  of  the  judicial  astrology  which  pre- 
vailed so  strongly  in  the  two  first,13  or  of  the 
worshipping  of  idols,  which  almost  universally 
predominated  in  the  last.14 

The  difficulty  of  giving  such  an  historical 
deduction  of  the  Grecian  faith  as  would  not 
be  exposed  to  innumerable  objections,  obliges 
us  to  trace  its  origin  in  the  natural  passions  of 
the  human  heart,  the  hopes,  the  fears,  the 
wants,  the  misery  of  man,  which  have  in  all 
ages  rendered  him  a prey  to  the  terrors  of  su- 
perstition.15 This  miserable  passion,  which, 
in  the  civilized  countries  of  modern  Europe, 
operates  only  at  distant  intervals,  and  chiefly 
in  the  unfortunate  moments  of  disease  and 
danger,  maintains  a constant  and  uninterrupted 
power  over  the  minds  of  barbarians.  The  dis- 
proportionate force  of  the  same  principle 
among  rude  and  among  civilized  men,  is 
ascribed  by  a common  proverb  to  the  gross 
ignorance  of  the  former ; but  it  may,  with 
more  propriety  perhaps,  be  deduced  from  their 
precarious  and  unhappy  manner  of  life,  the  con- 
tinual dangers  to  which  their  existence  is  ex-, 
posed,  and  the  dreadful  calamities  in  which  the 
whole  society  is  too  frequently  involved.16 
Even  among  polished  nations,  the  power  of 
reason  and  philosophy,  however  highly  it  may 
be  extolled  when  the  gentle  current  of  life  flows 
with  placid  tranquillity,  always  proves  too 
feeble  to  resist  the  mountain  torrent  and  the 
storm  of  winter.  Under  the  pressure  of  sudden 
or  inextricable  calamity,  all  those,  who  are  not 
more  or  less  than  men,  have  recourse  to  the 
immediate  assistance  of  invisible  powers;  and 
in  the  splendid  abodes  of  wealth  and  power,  as 
well  as  in  the  American  village  or  Tartar 
horde,  the  era  of  a famine,  a pestilence,  or  an 
earthquake,  is  marked  by  sincere  expressions 
of  faith,  and  commemorated  by  signal  monu- 
ments of  piety.17 

titled  “Principi  di  Scienza  nuova  fl’intorno  alia  comune 
Natura  dclle  Nazione.”  The  third  edition  of  this  work 
was  published  at  Naples,  in  1744. 

12  The  general  doctrine  of  providence,  the  rebellion  in 
heaven,  the  state  of  innocence,  the  fall  of  man,  atonement 
by  sacrifice,  a future  state  of  retribution,  for  which  the  pre- 
sent life  is  only  preparatory : all,  or  some  of  these  tenets, 
are  found  in  the  traditions  of  all  nations,  Greeks  and  Bar- 
barians. See  Hesiod  Oper.  et  Di.  ver.  110  and  ver.  165. 
and  Theog.  ver.  725.  and  ver.  220. 

13  Diodorus  Sicul.  I.  ii.  Exod.  chap.  vi.  Plin.  1.  xxx. 

14  The  Old  Testament,  passim. 

15  Ilai'Tjf  iiMv  %xt  toua-i  xv$e<o7roi — “All  men  stand 
in  need  of  the  gods.”  Horn.  Odyssey,  iii. 

16  erriTxtris  xxi  <tj>t vigixi;  ctTroyvvtrif  e\>xn 
Btwv.  Schol.  in  Homer.  Turn  prascipuus  votorum  locus 
est,  cum  spei  nulles  est.  Plin.  1.  viii.  c.  16. 

17  In  most  men,  true  religion  itself  must,  from  the  nature 
of  human  passions,  hava  the  greatest,  because  an  undi- 

D 


The  great  pillar  of  superstition,  raised  by 
the  anxious  passions  of  men,  was  fortified  in 
Greece  by  a circumstance  incidental  to  all  na- 
tions at  a certain  stage  of  their  political  pro- 
gress. There  is  a period  when  nations  emerg- 
ing from  barbarity,  but  not  yet  corrupted  by 
the  narrow  pursuits  of  avarice,  nor  yet  softened 
by  the  mean  pleasures  of  luxury,  or  contracted 
by  the  dangerous  refinements  of  a selfish  phi- 
losophy, enjoy  a peculiar  sensibility  of  charac- 
ter, which  exerts  itself  in  the  ardour  of  social 
affection,  and  strengthens,  by  a thousand  asso- 
ciations, their  belief  of  invisible  and  intelligent 
powers.  To  men,  thus  disposed  to  wonder 
and  to  believe,  whatever  dazzles  the  imagina- 
tion, announces  the  presence  of  a deity ; 
dreams  and  celestial  appearances  are  deemed 
sacred  and  infallible  admonitions  ; the  silence 
and  thick  shade  of  a forest  fills  the  soul  with 
religious  awe ; and  persons,  distinguished  by 
justice  and  piety,  easily  persuade  themselves 
and  others,  that,  as  the  beloved  favourites  of 
heaven,  they  are  frequently  honoured  with  holy 
inspirations,  and  sometimes  indulged  with  the 
visible  presence  and  happy  intercourse  of  their 
Divine  protectors.16  Not  only  the  religion  but 
the  ancient  language  and  manners  of  Greece, 
sufficiently  attest  the  existence  of  this  exces- 
sive sensibility,  which,  in  those  early  times, 
gave  an  easy  victory  to  the  indulgent  powers 
of  fancy,  over  the  severe  dictates  of  reason. 

The  nature,  the  characters,  and  the  occupa- 
tions of  the  gods,  were  suggested  by  the  lively 
feelings  of  an  ardent,  rather  than  by  the  regu- 
lar invention  of  a cultivated,  mind.  These 
celestial  beings  were  subject  to  the  blind  pas- 
sions which  govern  unhappy  mortals.  Their 
wants,  as  well  as  their  desires,  were  similar  to 
to  those  of  men.  They  required  not  the  gross 
nourishment  of  meat  and  wine,  but  they  had 
occasion  to  repair  the  waste  of  their  ethereal 
bodies  by  nectar  and  ambrosia ; and  they  de- 
lighted in  the  steam  of  the  sacrifices,  which 
equally  gratified  their  senses  and  flattered  their 
vanity.19  The  refreshment  of  sleep  was  ne- 
cessary to  restore  their  exhausted  strength,29 
and  with  the  addition  of  a superior,  but  limited 
degree  of  power,  and  wisdom,  and  goodness, 
the  gods  of  the  heroic  ages  were  nothing  more 
than  immortal  men. 

What  was  wanting  in  the  dignity  and  per- 
fection, was  supplied  by  the  number  of  the 


vided,  influence  over  the  mind,  in  seasons  of  inextricable 
calamity. 

18  Pausan.  (in  Arcad.)  calls  them  z-suoi  xxt  o/xo TfXTre^ot, 
guests  and  companions  at  the  same  table.  Plutarch,  in  his 
Treatise  on  Music,  cites  as  authorities  Anticles  and  Istros, 
two  ancient  authors,  who  wrote  concerning  the  apparitions 
of  the  gods.  All  that  has  reached  the  present  times  re- 
specting this  curious  subject,  is  collected  in  a dissertation 
of  John  Gottlob  Nimptsch  (Leipsic,  1720,)  in  which  he 
treats  of  the  number  of  the  divinities  who  appeared  most 
commonly  to  men  ; of  the  form  under  which  they  appeared  ; 
the  usual  time,  and  general  causes,  of  their  appearing,  and 
the  ordinary  circumstances  accompanying  it.  See  also 
Memoires  de  l’Academie,  vol.  ix.  Mem.  sur  les  Mosurs 
des  Siecles  Heroiques. 

19  These  observations  naturally  result  from  Homer;  but 
the  doctrine  of  sacrifices,  as  expiations  for  crimes,  so 
universally  diffused  over  the  ancient  and  modern  world, 
would  perhaps  still  merit  the  examination  of  an  able,  di- 
vine. 

20  Mercury  says  to  Calypso,  he  would  not  have  fatigued 
himself  by  travelling  over  such  a length  of  sea  and  land, 
without  a very  powerful  reason.  Odyss. 


26 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


gods.1  Homer  only  describes  the  principal 
and  reigning  divinities  ; but  Hesiod,  who  gives 
the  genealogical  history  of  this  fanciful  hie- 
rarchy, makes  the  whole  number  amount  to 
thirty  thousand.  Among  these,  every  virtue 
had  its  protector,  every  quality  of  extensive 
power  in  human  life  had  its  patron,  and  every 
grove  and  mountain  and  river  its  favourite  in- 
habitants. Twelve  divinities2  of  superior  rank 
presided  over  the  active  principles  of  the  uni- 
verse, and  the  leading  virtues  of  the  mind  : 
but  even  these  distinguished  beings  were  sub- 
ject to  the  unrelenting  power  of  vengeance3 
and  the  fates,  “ who  pursue  the  crimes  of  men 
and  gods,  and  never  cease  from  their  wrath  till 
they  have  inflicted  just  punishment  on  the 
guilty  sons  of  earth  and  heaven.”4 

The  materials  which  fancy  had  created, 
poetry  formed  into  beauty,  and  policy  im- 
proved into  use.  The  creed  of  the  Greeks, 
thus  adorned  and  enlarged,  became  the  hap- 
piest antidote  against  the  furious  resentment, 
the  savage  cruelty,  and  the  fierce  spirit  of  sul- 
len independence,  which  usually  characterize 
the  manners  of  barbarians.5  Yet  these  dread- 
ful passions  sometimes  forced  their  way  through 
every  mound  which  wisdom  had  erected  in 
order  to  oppose  their  course.  Laws, sacred  and 
profane,  were  feeble  barriers  against  the  impe- 
tuosity of  their  rage.  The  black  vengeance 
of  the  heart  was  exerted  in  deeds  of  horror. 
The  death  of  an  enemy  could  not  satisfy  their 
inhuman  cruelty.  They  burned  with  desire  to 
drink  his  hated  blood,  to  devour  his  quivering 
limbs,  and  to  expose  his  mangled  remains  to 
indignities  equally  odious  and  abominable  in 
the  sight  of  gods  and  men.6  The  powerful 
influence  of  religion  was  directed  against  the 
wild  excesses  of  this  sanguinary  temper.  The 
brave  Tydeus  lost  for  ever  the  protection  of  his 
adored  Minerva  by  a single  act  of  savage  fero- 
city. Humanity  was  inculcated  by  every  pre- 
cept of  reason,  and  enforced  by  the  strongest 
motives  of  hope  and  fear.  It  was  a firm 
article  of  belief,  that  hands  stained  with  blood, 
even  in  the  exercise  of  honourable  war,  were 
unworthy,  till  purified  by  lustration,  to  be  em- 
ployed in  the  most  ordinary  functions  of  sacred 
worship.7 

It  would  require  a volume  completely  to 
illustrate  the  salutary  effects  of  this  ancient 
and  venerable  superstition,  which  was  distin- 
quished  above  most  other  false  religions,  by 
the  uncommon  merit  of  doing  much  good, 
without  seemingly  occasioning  any  consider- 
able harm  to  society.  The  Grecian  tenets, 


1 Fragilis  et  laboriosa,  mortalilas  in  partes  ista  digessit, 
infirmitatus  sure  memor,  ut  portionibus  quisquis  coleret, 
quo  maxime  indigeret.  Plin.  ii.  7. 

2 The  Roman  religion  was  mere  plagiarism,  so  that  En- 
nius might  well  translate  two  lines  of  an  ancient  Greek 
poet,  which  includes  the  names  of  the  principal  divinities 
of  Greece  and  Italy  : 

Juno,  Vesta,  Minerva,  Ceres,  Diana,  Venus,  Mars, 
Mercurius,  Jovi,  Neptunus,  Vulcanus,  Apollo. 

Ennius  apud  Apuleium. 

3 4 Hesiod.  Theog. 

5 Impiger,  iracundus,  inexorabilis,  acer, 

Negans  jura  sibi  facta,  nihil  non  arrogans  armis — 

Horat. 

will  be  found  the  general  character  of  all  barbarous  nations. 

6 See  Iliad,  iv.  ver.  35.  Ibid.  xxii.  ver.  347.  Ibid.  xxiv. 

vei.  212  7 Homer,  passim. 


[Chap. 

while  they  inculcated  profound  respect  to  the 
gods,  tended  not  to  break  the  spirit,  or  to  re- 
press the  courage,  of  theu  warlike  votaries. 
The  ancient  heroes  addressed  their  heavenly 
protectors  in  an  erect  posture,  with  the  un- 
feigned sincerity  of  manly  freedom.  They 
expected  to  avert  the  calamities  threatened  by 
the  anger  of  their  divinities,  not  by  inflicting 
on  themselves  such  tortures  as  could  be  accep- 
table only  to  the  mean  resentment  of  weak  a?id 
wicked  beings,  but  by  repairing  the  wrongs 
which  they  had  committed  against  their  fellow- 
citizens,  or  compensating,  by  new  attentions, 
for  the  neglect  shown  to  the  ceremonies  of 
their  national  worship.  In  their  estimation,  the 
doing  of  injuries  to  men,  and  the  omitting  of 
prayer  to  the  gods,  were  the  principal  causes  of 
the  divine  displeasure  ; the  incurring  of  which, 
being  justly  considered  as  infinitely  greater 
than  all  other  misfortunes,  they  were  so^.citous 
to  avert  it,  not  only  by  an  exact  performance 
of  external  rites,  but  by  a diligent  practice  of 
moral  duties.  The  dangerous  power  of  oracles, 
the  abused  privileges  of  asylums,  the  wild  rap- 
tures of  prophetic  enthusiasm,  the  abominable 
ceremonies  of  the  Bacchanalia,  and  the  horrid 
practice  of  human  sacrifice,  circumstances 
which  cover  with  deserved  infamy  the  later 
periods  of  paganism,  were  all  unknown  to  the' 
good  sense  and  purity  of  the  heroic  ages ; nor 
is  there  to  be  discovered  the  smallest  vestige 
of  any  of  these  wild  or  wicked  inventions 
either  in  the  writings  of  Homer,  or  of  his  con- 
temporary Hesiod. 

The  amiable  simplicity  of  their  religious  sys- 
tem was  communicated  to  the  civil  and  military 
institutions  of  the  Greeks,  to  the  laws  of  na- 
tions as  well  as  to  the  regulations  of  internal 
policy,  and  to  the  various  duties  of  domestic  as 
well  as  of  social  life.  The  sentiments  of  na- 
tural reason,  supported  by  the  supposed  sanc- 
tion of  Divine  authority,  generally  directed  the 
conduct  of  men  in  the  wide  variety  of  these 
complicated  relations  ; and  from  one  great  and 
luminous  principle,  deeply  impressed  on  the 
mind,  there  resulted  a uniform  system  of  unaf- 
fected propriety  of  conduct,  the  contemplation 
of  which  will  always  be  agreeable  to  every 
taste  that  is  not  perverted  by  the  false  delicacy 
of  artificial  manners,  or  the  illiberal  prejudices 
of  national  vanity.  In  order  to  give  the  clearer 
explanation  of  the  several  parts  of  this  beauti- 
ful system,  we  shall  examine  the  political,  the 
civil,  and  the  domestic  condition  of  the  Greeks; 
that  is,  the  relation  of  the  governors  to  the 
governed,  and  of  the  governed  to  one  another, 
whether  considered  as  subjects  of  the  same 
state,  or  as  branches  of  the  same  family.  We 
shall  combine  the  effect  of  these  relations  with 
that  of  the  ordinary  occupations  and  favourite 
amusements  of  this  celebrated  people,  and 
from  the  whole  endeavour  to  deduce  the  gene- 
ral estimate  of  their  virtues  and  defects,  of 
their  happiness  and  misery. 

The  common  observation,  that  power  fol- 
lows property,  though  not  altogether  correct,8 


8 The  same  property  possessed  by  one,  or  by  a few,  con- 
fers much  greater  political  consideration  and  influence,  than 
it  would  confer  if  diffused  among  the  multitude. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


27 


II] 

affords  perhaps  the  best  succedaneum  to  written 
laws,  for  determining  the  real  strength  and  in- 
fluence of  the  different  members  of  society. 
If  we  examine  by  this  rule  the  policies  of  the 
heroic  ages,  we  shall  find  that  they  deserve  the 
title  of  republics,  rather  than  that  of  monar- 
chies. When  a warlike  tribe  sallied  from  its 
woods  and  mountains,  to  take  possession  of  a 
more  fertile  territory,  the  soldiers  fought  and 
conquered,  not  for  their  leaders,  but  for  them- 
selves.9 The  land  acquired  by  their  united 
valour  was  considered  as  a common  property. 
It  was  cultivated  by  the  joint  labour  and  assi- 
duity of  all  the  members  of  the  tribe,  who  as- 
sembled at  a public  table,  celebrated  together 
their  religious  rites,  and,  at  the  end  of  harvest, 
received  their  due  shares  of  the  annual  produce 
of  the  ground,  for  the  maintenance  of  their  re- 
spective families.19  Superior  opulence  gave  not 
to  one  a title  to  despise  another,  nor  was  there 
any  distinction  known  among  them,  but  what 
was  occasioned  by  the  difference  of  personal 
merit  and  abilities.  This  difference,  however, 
had  naturally  raised  a chief  or  leader  to  the  head 
of  every  society ; the  frequent  necessity  of  em- 
ploying his  valour,  or  his  wisdom,  rendered 
his  merit  more  conspicuous  and  more  useful ; 
and  his  superior  usefulness  was  rewarded,  by 
the  gratitude  of  his  tribe,  with  a valuable  por- 
tion of  ground,* 11  separated  from  the  common 
property.  This  was  cultivated,  not  by  the 
hands  of  his  martial  followers,  who  laboured 
only  for  the  community,  but  by  the  captives 
taken  in  war,  of  whom  a considerable  number 
were  always  bestowed  on  the  general.12  Being 
accustomed  to  command  in  the  field,  and  to 
direct  the  measures,  as  well  as  to  decide  the 
quarrels,  of  his  associates,  he  naturally  became 
the  judge  of  their  civil  differences;  and  as  the 
peculiar  favour  of  the  gods  always  attended  on 
superior  virtue,  he  was  also  invested  with  the 
honourable  office  of  presiding  in  their  religious 
solemnities.  These  important  functions  of 
priest,  judge,  and  general,  which  had  naturally 
been  conferred  on  the  best  and  bravest  charac- 
ter of  each  particular  tribe,  were  upon  the  union 
of  several  tribes  into  one  state  or  nation,  con- 
ferred on  the  best  and  bravest  of  all  the  differ- 
ent leaders.  Before  the  various  states  of  Greece 
had  united  in  a general  confederacy,  the  re- 
sources derived  from  the  domains  appropriated 
to  the  prince  (which,  unless  there  was  some 
particular  reason  to  the  contrary,  were  trans- 
mitted to  his  descendants,)  had  enabled  the 
several  kings  and  leaders  to  extend  their  influ- 
ence and  authority.  Their  comparative  power 
and  splendour  did  not  entirely  arise  from  the 
merit  of  personal  abilities,  but  was  determined 
in  part  by  the  extent  and  value  of  their  posses- 
sions : and  Agamemnon  was  appointed  to  the 
command  of  combined  Greece,  as  much  on  ac- 

9 The  Odyssey  furnishes  innumerable  proofs  of  the  limited 
power  of  kings.  Ulysses,  on  most  occasions,  puts  himself 
on  an  equal  footing  with  his  followers.  It  is  commonly 
decided  by  lot,  whether  he  shall  be  one  of  those  who  under- 
take any  adventure  attended  with  fatigue  and  danger. 
Odyss.  passim. 

10  Isocrat.  in  Archidam. 

11  Iliad,  1.  xii.  ver.  310. 

12  In  the  description  of  the  shield  of  Achilles,  Homer 
clearly  distinguishes  the  domain  of  the  king  from  the  land 
of  the  community.  Iliad,  xviii.  ver.  542. 


count  of  his  superior  opulence,  as  of  his  many 
princely  qualities.13  But  whether  we  examine 
the  pre-eminence  that  Agamemnon  enjoyed 
over  the  other  princes  of  the  confederacy,  which 
is  fully  explained  in  the  Illiad,  or  the  authority 
with  which  each  prince  was  invested  in  his 
own  dominions,  which  is  clearly  illustrated  in 
the  Odyssey,  or  the  influence  of  a warlike  chief 
over  the  several  members  of  his  tribe,  which 
we  have  already  endeavoured  to  delineate,  we 
shall  every  where  discover  the  limited  power 
of  kings,  and  the  mild  moderation  of  mixed 
government.  As  in  the  general  confederacy, 
the  councils14  of  princes  controlled  the  resolves 
of  the  monarch,  and  the  voice  of  the  assembly15 
was  superior  to  that  of  the  council ; so  in  each 
particular  kingdom,  the  decisions  of  the  senate 
prevailed  over  the  will  of  the  prince,  and  the 
acknowledged  majesty  of  the  people16  governed 
the  decisions  of  the  senate.17  If  we  descend 
still  lower,  we  shall  find  the  same  distribution 
of  power  in  every  particular  village, ^ which 
afforded  a picture,  in  miniature,  of  a kingdom, 
while  a kingdom  itself  afforded  a similar  pic- 
ture of  the  whole  confederacy. 

The  same  simplicity  which  regulated  the 
political  system,  maintained  the  civil  rights  of 
the  Greeks.  As  the  price  of  submitting  to  the 
restraints  of  society,  a man  was  secure4  in  the 
enjoyment  of  his  life  and  property  ;19  his  move- 
ables were  equally  divided,  at  his  death,  among 
his  descendants ; and  the  unnatural  right  of 
primogeniture,  which,  in  order  to  enrich  the 
eldest  son,  reduces  the  rest  of  the  family  to 
want  and  misery,  was  altogether  unknown  to 
the  equal  spirit  of  the  Grecian  institutions.29 
Causes  respecting  property  were  decided  by 
the  first  magistrate,  or  by  judges  of  delegated 
authority.  The  prosecution  of  murderers  be- 
longed to  the  relations  of  the  deceased;  they 
might  accept  a compensation  in  money  for  the 
loss  which  the  family  had  sustained  ;21  but  if 
this  was  not  tendered  them  by  the  criminal,  or 
if  their  resentment  was  too  violent  to  admit  of 
any  such  composition,  they  were  entitled  to  the 
assistance  of  all  the  members  of  their  tribe,  who 
either  punished  the  murderer  by  death,  or  com- 
pelled him  to  leave  the  society.22  These  usages, 
doubtless,  prove  the  ideas  of  the  Greeks,  con- 
cerning criminal  jurisdiction,  to  have  been  very 


13  Thucydid.  1.  i. 

14  In  matters  of  importance,  Agamemnon  is  generally 
determined  by  the  council  of  chiefs,  many  of  whom,  on 
various  occasions,  treat  him  with  little  respect. 

15  It  is  referred  to  the  general  assembly,  whether  it  would 
he  better  to  return  to  Greece,  or  to  prosecute  the  siege  of 
Troy.  Iliad,  ii.  ver.  110.  See  also  Aristot.  Ethic.  1.  iii.  c.  5. 

16  Several  of  the  nobles  of  Ithaca  even  aspired  to  the 
crown.  Odyss.  21. 

17  Tn  the  Odyssey,  Telemachus  threatens  to  appeal  to 
the  public  assembly,  of  the  injustice  of  the  suitors,  among 
whom  were  the  principal  nobles  of  Tthaca. 

18  Plutarch  in  Theseo.  Odyss.  ibid. 

19  Iliad,  xii.  Pind.  Pyth.  Ode  iv.  ^ 

20  Odyss.  xiv.  If  there  were  no  children,  the  nearest  re- 
lations, by  the  father’s  side,  divided  the  moveable  property: 
ciTrocpQtfisvov  S's  Six  y.tv\<tiv  Sutiovtoii  x^emtrTeci.  Hesiod 
Theogon.  The  same  observation  is  made  by  Homer,  Iliad, 
v.;  but  there  is  no  mention  of  succession  to  land  or  movea- 
ble property. 

21  Iliad,  ix.  Ajax  blames  the  obstinacy  of  Achilles,  who 
refuses  such  compensation  for  an  affront,  as  a man  some- 
times accepted  for  the  murder  of  a son  or  a brother. 

22  There  are  examples  of  this  in  the  14th,  15th,  and  23d 
Iliad. 


28 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


rude  and  imperfect : but  this  disadvantage  was 
in  some  measure  compensated  by  their  igno- 
rance of  those  legal  cruelties,  which  in  civilized 
nations  are  too  frequently  exercised,  under  the 
specious  pretence  of  justice.  “ In  later  times,” 
says  Thucydides,  “ punishments  became  more 
severe,  but  crimes  were  not,  on  this  account, 
less  frequent.”  The  powerful  or  wealthy  of- 
fender (he  might  have  added)  frequently  eluded 
the  vengeance  of  those  seyere  laws ; whereas 
in  the  heroic  ages,  there  was  not  any  respect 
of  persons,  princes  themselves  being  subject  to 
the  same  moderate  penalties,1  which  were  just- 
ly inflicted  on  their  offending  subjects. 

The  perfection  of  civil  and  political  institu- 
tions, which  was  produced  in  Greece  by  the 
influence  of  religion,  is  found  in  most  countries 
to  be  proportional  to  their  improvements  in  arts, 
and  their  attainments  in  knowledge  ; while  the 
happy  effects  of  domestic  union  are  frequently 
most  numerous  and  most  considerable  among 
the  rudest  and  least  cultivated  nations.  The 
reciprocal  duties  of  the  governor  and  governed, 
as  well  as  the  mutual  obligations  of  subjects, 
are  gradually  unfolded  and  enlarged  by  the 
progressive  ideas  of  utility ; but  the  tender  con- 
nections of  husband  and  wife,  of  father  and  son, 
of  brothers  and  kinsmen,  excite  without  reflec- 
tion, the  warmest  feelings  of  the  heart,  and  at 
once  inspire  the  affectionate  sentiments  of  love 
and  friendship,  of  kindness  and  gratitude.  The 
dictates  of  nature  alone  sufficiently  maintain 
the  duties  which  correspond  to  the  several  re- 
lations of  blood ; her  voice  is  strong  and  posi- 
tive, in  asserting  their  obligation  ; and  there  is 
greater  danger  that  these  sacred  ties  should  be 
weakened,  or  perverted,  by  the  artificial  refine- 
ments of  polished  life,  than  that  their  influence 
should  continue  altogether  unknown,  or  be 
feebly  felt,  in  the  early  periods  of  society. 

Agreeably  to  these  observations,  we  find  in  the 
history  of  the  heroic  ages,  the  most  interesting 
pictures  of  conjugal  love,  of  parental  affection, 
and  of  filial  duty.  These  sentiments,  suggested 
by  nature,  and  confirmed  by  reason,  were  still 
farther  strengthened  by  the  precepts  of  religion ; 
and  their  force,  thus  augmented,  became  so 
strong  and  irresistible,  that  it  can  scarcely  be 
conceived  by  men,  among  whom  fashion,  and 
vanity,  and  interest,  have  usurped  the  place  of 
more  generous  and  manly  principles. 

The  comforts  of  a family  were  anciently  con- 
sidered as  equal  to  the  benefits  derived  from 
social  union.  To  be  destitute  of  the  one,  was 
deemed  no  less  miserable  than  to  be  deprived 
of  the  other.  And  the  total  baseness  of  a man’s 
character  was  expressed  by  saying,  that  he  de- 
served not  to  enjoy  the  rights  of  a citizen,  the 
protection  of  a subject,  or  the  happiness  of  do- 
mestic life.2 

Marriage  was  a necessary  step  in  order  to  at- 
tain this  happiness,  and  the  institution  of  mar- 
riage was  ascribed  by  remote  tradition  to  the 


1 Thus  Midon,  the  brother  of  Ajax,  was  obliged  to  fly  to 
Phylace,  II.  xv.  Patroclus,  for  a similar  offence,  took 
refuge  with  the  father  of  Achilles,  II.  23.  Pausanias  (in 
Eliac.)  gives  examples  of  the  same  kind  in  two  kings  of  the 
AEtolians ; and  these  facts  are  agreeable  to  the  nature  of  the 
kingly  office  in  the  heroic  ages,  as  described  by  Dionysius 
of  Halicarnassus,  1.  ii.  Hist.  Rom. 

2 otSi/uierroj  e»vs<rTK>s  cm  cxciva;.  Iliad,  pGSsim. 


[Chaf. 

bounty  of  the  gods.  The  Greeks  of  the  heroic 
ages,  among  whom  the  rights  of  weakness  and 
beauty  were  as  much  respected  as  they  after- 
wards were  despised  by  their  degenerate  de- 
scendants, celebrated  the  conjugal  union  with 
all  the  pomp  of  religious  festivity.  The  joyous 
band,  carrying  the  nuptial  torches,  marched  in 
pomp  through  the  city,  to  the  sound  of  the 
hymeneal  song;3  the  lustral  waters  were  drawn 
from  the  sacred  fountain  Calliroe,  and  many 
revered  ceremonies  rendered  the  connection 
of  husband  and  wife  equally  respectable  and 
binding.4 

Adultery  was  considered  as  a crime  of  the 
blackest  dye,  and  is  always  mentioned  with  the 
same  horror  as  murder.  Persons  guilty  of  these 
atrocious  enormities  purchased  t impunity,5  and 
more  frequently  escaped  death,  by  voluntary 
banishment;  but  in  many  cases  they  were 
punished  by  the  united  vengeance  of  the  tribe 
which  had  received  the  injury.  Second  nuptials 
were  not  absolutely  forbidden ; but  so  strong  and 
sacred  was  the  matrimonial  tie,  that  even  the 
death  of  one  of  the  parties  was  scarcely  thought 
sufficient  to  dissolve  it ; and  the  survivor,  by 
entering  into  a new  connection,  suffered  a 
diminution  of  fame,  and  submitted  to  a con- 
siderable degradation  of  character.6 

Two  circumstances  chiefly  have  rendered  it 
difficult  to  explain  the  rank  and  condition  of 
women  in  the  heroic  ages.  The  Greek  word 
denoting  a wife,  is  borrowed  from  a quality 
which  equally  applies  to  a concubine,  and  the 
same  term  is  used  indifferently  to  express  both. 
But  the  women  who  in  ancient  Greece  submit- 
ted to  the  infamy  of  prostitution,  were  gener- 
ally captives  taken  in  war,  who  were  reduced 
by  the  cruel  right  of  arms  to  the  miserable  con- 
dition of  servitude.  Hence  it  has  been  errone- 
ously inferred,  that  in  ancient  Greece,  wives 
as  well  as  concubines  were  the  slaves  of  their 
husbands.  This  mistaken  notion,  it  has  been 
attempted  to  confirm,  not  only  by  insisting  on 
the  humiliating  condition  of  the  fair  sex  in  the 
later  ages  of  Greece,  but  by  expressly  asserting, 
that,  in  ancient  times,  they  were  purchased  by 
their  husbands.7 *  But  this  is  to  support  one 
error  by  another.  Before  entering  into  the 
state  of  wedlock,  it  was  customary  for  a man 
to  make  a mutual  exchange  of  presents  with  his 
intended  father-in-law.  The  Greeks  had  par- 
ticular terms  to  express  the  present  which  he 
bestowed,  as  well  as  that  which  he  received.6 
The  former,  which  has  no  corresponding  term 
in  the  modern  languages,  is  translated  by  the 
more  general  word  “ price,”  which  has  given 
rise  to  the  false  notion  of  the  purchase  and 
servitude  of  women ; but  the  latter  which  may 
with  propriety  be  translated  “ dower,”9 10  was 
given  as  a provision  for  the  wife,  both  during 
marriage  and  after  its  dissolution,19  and  was 


3 Iliad,  I.  xxiii. 

4 Thucydides,  1.  ii.  Meursius  Ferine  Grnecae,  and  the  au 

thors  there  cited.  5 Odyss.  viii. 

6 Penelope  was  restrained  from  marrying  a second  hus 

band  : afJojusvijv,  juvkv  it-oo-joj,  Stfftoto  T£  II.  xv. 

7 Lord  Kaime’s  Sketches,  Thomas  sur  la  Condition  des 

Femmes,  &c. 

8E?,.».  9nfoi£. 

10  Odyss.  ii.  Telemachus  says,  that  if  Ms  mother  should 
be  sent  from  the  house,  he  would  be  obliged  to  return  hef 
dower  to  her  father  Icarius. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


29 


II.] 

sufficient  to  deliver  her  from  that  supposed 
state  of  dependence  on  the  husband,  which 
never  had  any  existence  but  in  the  imagination 
of  the  systematic  writers  of  the  present  age. 

In  the  modern  countries  of  Europe,  women 
are  generally  excluded  from  the  serious  occu- 
pations of  life,  but  admitted  to  an  equal  share 
in  its  gayest  amusements.  During  the  heroic 
ages,  they  were  not  absolutely  debarred  from 
the  former,  although  it  was  impossible  to  asso- 
ciate their  natural  delicacy  and  timidity  to  the 
warlike  labours  and  pleasures  which  formed 
the  principal  employments  of  their  husbands. 
The  intercourse  between  the  sexes,  therefore, 
was  less  frequent  and  general,  than  would  suit 
the  refined  softness  of  modern  manners. 

The  attention  of  women  was  chiefly  confined 
to  domestic  cares,  or  to  the  practice  of  such 
arts  as  required  neither  strength,  nor  courage, 
nor  wisdom,  but  only  the  patient  exertions  of 
mechanical  dexterity.11  Our  natural  respect 
for  the  honour  of  the  sex  is  offended  at  hear- 
ing them  as  much  extolled  for  their  skill  in  the 
labours  of  the  loom,  as  for  their  beauty  and 
virtue ; but  it  deserves  to  be  considered,  that 
weaving  and  embroidery  being,  like  all  other 
arts,  less  extensively  diffused  in  Greece  than 
in  improved  commercial  countries,  were  on  this 
account  more  highly  valued,  and  therefore  bet- 
ter adapted  to  confer  distinction  on  those  who 
excelled  in  them.  They  were  practised  by 
ladies  of  the  highest  rank,  and  even  by  queens, 
who  also  thought  it  an  honour  to  be  entrusted 
with  the  education  of  their  children,  till  they 
became  fit  for  the  society  of  their  fathers.12 
Besides  these  employments,  the  women  were 
permitted  to  join  in  the  celebration  of  religious 
rites  and  ceremonies,  and  many  of  them  were 
consecrated  to  the  service  of  particular  divini- 
ties.13 In  the  seasons  of  public  festivity,  they 
mixed  more  freely  than  on  ordinary  occasions 
in  the  society  of  the  other  sex.  This  was 
sometimes  attended  with  such  inconveniences 
as  might  naturally  be  expected  to  arise  in  con- 
sequence of  the  usual  restraints  imposed  on 
their  behaviour.  **  The  beautiful  Polyinela,” 
says  Homer,14  “dancing  in  the  chorus  of  Diana, 
was  embraced  by  Mercury ; but  she  had  no 
sooner  brought  forth  a son,  than  one  of  the 
principal  citizens  offered  her  his  hand.”  The 
institutions  of  the  heroic  ages  promoted,  with 
admirable  propriety,  the  modest  reserve  of 
women,  while  they  permitted  not  one  ex- 
cusable error  to  cover  an  amiable  character 
with  indelible  infamy.  The  crime  of  having 
too  tender  a heart  was  not  deemed  inexpiable; 
and,  as  the  consequences  of  female  weakness 
were  imputed  to  the  affectionate  ardour  of 
some  amorous  divinity,  they  were  so  far  from 
obscuring  the  charms  of  beauty,  that  they 
adorned  it  with  new  graces  and  more  con- 
spicuous splendour. 

The  simplicity  of  the  ancient  Greeks  was 
equally  remote  from  the  cruel  tyranny  of  sa- 


11 Homer,  passim. 

12  Thus,  Thetis  educated  Achil'es.  Hesiod  says  poeti- 
cally, that  in  the  age  of  silver,  the  children  continued, 
during  an  infancy  of  a hundred  years,  under  the  care  of 
their  mothers. 

13  Theano  was  priestess  of  Vulcan,  &c.  Iliad. 

14  Iliad,  xvi. 


vages,  which  condemns  women  to  servitude, 
and  the  interested  refinement  of  luxury  and 
vice,  which  regards  them  as  mere  instruments 
of  pleasure.  The  natural  equality  between 
the  sexes  suggested  by  the  voice  of  sentiment, 
asserted  by  the  dictates  of  reason,  and  confirm- 
ed by  the  precepts  of  religion,  produced  the 
most  delicate  affections  that  can  inspire  a sus- 
ceptible heart : hence  those  moving  scenes  so 
admirably  delineated  by  Homer,  which  retrace 
the  most  perfect  image  of  domestic  felicity ; 
hence  those  pleasing  pains,  those  anxious  soli- 
citudes of  tenderness  and  love,  which  frequent- 
ly degenerate  into  melancholy  presages  of  the 
loss  of  a union  to  which  nothing  was  wanting 
but  that  it  should  prove  immortal.15 

The  sentiments  of  parental  affection  were 
proportionably  strong  and  ardent  with  those 
of  conjugal  love.  The  mutual  tenderness  of 
the  husband  and  wife  was  communicated  to 
their  offspring ; while  the  father  viewed  in  his 
child  the  charms  of  its  mother,  and  the  mother 
perceived  in  it  the  manly  graces  of  its  father. 
Independently  of  the  delicacy  of  sentiments, 
there  are,  doubtless,  in  all  countries,  savage 
and  civilized,  innumerable  instances  of  paternal 
kindness,  which,  indeed,  is  the  most  simple  and 
natural  expansion  of  self-love.  But  in  the 
heroic  ages  alone,  we  find  sincere  and  complete 
returns  of  filial  duty.  In  the  lowest  state  of 
savage  life  men  are,  for  the  most  part,  little  ac- 
quainted with  this  respectful  affection : they 
fear  and  obey,  but  without  any  mixture  of  love, 
those  who  are  wiser  and  stronger  than  them- 
selves. When  they  become  wise  and  strong 
in  their  turn,  they  disregard  the  trembling  hand 
that  reared  their  tender  years,  or  if  any  faint 
emotions  of  gratitude  are  feebly  felt,  they  dis- 
cover them  in  the  preposterous  kindness  of  de- 
livering their  aged  parents  from  what  appears 
to  their  own  juvenile  impatience  the  wretched 
load  of  life.17  Among  nations,  on  the  other 
hand,  who  are  sunk  in  the  corruptions  incident 
to  excessive  luxury  and  refinement,  the  ties  of 
nature  are  perverted  or  effaced ; the  young 
despise  the  admonitions,  and  avoid  the  com- 
pany of  the  aged  ; and  the  duties,  as  well  as 
the  business  of  society,  are  degraded  into  a 
miserable  traffic  of  interest  or  pleasure.  But 
as  the  Greeks  had  emerged  from  the  melan- 
choly gloom  of  the  first  situation,  and  had  not 
yet  declined  into  the  foul  vapours  of  the 
second,  they  displayed  the  meridian  splendour 
of  the  domestic  virtues.17  The  reverence  of 
children  for  their  parents  approached  their  ve- 
neration for  the  gods.  The  most  violent  and 
impetuous  heroes  submitted,  without  reluc- 
tance, to  the  severest  dictates  of  paternal  au- 
thority. In  such  delicate  concerns  as  might 
seem  to  affect  themselves  alone,  they  relin- 
quished their  favourite  inclinations,  disavow- 
ed any  will  of  their  own,  and  committed  their 
dearest  concerns  to  the  experienced  wisdom 


15  See  the  interview  with  Hector  and  Andromache,  and 
other  examples.  Iliad,  ix.  and  Odyss.  vi. 

16  Voyage  du  Pere  Charlevoix.  Lafitan  Moeurs  des 
Sauvages. 

17  There  is,  perhaps,  no  other  language  that  can  expfess, 
without  a circumlocution,  what  the  Greeks  meant  by 
SfSB-r «,  the  obligations  of  children  to  repay  the  mainte- 
nance, the  education,  and  the  tender  cares  of  their  parents. 


30 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


and  known  goodness  of  their  fathers.  The 
amiable  expressions  of  filial  respect  were  extend- 
ed into  a more  general  sentiment  of  regard  for 
the  infirm  and  aged.  Even  among  brothers  who 
were  nearly  of  the  same  age,  the  younger  was 
obliged  to  yield  in  every  instance  to  the  elder ; 
and  it  was  an  acknowledged  principle  of  reli- 
gion, that  the  Furies  defended,  by  their  stern 
authority,  the  sacred  rights  of  superior  years.1 

The  occupations  of  the  ancient  Greeks, 
whether  of  war  or  peace,  were,  for  the  most 
part,  directed  by  the  same  sacred  influence 
which  governed  their  behaviour  in  the  various 
relations  of  domestic  and  social  life.  War  was 
their  principal  employment ; and  in  the  field 
they  both  displayed  their  noblest  qualities,  and 
discovered  the  greatest  defects  of  their  charac- 
ter. They  were  unacquainted  with  those  dis- 
ciplined evolutions  which  give  harmony  and 
concert  to  numerous  bodies  of  men,  and  enable 
whole  armies  to  move  with  the  activity  and 
address  of  single  combatants.  What  was 
wanting  in  skill  they  supplied  by  courage. 
They  marched  to  the  field  in  a deep  phalanx, 
rushed  impetuously  to  the  attack,  and  bravely 
closed  with  their  enemies.  Each  warrior  was 
firmly  buckled  with  his  antagonist,  and  com- 
pelled by  necessity  to  the  same  exertions  of 
valour,  as  if  the  fortune  of  the  day  had  de- 
pended upon  his  single  arm.  Their  principal 
weapon  was  the  spear,  resembling  the  Roman 
pilum,  which,  thrown  by  the  nervous  and  well- 
directed  vigour  of  a steady  hand,  often  pene- 
trated the  firmest  shields  and  bucklers.  When 
they  missed  their  aim,  or  when  the  stroke 
proved  ineffectual  through  want  of  force,  they 
drew  their  swords,  and,  summoning  their  ut- 
most resolution,  darted  impetuously  on  the  foe. 
This  mode  of  war  was  common  to  the  soldiers 
and  generals,  the  latter  being  as  much  distin- 
guished in  the  day  of  action  by  their  strength 
and  courage,  as  by  their  skill  and  conduct. 
The  Greeks  had  bows,  and  slings,  and  darts, 
intended  for  the  practice  of  distant  hostility  ; 
but  the  use  of  these  weapons,  which  were 
much  employed  in  the  military  pastimes  of  the 
heroic  ages,  was  confined  in  the  field  to  war- 
riors of  inferior  renown.2  Their  defensive 
armour  was  remarkably  complete : a bright 
helmet,  adorned  with  plumes,  covered  the  head 
and  face,  a firm  corslet  defended  the  breast, 
greaves  of  brass  descended  to  the  feet,  and  an 
ample  shield  loosely  attached  to  the  shoulders 
turned  in  all  directions,  and  opposed  its  firm 
resistance  to  every  hostile  assault. 

The  close  compact  combats  of  the  Greeks 
were  fitted  to  excite  the  most  furious  passions 
of  the  heart,  and  to  embitter  national  animosity 
by  personal  hatred  and  revenge.  A battle 
consisted  of  so  many  duels,  which  exasperated 
to  the  utmost  the  hostility  of  the  contending 
parties;  each  soldier  knew  the  antagonist  from 
whom  he  had  received,  or  on  whom  he  had  in- 
flicted the  severest  injuries.  They  fought  with 
all  the  keenness  of  resentment,  and  often  sul- 
lied the  honours  of  victory  by  those  licentious 
cruelties  which  are  too  natural  to  men  in  the 


1 Ileso-SuTffOjf  igivvvs;  anv  itovt* i,  Homer,  passim. 

2 Teucer  is  more  than  once  upbraided  in  the  Iliad  as 
vain  archer. 


[Chap, 

giddy  moment  of  triumph  over  a detested  ad- 
versary. 

It  is  partly  to  this  unfortunate  circumstance, 
and  partly  to  the  ancient  mode  of  appropriating 
the  warlike  plunder  to  those  who  first  acquired, 
it,  that  we  are  to  ascribe  the  shocking  enormi- 
ties which  were  sometimes  committed  by  the 
bravest  and  most  generous  of  the  Grecian  chiefs. 

That  the  severities  exercised  towards  the 
conquered  proceeded  not  from  the  barbarism 
of  the  age,  and  an  ignorance  of  the  rights  of 
humanity,  is  plain  from  the  observances  deem- 
ed necessary,  in  order  to  obtain  the  favour  of 
the  gods,  in  carrying  on  any  military  expedi- 
tion, or  in  enjoying  the  fruits  of  victory. 
These  observances,  which  were  confirmed  by 
the  laws  of  nations  among  the  Greeks,  were 
practised  before  the  commencement  of  hostili- 
ties, during  their  continuance,  and  after  their 
conclusion.  Before  any  war  could  be  lawfully 
undertaken,  it  was  necessary  to  despatch  am- 
bassadors, who  might  explain  the  injury  that 
had  been  done,  demand  immediate  and  com- 
plete satisfaction,  and  if  this  was  refused,  de- 
nounce in  form  the  resolution  of  their  commu- 
nity, to  prosecute  its  claim  by  force  of  arms.3 
After  they  had  begun  to  execute  their  fatal 
purpose,  the  characters  of  heralds,  those  sacred 
ministers  of  kings,  were  equally  respected  by 
friends  and  foes.  They  travelled  in  safety 
through  the  midst  of  embattled  hosts,  pro- 
claimed to  the  silent  warriors  the  commissions 
with  which  they  were  intrusted,  or  demanded 
a truce  for  burying  the  dead,  which  could  not 
be  refused  without  the  most  enormous  im- 
piety.4 The  use  of  poisoned  weapons5  was 
forbidden,  under  pain  of  the  divine  displea- 
sure. It  was  agreeable  to  the  will  of  the  gods 
that  the  life  should  be  spared,  when  a sufficient 
ransom  was  promised.6  And  after  a treaty  of 
peace  was  concluded  between  hostile  nations, 
without  any  apparent  ratification  but  the  ho- 
nour of  the  contracting  parties,  the  perfidious 
wretches  who  betrayed  the  sanctity  of  their 
engagements,  were  devoted,  amidst  solemn  sa- 
crifices and  libations,  to  the  fury  of  the  terri- 
ble goddesses.7 

From  the  arts  of  peace,  the  Greeks  had 
acquired  the  necessaries,  and  procured  the 
accommodations,  but  had  not  obtained  the 
luxuries  of  life.  Pasturage  and  agriculture 
supplied  them  with  the  most  indispensable 
articles  of  food,  and  with  the  principal  mate- 
rials of  clothing.  The  implements  of  hus- 
bandry were  extremely  imperfect ; the  plough 
itself,  the  most  useful  of  them  all,  being  com- 
posed entirely  of  wood,8  which  arose  rather 
from  the  scarcity  of  iron,  than  from  any  defect 
of  mechanical  ingenuity.9  They  employed,  in 
the  time  of  Hesiod,  the  invention  of  shears, 
for  depriving  the  sheep  of  their  wool,  having 
formerly  waited  the  season  of  its  annual  sepa- 
ration by  nature.10  Barley  was  the  principal 

3  See  chap.  i.  p.  43.  4 Homer,  passim. 

5 Iilus  refused  Ulysses  poisoned  arrows,  since  he  revered 
the  immortal  gods, 

Etsi  vtueri^ero  Bsev;  m tv  lovraj.  Odyss. 

6 Iliad,  i.  Ibid.  vi.  24.  7 Iliad,  iii. 

8 Hesiod,  Oper.  et  Dies.  9 Homer,  passim. 

10  Hesiod  ibid 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


31 


fl] 

produce  of  their  fields,  and  furnished  the  or- 
dinary food  both  of  men  and  of  horses.  The 
invention  of  mills  was  unknown,  and  the  grain 
underwent  several. tedious  operations,  in  order 
to  facilitate  the  bruising  of  it  between  two 
large  stones  with  the  hand.11  Although  the 
Greeks  cultivated  the  olive,  they  were  unac- 
quainted with  the  benefit  derived  from  the 
fruit  of  this  plant,  so  well  adapted  to  cheer  the 
melancholy  gloom  of  night.?2  The  Grecian 
soil  was  naturally  favourable  to  the  grape;  but 
the  long  and  operose  process  by  which  the 
juice  of  it  was  separated  and  prepared,  ren- 
dered wine  scarce  and  dear.13 

Of  the  mechanic  arts,  weaving  was  the  best 
understood;  yet  this,  as  well  as  all  the  other 
professions  which  are  qualified  by  the  appel- 
lation of  sedentary,  were  practised  by  the 
Greeks  standing  upright14  which  seems  to  indi- 
cate an  imperfect  state  of  improvement.  The* 
hatchet,  wimble,  plane,  and  level,  are  the  tools 
mentioned  by  Homer,  who  appears  to  have 
been  unacquainted  with  the  saw,  the  square, 
and  the  compass.15  The  art  of  cutting  marble, 
which  afterwards  furnished  Grecian  ingenuity 
with  the  materials  of  those  inimitable  produc- 
tions which  are  still  the  wonder  of  the  world, 
was  as  yet  undiscovered ; nor  did  the  polished 
lustre  of  this  valuable  stone  adorn  the  habita- 
tions of  the  Greeks.16 

Homer  mentions  not  the  orders  of  architect- 
ure, which  were  invented  in  a later  age ; and 
pillars  are  the  only  ornaments  assigned  to  the 
edifices  which  he  describes.  The  houses  of  the 
great  were  surrounded  by  a wall,  that  consisted 
of  two  floors:  the  lower  of  which  was  distri- 
buted into  four  apartments,  which  we  have 
translated  by  the  names  of  hall,1 1 portico,  anti- 
chamber, and  bedchamber,  which  express  the 
same  relative  situation,  rather  than  any  other 
point  of  resemblance.  The  roofs  were  flat,  and 
the  doors  opened  towards  the  surrounding 
wall,  while  the  gates  of  the  wall  itself  opened 
towards  the  road  or  street.16  The  invention 
of  enamelling  metals  had  been  cultivated  with 
singular  success  : and  though  painting,  properly 
so  called,  was  rude  and  unformed  during  the 
age  of  Homer,  the  genius  of  the  divine  poet  has 
described  the  rudiments  of  his  kindred  art  with 
such  graces  as  would  adorn16  its  most  refined 


11  Plin.  1.  xviii.  c.  xiv. 

12  The  Greeks  had  not  discovered  any  other  contrivance 
for  that  purpose,  than  the  burning  of  great  fires  of  wood. 
The  torches  mentoned  by  Homer  consisted  of  branches  of 
any  resinous  tree,  split  at  the  end,  and  lighted  at  the  fire. 
Odvss.  1.  vi.  ver.  307.  1.  xviii.  ver.  306.  et  ver.  309. 

13  Odvss.  1.  vi i.  ver.  122. 

14  Kustnch.  in  Iliad,  i.  ver.  31. 

lfi  Odvss.  1.  v.  ver.  234,  &c. 

16  In  the  palace  of  Alcinous,  which  shone  with  gold, 
pi  ver,  brass,  and  amber,  there  is  no  mention  of  marble. 
Odvss.  I.  iy.  ver.  72. 

17  H r«g  «S  ouT-oj;  tpxo;  wepj  o vrvKct i,  /usrx  S's  to  spxi  ov 
cevXt),  fisrx  SI»,  xiSovrx,  « x-gofojttos,  xxi  SxKx/uo;.  Pollux 
Onoma«t. 

18  Odvss.  1.  i.  ver.  441. 

19  The  nobler  kinds  of  painting  are  all  illustrated  in  the 
shield  of  AchiHes;  and  each  picture  discovers  a wonderful 
degree  of  invention,  expression,  and  composition , Iliad, 
xviii.  Perrault.  and  Terrasson,  who  thought  it  impossible 
to  place  so  many  pictures  in  the  circumference  of  a shield, 
were  answered  bvBoivin,  who  supposed  a great  many  con- 
centric circles.  This  opinion  was  adopted  by  Pope,  who 
pretends  that  all  the  branches  of  painting,  even  aerial  per- 
spective, may  be  found  in  Homer’s  shield.  “ That  he  was 


state  of  perfection.  Music  was  much  practised 
among  the  early  Greeks.  It  was  not  of  the 
learned  kind,  and  therefore  the  better  adapted 
to  touch  the  heart.  The  effects  ascribed  to  it 
are  wonderful,  but  not  incredible,  because  the 
ancient  music  was  not  merely  an  agreeable  suc- 
cession eff  melodious,  unmeaning  sounds,  but 
an  imitation  and  a heightening  of  the  simple, 
natural,  and  pathetic  tones  and  cadences  of  a 
beautiful  and  expressive  language. 20 

In  the  heroic  ages  men  had  neither  leisure 
nor  inclination  to  attend  to  the  speculative  sci- 
ences. All  the  knowledge  that  they  possessed 
or  esteemed  tvas  of  the  practical  kind.  From 
arithmetic  they  learned  such  simple  calcula- 
tions as  suited  the  narrow  sphere  of  their  trans- 
actions. Astronomy  taught  them  to  observe 
the  constellations  most  necessary  to  direct  the 
adventurous  course  of  the  mariner  : but  their 
navigation  was  still  so  imperfect  that  they  sel- 
dom abandoned  the  coast;  and  the  only  stars 
mentioned  by  Homer  are  the  Great  and  Little 
Bear,  the  Pleiades,  the  Hyades,  Orion,  and  the 
Dog  star.  The  metaphysics,  ethics,  and  politics 
of  the  ancient  Greeks  have  been  explained 
under  the  article  of  religion,  from  which  they 
were  originally  derived,  and  with  which  they 
long  continued  to  be  inseparably  connected. 
The  main  objects  proposed  in  the  education  of 
the  young  warriors,  were,  that  they  should 
learn  to  excel  in  the  military  exercises  of  the 
age,  especially  those  of  throwing  the  lance  and 
of  driving  the  chariot,  and  to  command  the  at- 
tention of  the  senate,  or  assembly,  by  deliver- 
ing their  opinion  in  a perspicuous,  elegant,  and 
manly  style.21 

It  was  not  only  in  the  council  and  in  the  field 
that  these  superior  accomplishments  solicited 
and  obtained  their  well-merited  rewards.  Each 
community  presented,  in  time  of  peace,  the 
picture  of  a large  family.  The  Greeks  lived 
in  continual  society  with  their  equals,  enjoyed 
common  pleasures  and  amusements,  and  had 
daily  opportunities  of  displaying  their  useful 
talents  in  the  sight  of  their  fellow-citizens.  The 
frequent  disputes  between  individuals  occa- 
sioned litigations  and  trials,  which  furnished 
employment  for  the  eloquence  and  abilities  of 
men,  in  the  necessary  defence  of  their  friends. 
The  funeral  games,  and  those  celebrated  in 
commemoration  of  several  important  events, 
both  of  a civil  and  sacred  kind,  opened  a con- 
tinual source  of  entertainment.  There  the 


no  stranger  to  aeriel  perspective,  appears  from  his  expressly 
marking  the  distance  from  object  to  object,”  &c.  Rut  this 
observation  only  proves  that  Pope,  who  prnct'sed  painting, 
was  little  acquainted  with  the  theory  of  that  art;  since 
aerial  perspective  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  diminution  of 
objects  in  proportion  to  their  distance,  and  relates  entirely 
to  the  changing  and  weakening  of  colours,  according  to  the 
condition  of  the  medium  through  which  they  are  seen.  The 
obje«tions  of  Perrault  and  Terrasson,  and  the  concentric  cir- 
cles of  Roivin,  are  equally  frivolous.  The  shield  of  Homer 
contains,  in  fact,  but  ten  pictures.  The  enumeration  by 
the  particles  ntv  and  £e  fixes  the  number.  But  the  poet  not 
only  describes  these  ten  pictures  actually  represented  on  the 
shield,  hut  also  mentions  their  antecedents  and  consequents. 
This  is  the  chief  superiority  of  poetical  imitation  above 
painting,  that  it  can  describe,  in  a few  pages,  what  many 
galleries  of  pictures  could  not  represent.  But  of  this  more 
hereafter. 

20  Odyss.  iii.  ver.  267,  et  passim.  This  subject  will  be 
treated  fully  hereafter. 

21  re  ftjref*  tp, tv«»  jr§t(>cT>|g«  ri  igym. 


32 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


young  and  vigorous  contended  in  the  rapid 
race;  wielded  the  massy  caestus  or  ponderous 
quoit;  and  exerted  equal  efforts  of  strength 
and  skill  in  the  other  manly  exercises  which 
confirm  the  vigour  of  the  body,  and  the  forti- 
tude of  the  mind.  Nor  were  the  aged  and  in- 
firm allowed  to  languish  for  want  of  proper  ob- 
jects to  rouse  their  emulation,  to  flatter  their 
pride,  and  to  employ  their  remaining  activity. 
It  belonged  to  them  to  offer  their  wise  coun- 
sels, to  interpose  their  respected  authority,  and 
to  decide  the  quarrels,  as  well  as  to  determine 
the  merit,  of  the  young  candidates  for  fame. 
The  applause  and  rewards  bestowed  on  him 
whose  counsels  and  decisions  were  most  gene- 
rally approved,  consoled  the  weakness  of  his 
declining  years,  while  his  rivals,  though  disap- 
pointed for  the  present,  expected,  on  some  fu- 
ture occasion,  to  obtain  the  same  honourable 
marks  of  the  public  esteem.1 

After  this  general  review  of  the  Grecian  man- 
ners and  institutions,  should  we  endeavour  to 
estimate  their  value,  they  would  probably  rise 
in  our  esteem,  by  being  compared,  either  with 
the  rude  customs  of  savage  life,  or  with  the 
artificial  refinements  of  polished  society.  The 
Greeks  had  advanced  beyond  that  uniform  insi- 
pidityof  deportment, thatsullen  ferocity  of  man- 
ners, and  that  hardened  insensibility  of  heart, 
which  universally  characterise  the  savage  state. 
They  still  possessed,  however,  that  patient  in- 
trepidity, that  noble  spirit  of  independence, 
that  ardent  attachment  to  their  friends,  and 
that  generous  contempt  of  pain  and  danger  and 
death,  which  render  the  description  of  the  wild 
tribes  of  America  so  interesting  to  a philosophic 
mind.  Of  two  principal  enjoyments  of  life, 
study  and  conversation,  they  were  little  ac- 
quainted, indeed,  with  the  consolations  and 
pleasure  of  the  first,  the  want  of  which  was 
compensated  by  the  sincerity,  the  confidence, 
the  charms  of  the  second.  Their  social  affec- 
tions were  less  comprehensive  in  their  objects, 


[Chap 

but  more  powerful  in  their  effects,  than  those 
of  polished  nations.  A generous  chief  rushes 
to  certain  death,  to  revenge  the  cause  of  his 
friend;  yet  refuses  to  the  prayers  of  an  aged 
parent  the  melancholy  consolation  of  interring 
the  remains  of  his  favourite  son ; till  the  cor- 
responding image  of  his  own  father  strikes  his 
mind,  anl  at  once  melts  him  to  pity.2  The 
imaginary  wants  and  artificial  passions  which 
are  so  necessary  to  urge  the  hand  of  industry 
and  to  vary  the  pursuits  of  men,  in  improved 
commercial  societies,  were  supplied  to  the 
Greeks  by  that  excessive  sensibility,  which  in- 
terested them  so  deeply  in  the  affairs  of  their 
community,  their  tribe,  their  family,  and  their 
friends,  and  which  connected  them  by  the  feel- 
ings of  gratitude  even  with  the  inanimate  ob- 
jects of  nature.  As  they  were  not  acquainted 
with  the  same  diversity  of  employments,  so 
neither  were  they  fatigued  with  the  same  giddy 
round  of  dissipated  pleasures  which  augment 
the  splendid  misery  of  later  times.  Though 
ignorant  of  innumerable  arts  which  adorn  the 
present  age,  they  had  discovered  one  of  in- 
estimable value,  to  render  the  great  duties  of 
life  its  most  entertaining  amusement.  It  will 
not,  perhaps,  be  easy  to  point  out  a nation  who 
united  a more  complete  subordination  to  es- 
tablished authority  with  a higher  sense  of  per- 
sonal independence,  and  a more  respectful  re- 
gard to  the  dictates  of  religion  with  a more  ar- 
dent spirit  of  martial  enterprise.  The  generous 
equality  of  their  political  establishments,  and 
their  imagined  intercourse  wfith  the  gods,  con- 
spired to  raise  them  to  a certain  elevation  of 
character  which  will  be  for  ever  remembered 
and  admired.  This  character  was  rendered 
permanent,  in  Sparta,  by  the  famous  laws  com- 
monly ascribed  to  the  invention  of  Lycurgus. 
but  which,  as  will  appear  in  the  subsequent 
chapter,  were  almost  exact  copies  of  the  cus- 
toms and  institutions  that  universally  prevailed 
in  Greece  during  the  heroic  ages. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Distracted  State  of  Greece — The  Heracleidce  conduct  the  Dorians  into  Peloponnesus — Divide 
their  conquests  in  that  Peninsula — The  Eolic , Ionic , and  Doric  Migrations — Establishment 
of  Colonies  in  Thrace , Macedon , Africa,  and  Magna  Grcecia — Influence  of  the  Ionic  Colonies 
in.  Asia  on  the  Affairs  of  the  Mother  Country — The  Abolition  of  Monarchy  in  Greece — Mew 
Disorders  in  that  Country — Four  Institutions  which  tended  to  remove  them — The  Amphictyo- 
nic  Council — The  Oracle  of  Delphi — The  Olympic  Games — The  Spartan  Laics. 


REECE  triumphed  over  Troy,  but  it  was 
^ a melancholy  triumph.  The  calamities  of 
war  were  followed  by  disasters  at  sea,  by  dis- 
cord among  the  chiefs,  by  ruin  to  the  confede- 
racy; yet  these  evils  were  less  afflicting  than 
the  intestine  animosities  and  sedition  excited 
by  the  license  of  the  people,  and  fomented  by 
the  ambition  of  the  nobles  during  the  long  and 
unfortunate  absence  of  their  kings.  The  vic- 

1 Iliad,  xviii.  Ibid,  xxiii 


torious  Agamemnon  had  scarce  set  foot  on  his 
native  land,  wfflen  he  was  cut  off  by  an  adulte- 
rous spouse  and  a perfidious  assassin.3  His  son 
Orestes  found  protection  in  Athens  against  the 
resentment  of  an  usurper  In  the  eighth  year 
of  his  exile  he  returned  with  his  partisans,  and 
took  just  vengeance  on  the  abominable  Egys- 
theus  and  Clytemneslra.4  He  reigned  in  Ar- 

2 Iliad,  xxiv.  3 Odyss.  1.  i.  ver.  29. 

4 Odyss.  1.  iii.  ver.  196.  and  ver.  305,  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


33 


III.] 

gos,  but  with  far  less  glory  than  his  father;  nor 
did  that  kingdom  ever  thenceforth  assume  its 
ancient  pre-eminence. 

The  wanderings  and  woes  of  Ulysses  are  too 
well  known  to  be  described.5  His  patient  for- 
titude regained  the  kingdom  of  Ithaca,  but  not 
without  wading  through  the  blood  of  his  most 

„ . n nd  illustrious  subjects.6  If  his- 

From  A.  C.  1184.  , . , J , , ,, 

till  777  tory  mmutelY  rec01’dea  the 
domestic  feuds  which  pre- 
vailed in  other  states,  it  would  probably  exhibit 
a disgusting  picture  of  fraud  and  cruelty,  and  a 
continual  repetition  of  similar  crimes  and  cala- 
mities would  equally  fatigue  the  attention,  and 
offend  the  humanity,  of  the  modern  reader. 
But  though  it  would  be  neither  entertaining 
nor  useful  to  describe  the  particular  and  transi- 
tory consequences  of  these  disorders,  it  is  of 
importance  to  remark  their  general  and  lasting 
tendency  to  prolong  the  weakness  of  Greece ; 
whose  obscure  transactions,  during  the  four  fol- 
lowing centuries,  ill  correspond  with  the  splen- 
dour of  the  Trojan,  or  even  of  the  Argonautic 
expedition. 

The  history  of  this  long  period  is  very  con- 
fusedly and  imperfectly  related  by  ancient  au- 
thors, and  the  chronology  is  throughout  very 
inaccurately  ascertained;  yet  such  events  as 
are  either  interesting  in  themselves,  or  had  any 
permanent  influence  on  the  memorable  ages  of 
Greece,  which  form  the  subject  of  the  present 
work,  may  be  clearly  explained,  and  reduced 
to  a narrow  compass.  In  order  to  preserve  an 
unbroken  narrative,  we  must  consider  three 
series  of  events,  which  naturally  followed  each 
other,  and  which  all  tended  to  the  same  goal. 
In  this  view,  we  shall  first  examine  the  migra- 
tions of  different  tribes  or  communities  within 
the  narrow  bounds  of  Greece;  secondly,  the 
establishment  of  new  colonies  in  many  distant 
parts  of  Europe  as  well  as  of  Asia  and  Africa ; 
and  thirdly,  the  internal  changes  produced  in 
the  several  states,  by  their  adopting,  almost 
universally,  the  republican,  instead  of  the  mo- 
narchical, form  of  government.7  In  the  fluc- 
tuation of  these  commotions  wc  must,  then, 
seek  for  the  seeds  of  order  and  stability,  and 
endeavour  to  trace,  amidst  extensive  migra- 
tions, general  revolutions,  and  unceasing  hos- 
tilities, the  origin  and  improvement  of  those 
singular  institutions  which  tended  to  unite,  to 
polish,  and  to  adorn  the  scattered  and  still 
spreading  branches  of  the  Grecian  race  through 
every  part  of  the  world. 

The  migrations,  which  soon  followed  the 
Trojan  expedition,  are  mentioned,  but  not  ex- 
plained, by  historians.  Their  general  cause 
may  be  discovered  in  Homer,  whose  poems,  no 
less  instructive  than  agreeable,  can  alone  enable 
us  to  travel«with  equal  security  and  pleasure  in 
the  dark  regions  of  Grecian  antiquity.  Do- 
mestic dissension,  and,  still  more,  the  unsettled 
tenure  of  landed  property,  as  described  by  that 
immortal  poet,  naturally  engaged  the  Grecian 
tribes,  notwithstanding  their  acquaintance  with 
agriculture,  often  to  change  their  respective 


5 Odyss.  passim. 

6 Odyss.  1.  xxii.  ver.  200,  ctscq. 

7 Velleius  Patercul.  I.  i 

E 


habitations.  The  idea  of  a separate  property 
in  land  is  the  principal  tie  which  binds  men  to 
particular  districts.  The  avarice  of  individuals 
is  unwilling  to  relinquish  the  fields,  which  it  has 
been  the  great  object  of  their  industry  to  culti- 
vate and  to  adorn,  and  their  pride  is  averse  to  a 
separation  from  their  hereditary  establishments. 
These  passions,  which  cover  the  black  heaths 
and  inhospitable  mountains  of  the  north  with 
fair  and  populous  cities,  while  far  more  inviting 
regions  of  the  earth  still  remain  destitute  of  in- 
habitants, could  not  have  much  influence  on  a 
people,  who  regarded  land  as  the  property  of 
the  public,  rather  than  of  individuals.  In  such 
£ a nation,  men  are  connected  with  the 
j * ^ territory  which  they  inhabit,  only  as 
members  of  a particular  community;  and 
when  exposed  to  any  slight  inconvenience  at 
home,  or  allured  by  fairer  prospects  from 
abroad,  they  issue  forth  whth  one  accord  to 
acquire  by  their  united  valour,  more  secure  or 
more  agreeable  settlements.  Governed  by  mo- 
tives of  this  kind,  a tribe  of  Boeotians,  soon  after 
the  Trojan  war,  seized  the  rich  vale  of  Thes- 
salian Arne.  The  same  restless  spirit  urged  a 
warlike  band  of  Thessalians  to  quit  the  seats 
of  their  ancestors.  The  new  emigrants  poured 
down  with  irresistible  violence  on  the  unpre- 
pared Boeotians,  who  were  thus  reluctantly 
compelled,  sixty  years  after  the  taking  of  Troy, 
to  rejoin  their  brethren  in  the  ancient  kingdom 
of  Cadmus.8 * 

Twenty  years  after  this  event,  a more  ex- 
tensive migration  totally  changed  the  affairs 
of  the  Peloponnesus;  and  in  its  consequences, 
gave  new  inhabitants  to  the  whole  western 
^ C coast  of  Asia  Minor.  The  rival  families 
llW  ^erseus  anc^  Pelops  anciently  con- 
tended for  the  dominion  of  the  Grecian 
peninsula.  The  fortune  of  the  Pelopidae  pre- 
vailed ; but  their  superiority  led  them  rather  to 
persecute,  than  to  forgive,  their  enemies.  The 
descendants  and  partisans  of  the  great  Hercules, 
the  most  illustrious  hero  of  the  Perseid  line, 
were  divested  of  their  possessions,  and  driven 
into  banishment.  The  exiles  were  first  received 
by  the  Athenians,  wrhose  more  humane,  or  more 
enlarged  policy,  rendered  Attica,  ever  since  the 
reign  of  Theseus,  the  ordinary  resource  of  the 
miserable.9  Their  leader  Hyllus  was  after- 
wards adopted  by  Epalius,  the  aged  king  of 
Doris ; and  the  death  of  their  benefactor  soon 
made  the  Heracleidae  masters  of  that  moun- 
tainous province.10  But  the  wilds  of  CEta  and 
Parnassus  were  little  fitted  to  satisfy  men, 
whose  ancestors  had  enjoyed  far  more  valuable 
possessions.  Their  natural  ambition  was  long 
repressed  by  the,  growing  greatness  of  the  Pelo- 
pidae, and  the  glory  of  Agamemnon.  After  the 
unexpected  disasters  of  that  prince,  they  twice 
attempted,  unsuccessfully,  to  break  through  the 
Corinthian  isthmus,  and  to  recover  their  ancient 
dominion  in  Argos  and  Lacedaemon.11 

Instructed  by  past  miscarriages,  Temenus, 
Cresphontes,  ^ind  Aristodemus,  descendants  in 


8 Thucydid.  1.  i.  p.  9.  et  10.  Diodor.  1.  iv.  Strabo,  1.  ix 
p.  630.  Pausan.  1.  ix.  c.  xl. 

9 Lvsins  Orat.  Funoh. 

10  Strabo,  1.  ix.  p.  427. 

11  Ilcrodot.  1.  ix.  c.  xxvi.  Apollodor.  1.  iii.  c.  v.  ct  vi. 


34 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


the  fifth  degree  from  Hercules,  finally  aban- 
doned the  hopeless  design  of  entering  the  Pelo- 
ponnesus by  land.  But  determining  to  use 
every  exertion  for  regaining  their  hereditary 
establishments,  they  set  themselves,  with  great 
industry,  to  prepare  transports  in  a convenient 
harbour,  at  the  northern  extremity  of  the  Co- 
rinthian gulf,  which,  in  consequence  of  this 
transaction,  received,  and  thenceforth  retained, 
the  name  of  Naup  actus.  The  warlike  and 
rapacious  iEtolians,  whose  leader  Oxylus  was 
nearly  related  to  the  family  of  Hercules,  readily 
assisted  their  labours,  with  a view'  to  share  the 
booty  that  might  accrue  from  the  expedition. 
The  Dorians,  who  inhabited  the  neighbour- 
hood of  mount  Pindus,  cheerfully  deserted  the 
gloomy  solitude  of  their  woods,  in  order  to  seek 
possessions  in  a more  agreeable  and  better 
cultivated  country.  Animated  by  these  rein- 
forcements, the  Heracleidse  redoubled  their 
diligence.  All  necessary  preparations  were 
made  for  the  invasion ; yet  their  confidence  in 
arms  excluded  not  the  use  of  artifice.  By 
secret  intrigues  they  gained  a party  in  Lace- 
daemon ; and,  before  setting  sail,  they  prudently 
detached  a body  of  light  armed  troops,  whose 
appearance  at  the  Isthmus  drew  the  strength 
of  the  enemy  towards  that  quarter.1  Mean- 
while their  armament  was  carried  by  a favoura- 
ble gale  towards  the  eastern  coast  of  the  Pelo- 
£ ponnesus.  The  Heracleidse  landed  their 
j 1*  ' followers  without  opposition,  and  assail- 

ed the  defenceless  territories,  to  which 
they  had  long  laid  claim,  comprehending  the 
whole  peninsula,  except  the  central  province 
of  Arcadia,  and  the  maritime  district  of  Achaia. 
The  five  other  provinces  were  conquered  at  the 
same  time,  though  by  different  means.  Laconia 
was  betrayed  to  the  invaders;2  Argos  acknow- 
ledged their  authority ; Corinth,  Elis,  and  Mes- 
senia  submitted  to  their  arms.  The  revolution 
was  complete,  and  effected  with  little  blood- 
shed, but  not  without  great  oppression  of  the 
ancient  inhabitants,  many  of  whom  emigrated, 
and  many  were  reduced  to  slavery.3 

The  Heracleidse,  agreeably  to  the  custom  of 
that  age,  divided  their  new  acquisitions  by  lot. 
The  kingdom  of  Argos  fell  to  the  share  of  Te- 
menus ; Cresphontes  obtained  Messenia ; and  as 
Aristodemus  then  happened  to  die,  Laconia 
was  set  apart  for  his  infant  sons,  the  twin-bro- 
thers, Eurysthenes  and  Procles.  Corinth  was 
bestowed  on  their  kinsman  Aletes;  and  Elis 
given  to  Oxylus,  their  brave  JEtolian  ally.4 
This  distribution,  however,  referred  only  to  the 
royal  dignity,  then  extremely  limited,  and  to  an 
appropriated  domain  to  the  several  princes  in 
their  respective  allotments.  The  rest  of  the 
territory  was  divided  among  the  warlike  Do- 1 
rians  and  jEtolians,  who  had  conquered  for 
themselves,  not  for  their  leaders;5  and  who, 
having  over-run,  without  opposition,  the  finest 
provinces  of  the  Peloponnesus,  could  not  wil- 
lingly return  to  lead  a life  of  hardship  and 
misery  on  their  native  mountains. 


1 Pausan.  1.  ii.  c.  xviii. 

2 Strabo,  L viii.  p.  365. 

3 Herodot.  I.  vi.  c.  Hi.  Polyb.  1.  ii.  p.  178.  Strabo,  1.  viii. 
p.  383.  Pausan.  Argolic.  & Isocrat.  Panathen. 

4 Pauean.  ibid.  5 Isocrat,  in  Archidam. 


' Before  this  important  revolution,  Argos  ard 
| Lacedaemon  *vere  subject  to  Tisamenus,  grand- 
' son  of  Agamemnon ; Messenia  was  governed 
| by  Melanthus,  a descendant  of  the  celebrated 
Nestor.  These  princes  had  not  so  far  dege- 
nerated from  the  glory  of  their  ancestors,  as  to 
f submit  to  become  subjects  in  the  countries 
where  they  Had  long  reigned.  On  the  first 
: false  alarm  of  invasion  occasioned  by  the  ap 
pearance  of  light  troops  at  the  Isthmus,  Tisa 
menus  and  Melanthus  had  taken  the  field  with 
! the  flower  of  the  Argive  and  Messenian  nations. 
! But  while  they  prepared  to  repel  the  expected 
inroads  from  the  north,  they  received  the  me- 
; lancholy  intelligence  that  their  kingdoms  had 
• been  attacked  on  another  side,  on  which  they 
I thought  them  secure.  Instead  of  returning 
| southward  to  dispossess  the  Heracleidse,  an 
| enterprise  too  daring  to  afford  any  prospect  of 
success,  Tisamenus  turned  his  arms  against  the 
! Ionians,  who  inhabited  the  southern  shore  of 
j the  Corinthian  gulf.  An  obstinate  battle  was 
| fought,  which  proved  fatal  to  Tisamenus;  but 
| his  followers  obtained  a decisive  victory,  and, 
| having  expelled  or  enslaved  the  ancient  in- 
habitants, took6  possession  of  that  valuable 
j province,  so  famous  in  later  times  under  the 
name  of  Achaia.  Melanthus  enjflyed  better 
fortune.  Accompanied  by  his  faithful  Mes- 
1 senians,  he  resorted  to  Attica,  then  engaged  in 
war  with  the  neighbouring  kingdom  of  Bceotia. 

I The  Boeotian  prince  proposed  to  decide  the 
contest  by  single  combat.  Thymaetes,  though 
descended  from  the  heroic  Theseus,  declined 
the  challenge.  Melanthus  accepted  it,  prevailed 
in  the  conflict,  and  the  sceptre  of  the  deposed 
ThymEetes  was  his  reward.7 

The  fermentation  occasioned  in  Greece  by 
so  many  expulsions  and  migrations,  expanded 
itself  through  the  islands  and  coasts  of  Asia 
! Minor.  Many  Peloponnesian  fugitives  who 
beheld  with  indignation  the  calamities  inflicted 
on  their  country,  flocked  to  the  standard  of 
Penthilus,8  a younger  brother  of  Tisamenus, 
who  had  taken  refuge  in  Euboea.  Others  fol- 
lowed the  banners  of  Clenes  and  Malaus,9  also 
descendants  of  Agamemnon.  The  partizans 
of  all  these  princes  having  unsuccessfully  tra- 
versed the  northern  parts  of  Greece  in  quest 
of  new  settlements,  finally  yielded  to  the  dic- 
tates of  their  enterprising  spirit,  crossed  the 
Hellespont  eighty-eight  years  after  the  taking 
of  Trov,  and  established  themselves  along  the 
shore  of  the  ancient  kingdom  of  Priam.  They 
gradually  diffused  their  colonies  from  Cyzi<5us 
on  the  Propontis  to  the  mouth  of  the  river 
Hermus;10  which  delightful  country,  together 
with  the  isle  of  Lesbos,  thenceforth  received 
the  names  of  Eolis,  or  Eolia,  to  denote  that  its 
inhabitants  belonged  to  the  Eolian  branch  of 
the  Hellenic  race.11 

Consequences  still  more  important  resulted 
from  the  expulsion  of  the  Achteans  by  the  fol- 
lowers of  Tisamenus.  The  ancient  inhabitants 


6 Pausan  and  Strabo,  ibid. 

7 Strabo,  1.  ix.  p.  393.  Herodot.  1.  v.  c.  lxv. 

8 Strabo,  1.  ix.  p.  402. 

9 Idem,  1.  xiii.  p.  582,  et  seq. 

10  Idem,  ibid,  et  Herodot  1.  i.  C.  cli. 

11  Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  cli. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


35 


HI] 

of  Achaia,  being  themselves  Ionians,took  refuge 
with  their  kinsmen  in  Attica.  The  Messenian 
fugitives  under  Melanthus  had  sought  protec- 
tion in  the  same  country.  The  Athenians  readi- 
ly accepted  these  new  accessions  of  strength, 
being  inspired  with  a well-founded  jealousy  of 
the  Dorian  conquerors  of  Peloponnesus,  whose 
ambition  early  produced  that  memorable  rival- 
ship  between  the  Doric  and  Ionic  race,  which 
^ £ subsisted  to  the  latest  times  of  the  Gre- 
in'flQ*  cian  republics.12  In  the  reign  of  Codrus, 
son  of  Melanthus,  the  Dorians  had  al- 
ready encroached  on  the  Athenian  frontier,  and 
seized  the  territory  of  Megara,  on  the  northern 
coast  of  the  Saronic  gulf.13  Issuing  from 
their  strong  holds  in  that  .rocky  district,  from 
which  it  was  long  impossible  to  dislodge  them, 
they  harassed  the  Athenians  in  a cruel  war, 
concerning  which  a superstitious  rumour  pre- 
vailed, that  they  should  finally  remain  con- 
querors, provided  they  abstained  from  injuring 
the  person  of  the  Athenian  king.  Codrus, 
hearing  the  report,  was  inspired  with  the  spirit 
of  heroism  congenial  to  his  family.  Disguising 
himself  in  the  habit  of  a peasant,  he  proceeded 
to  the  quarters  of  the  enemy;  insulted  a Do- 
rian soldier;  a combat  ensued;  -Codrus  fell;14 
his  body  was  recognised;  and  the  superstitious 
Peloponnesians,  now  despairing  of  success,  sus- 
pended their  hostilities.  The  inimitable  merit 
of  a prince,  who  had  devoted  himself  to  death 
q for  the  safety  of  his  country,  furnished 
1068*  t^le  -^t^ienians  a Pretence  for  abo- 
lishing the  royal  authority.  None  of  the 
human  race,  they  declared,  was  worthy  to  suc- 
ceed Codrus;  and  none  but  Jupiter  should 
thenceforth  reign  in  Athens.15  Medon,  the 
eldest  son  of  that  admired  prince,  was  appoint- 
ed first  magistrate  of  the  republic,  under  the 
humbler  title  of  archon.  His  brothers  Neleus 
and  Androclus,  probably  dissatisfied  with  these 
transactions,  determined  to  leave  their  country. 
Their  design  was  approved  by  the  Achaean 
£ and  Messenian  refugees,  and  by  many 
IQ- r ' Athenian  citizens,  who  complained  that 
Attica  was  too  narrow  and  barren  to 
maintain  the  increasing  numbers  of  its  inhabit- 
ants. The  restless  spirits  in  Phocis,.  Bceotia, 
and  other  neighbouring  provinces,  eagerly  join- 
ed the  emigrants.  They  sailed  to  Asia  Minor, 
expelled  the  ancient  inhabitants,  a mixed  race 
of  Lydians,  Carians,  and  Pelasgi,  and  seized 
the  central  and  most  beautiful  portion  of  the 
Asiatic  coast.16  Their  colonies  were  gradually 
diffused  from  the  banks  of  the  Hermus  to  the 
promontory  of  Posideion.  They  afterwards 
took  possession  of  Chios  and  Samos  ; and  all 
these  countries  were  united  by  the  common 
name  of.  Ionia,  to  denote  that  the  Ionians 
composed  the  most  numerous  division  of  the 
colony.1? 

During  the  same  turbulent  ages,  intestine  se- 
dition, foreign  invasion,  or  the  restless  spirit  of 
adventure  and  rapine,  occasioned  other  import- 


12  Herodot.  et  Thucydid.  passim. 

13  Strabo,  1.  ix.  p.  393. 

14  Pausan.  1.  vii.  c.  xxv.  Justin.  1.  ii. 

15  Pausan.  1.  vii.  c.  ii. 

16  Herodot.  I.  i.  c.  cxlii. 

17  Strabo,  1.  xiv.  p.  632.  et  seq.  Pausan.  1.  vii.  c.  ii. 


ant  extensions  of  Grecian  colonization.  The 
most  numerous  colonies  occupied  the  isles  of 
the  Ionian  and  JEgean  seas,  the  southern  coast 
of  Italy  almost  intersected  by  the  former,  and 
the  winding  shores  of  Asia  Minor13  so  beau- 
tifully diversified  by  the  latter.  The  larger 
islands  of  Sicily,  Sardinia,  and  Cyprus,  were 
very  anciently  planted  by  Greeks.  While  the 
Hellenic  stock  pushed  forth  these  vigorous 
shoots  towards  the  east  and  west,  very  consi- 
derable branches  extended  towards  the  north 
and  south.  The  maritime  parts  of  Epirus, 
Macedonia,  and  Thrace,  themselves  abounding 
in  Greek  settlements,  poured  forth  new  colo- 
nies along  the  European  shores  of  the  Pro- 
pontis and  Euxine:19  and  emigrants  from  Pe- 
loponnesus having  early  established  themselves 
on  the  opposite  coast  of  Africa,  were  gradually 
diffused  from  the  confines  of  Egypt  to  the  Syr- 
ticgulf.26  The  history  of;  all  these  colonies,  some 
of  which  rivalled  in  arts,  and  others  in  arms, 
the  glory  of  the  mother  country,  will  merit  our 
attention,  in  proportion  as  they  emerge  from 
obscurity,  and  take  a station  in  the  general 
system  of  Grecian  politics. 

The  Asiatic  Greeks,  whose  affairs  first  be- 
came  intimately  connected  with  those 
g'  ‘ of  the  mother  country,  received  a con- 
siderable accession  of  strength  in  conse- 
quence of  the  renewal  of  hostilities  between 
the  Athenians  and  Dorians.  The  latter  were 
finally  expelled  from  many  of  their  strong  holds 
in  Megara.  Disdaining  after  this  misfortune 
to  return  into  the  Peloponnesus,  many  of  them 
sailed  to  the  islands  of  Rhodes  and  Crete, 
already  peopled  by  Doric  tribes;  while  others 
transported  themselves  to  the  peninsula  of  Ca- 
ria,  which,  in  honour  of  their  mother  country, 
received  the  name  of  Doris.21 

In  consequence  of  this  establishment,  which 
was  formed  two  hundred  and  forty  years  after 
the  Trojan  war,  the  western  coast  of  Asia  Mi- 
nor was  planted  by  the  Eolians  in  the  north, 
the  Ionians  in  the  middle,  and  the  Dorians  in 
the  south.  These  original  divisions  of  the  Hel- 
lenic race  retained  in  their  new  settlements  the 
peculiarities  of  accent  and  dialect,  by  which 
they  had  been  respectively  distinguished  in 
Europe  ;22  and  which,  at  the  time  of  their  seve- 
ral emigrations,  prevailed  in  Bceotia,  Attica, 
and  Lacedaemon.  The  Boeotians  and  Lacedae- 
monians, who  claimed  the  first  honours,  the 
one  of  the  Eolic,  and  the  other  of  the  Dorian 
name,  adhered,  with  little  variation,  to  their 
ancient  dialects  : but  the  Athenians,  more  in- 
genious, or  fonder  of  novelty,  made  such  con- 
siderable alterations  in  their  writing  and  pro- 
nunciation, as  remarkably  distinguished  them 
from  their  Ionian  brethren ; and  thus  the  same 
language  came  to  be  modified  into  four  subdi- 
visions,23 or  dialects,  which  may  be  still  recog- 
nised in  the  invaluable  remains  of  Grecian 
literature. 

Of  all  these  innumerable  colonies,  the  Ionians 


18  Thucydid.  1.  i.  et.  Strabo,  passim. 

19  Herodot.  1.  ii.  et  1.  4. 

20  Herodot.  1.  iv.  c.  cxlvii.  Strabo,  1.  x.  et  I.  xvlL 

21  Strabo,  et  Pausan. et  Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  Ixxiu. 

22  Heraclid.  Pont,  apud  Athenatum,  1.  xiv. 

23  Strabo,  1.  viii. 


36 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE 


will  demand  our  earliest  and  most  studious  at- 
tention. They  settled  in  a country  of  great  ex- 
tent and  fertility,  enjoying  the  most  delicious 
climate,  and  peculiarly  adapted  to  a commer- 
cial intercourse  with  the  most  improved  nations 
of  antiquity.  Favoured  by  so  many  advan- 
tages, they  silently  flourished  in  peace  and 
prosperity,  till  their  growing  wealth  and  num- 
bers excited  the  avarice  or  the  jealousy  of  the 
powers  of  Asia.  They  were  successively  con- 
quered by  the  Lydians  and  Persians,  but  never 
thoroughly  subdued.  Having  imbibed  the  prin- 
ciples of  European  liberty,  they  spurned  the 
yoke  of  Asiatic  bondage.  In  their  glorious 
struggles  to  re-assume  the  character  of  free- 
men, they  solicited  and  obtained  the  assistance 
of  their  Athenian  ancestors,  and  occasioned 
that  memorable  rivalship  between  the  Greeks 
and  Persians,  which,  having  lasted  two  centu- 
ries, ended  in  the  destruction  of  the  Persian 
empire.  In  this  illustrious  contest,  the  first 
successor  of  the  Greeks  against  enemies  far 
more  powerful,  and  incomparably  more  nu- 
merous than  themselves,  inspired  them  with 
an  enthusiasm  of  valour.  Their  exploits  merit- 
ed not  only  praise,  but  wonder,1  and  seemed 
fit  subjects  for  that  historical  romance,  which, 
in  the  progress  of  literature,  naturally  succeeds 
to  epic  poetry. 

The  writers  who  undertook  to  record  and  to 
adorn  the  trophies  of  Marathon  and  Plataea, 
had  occasion  to  look  back  to  the  transactions 
of  more  remote  times.  But  in  taking  this  re- 
trospect, they  discovered,  or  at  least  we  may 
discover  by  their  works,  that  their  inquiries 
began  too  late  to  afford  much  authentic  infor- 
mation on  that  important  subject.  Yet,  imper- 
fect as  their  relations  necessarily  are,  they  serve 
to  explain  by  what  concurrence  of  favourable 
circumstances  and  causes  the  Greeks  adopted 
those  singular  institutions,  acquired  that  sense 
of  national  honour,  and  attained  those  virtues 
of  policy  and  prowess,  which  enabled  them,  by 
the  most  splendid  series  of  exploits  recorded  in 
history,  first  to  resist,  then  to  invade,  and 
finally  to  subdue  the  monarchy  of  Cyrus. 

During  the  prevalence  of  those  generous, 
though  romantic  opinions,  which  characterised 
the  heroic  ages,  the  authority  of  kings  was 
founded  on  religion,  supported  by  gratitude, 
and  confirmed  by  utility.  While  they  ap- 
proved themselves  worthy  ministers  of  Heaven, 
they  were  entitled  to  due  and  hereditary  hon- 
ours ;2  but  in  the  exercise  of  the  regal  office, 
they  were  bound  to  respect  the  rights,  the  sen- 
timents, and  even  the  prejudices  of  their 
subjects.  The  fatal  dictates  of  ambition  and 
avarice  led  them  to  transgress  the  prescribed 
limits,  and  to  trample  on  those  laws  which 
their  predecessors  had  held  sacred.3  The  mi- 
nute division  of  landed  property,  which  had 
already  taken  place,  not  only,  as  above  men- 
tioned, in  the  Peloponnesus,  but  in  the  north- 


1 T*  e fytn,  ytyotK*  uxi  Qctvyaa-T*.  Herodot.  p.  1.  The 
exploits  which  he  relates,  still  more  than  his  manner  of  re- 
lating them,  render  the  work  of  Herodotus  the  intermediate 
shade  between  poetry  and  history,  between  Homer  and 
Thucydides. 

2 ytfxiri  TrxrpixKi  Bser<x.Eicei.  Thucydid.  I.  i. 

3 Thucyd.  1.  i.  p.  10. 


[Chap. 

ern  provinces  of  Greece,  rendered  the  nobles 
and  people  more  sensible  of  these  encroach- 
ments, which  they  must  at  once  boldly  resist, 
or  submit  for  ever  to'  the  yoke  of  oppression. 
Reduced  to  this  alternative,  the  Greeks  were 
inclined  by  disposition,  and  enabled  by  situa 
tion,  to  prefer  and  to  maintain  the  most  hon 
ourable  part.  The  prerogatives  of  royalty 
were  not  as  yet  supported  by  the  exclusive 
right  of  the  sword,  by  which  a particular  class, 
of  men  might  intimidate  and  control  the  reso 
lutions  of  their  fellow-subjects.  The  more  in- 
dependent and  illustrious  citizens,  who  had 
been  accustomed  from  the  earliest  times  to 
come  armed  to  the  council  or  assembly,  com- 
municated their  grievances,  and  took  proper 
means  to  remove  them.4  Miltas,  the  fourth 
Argive  prince  in  succession  to  Temenus,  was 
condemned  to  death  for  usurping  absolute 
power.  Monarchy  expired  more  honourably 
in  Attica ; it  perished  still  more  disgracefully 
in  Arcadia,  but  was  gradually  abolished  in 
every  province  of  Greece,  except  Sparta  alone, 
from  the  southern  extremity  of  Peloponnesus 
to  the  northern  frontier  of  Thessaly.5 

The  important,  though  remote  consequences 
of  this  revolution,  will  be  explained  in  the  se- 
quel. Its  immediate  tendency  served  only  to 
multiply  the  evils  which  it  was  designed  to 
remedy.  Greece,  oppressed  by  its  kings,  was 
still  more  oppressed  by  its  archons,  or  magis- 
trates ;6  and,  already  too  much  divided  under 
the  ancient  government,  was  still  more  subdi- 
vided under  the  new  form  of  polity.  Many 
inferior  cities  disdained  the  jurisdiction  of  their 
respective  capitals.  Several  of  them  affected 
separate  and  independent  sovereignty.  Each 
town,  each  district,  maintained  war  with  its 
neighbours  ; and  the  fanciful  state  of  nature, 
according  to  the  philosophy  of  Hobbes,  was 
actually  realized  in  that  distracted  country.7 

From  these  accumulated  disorders,  which 
seemed  scarcely  capable  of  augmentation,  it 
is  time  to  turn  our  view  to  those  events  and 
causes  which  operated  in  a contrary  direction, 
and  gradually  introduced  union  and  happiness. 
The  Dorian  conquest  of  Peloponnesus,  other- 
wise productive  of  much  confusion  and  blood- 
shed in  that  peninsula,  greatly  extended,  how- 
ever, the  salutary  influence  of  the  Amphic- 
tyonic  council.  In  the  northern  parts  of 
Greece,  this  institution,  which  had  been  ori- 
ginally intended  to  prevent  foreign  invasion, 
had  been  found  equally  useful  in  promoting 
domestic  concord.  The  Dorians  being  con 
stituent  members  of  the  council,  continued  to 
attend  its  meetings  after  they  had  settled  be- 
yond the  mountainous  isthmus  of  Corinth.  All 
the  provinces  which  they  conquered  gradually 
assumed  the  same  privilege.  The  Amphic- 
tyons  thus  became  a representative  assembly  of 
the  whole  Grecian  name,  consisting  not  only 
of  the  three  original  tribes  of  Ionians,  Dorians, 
and  Eolians,  but  of  the  several  subdivisions  of 
these  tribes,  and  of  the  various  communities 


4 Aristot.  Polit.  1.  iv.  c.  13. 

5 Thucydid.  1.  i.  p.  10. 

fi  Aristot.  Polit.  1.  iv.  c.  13.  Plut.  in  Solon. 

7 Thucydid.  ibid. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


37 


III.] 

formed  from  their  promiscuous  combination.* * * 4 * * * 8 
Each  independent  state  had  a right  to  send 
two  members,  the  Pylagoras9 *  and  Hieromne- 
mon,19  respectively  entrusted  with  the  civil  and 
religious  concerns  of  their  constituents.  The 
abolition  of  royalty  rendering  the  independent 
communities  more  numerous,  increased  the 
number  of  Amphictyons  to  about  a hundred 
persons.11  The  central  city  of  Delphi,  so  fa- 
mous from  causes  that  will  be  immediately 
explained,  was  chosen  as  a convenient  place 
for  holding  their  vernal  assembly ; the  au- 
tumnal was  still  held  at  Thermopylae.  An 
oath,  guarded  by  the  most  solemn  impreca- 
cations,  was  administered  to  each  member, 
“that  he  would  never  subvert  any  Amphic- 
tyonic  c^ty,  nor  stop  the  courses  of  its  running 
water,  but  punish  to  the  utmost  of  his  power 
those  who  committed  such  outrages.”12  Their 
constituents,  however,  discovered,  on  innu- 
merable occasions,  that  they  thought  them- 
selves but  imperfectly  bound  by  this  sacred 
promise.  Every  excess  of  animosity  prevailed 
among  the  Grecian  republics,  notwithstanding 
the  interposition  of  the  Amphictyons.  Yet  it 
cannot  be  doubted  that  their  authority  tended 
sometimes  to  appease,  sometimes  to  moderate 
contention;  and  that  this  respected  tribunal, 
though  deficient  in  coercive  power,  had  a con- 
siderable effect  to  suppress  discord,  and  restrain 
the  barbarities  of  war.13. 

The  Amphictyons  gained  much  considera- 
tion, by  declaring  themselves  protectors  of  the 
Delphic  oracle,  which  had  been  growing  to 
importance  since  the  Dorian  conquest,  and 
which  thenceforth  gradually  acquired  a singu- 
lar influence  on  the  affairs  of  Greece.  It  is 
seldom  possible  to  explain  the  rise  of  institu- 
tions derived  from  the  natural  passions  of  men, 
or  founded  on  prejudices  as  ancient  as  the  world. 
The  most  probable  information  concerning  the 
origin  of  Grecian  oracles  was  conveyed  to 
Herodotus,14  in-  a thin  allegorical  veil,  by  the 
priests  of  Dodona,  and  explained  to  that  in- 
quisitive and  ingenious  traveller  by  the  priests 
of  Jupiter  in  Egypt.  In  the  fanciful  style  of 
antiquity,  a black  pigeon  flew  from  the  temple 
of  Egyptian  Thebes,  to  Thesprotia  in  Epirus, 
perched  on  a spreading  oak,  proclaimed  with  a 
human  voice,  that  an  oracle  of  Jupiter  should 
be  established ; and  the  inhabitants  of  the 


8 The  principle  divisions  were, — 1,  Ionians,  among  whom 

the  Athenians  held  the  first  rank. — 2,  The  Dorians,  among 
whom  the  Lacedaemonians  held  the  first  rank. — 3,  The 

Eolians,  among  whom  the  Bceotians  held  the  first  rank. — 

4,  Thessalians. — 5,  Magnetes. — 6,  Achaeans. — 7,  Phthio- 

tes. — 8,  Phocians. — 9,  Malians. — 10,  Alnians  or  CEtians. — 

11,  Dolopians. — 12,  Locrians.  Confer  Pausan.  in  Pliocic. 

et  iEschin.  de  Falsa  Legat. 

9 Demosth.  de  Coron.  sect.  51. 

10  Snides,  ad  voc. 

11  Thirty-one  Amphictyonic  cities  undertook  the  defence 
of  Greece  in  the  Persian  war.  (Plutarch,  in  Themistocl.) 
The  one  half  of  Greece,  on  that  memorable  occasion,  re- 
mained neutral,  or  sided  with  the  enemy.  (Herodot.  et 
Diodor.)  If  each  city  sent  two  members  to  the  Amphic- 
tyons, the  whole  would  amount  to  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
four.  But  as  some  cities  enjoyed  the  right  of  being  repre- 
sented in  that  council  only  in  conjunction  with  others,  this 
might  diminish  the  number  of  members  to  that  mentioned 

in  the  text. 

12.  /Eschin.  de  Falsa  Legat.  sect.  35 

13  Plut.  in  Citnon. 

14  Herodot.  1.  ii.  c.  54 


neighbouring  hamlet  of  Dodona  obeyed  the 
divine  admonition.  In  plainer  language,afemale 
attendant  belonging  to  the  temple  of  Thebes  on 
the  Nile,  was  transported  to  Epirus  by  Phoeni- 
cian pirates,  and  there  sold  as  a slave.  Her 
Egyptian  complexion  deserved  the  epithet  of 
black  among  the  mountaineers  of  Thesprotia, 
bordering  on  the  Illyric  hordes,  who  were  re- 
marked by  the  Greek  historians  for  their 
blooming  complexions,  active  vigour,  and  lon- 
gevity.15 She  was  said  to  speak  the  language 
of  birds,  before  she  understood  the  Grecian 
tongue,  often  distinguished  by  the  appellation 
of  human  speech.16  The  enterprising  female, 
though  reduced  to  captivity  among  those 
whom  she  must  have  regarded  as  barbarians, 
did  not  yield  to  despair,  but  dexterously  avail- 
ed herself  of  the  advantages  which  she  derived 
from  her  education  and  her  country.  In 
Egypt,  superstition  had  been  already  reduced 
into  system  ; and  a pretension  to  prophecy 
was  one  of  the  most  successful  artifices  by 
which  the  priests  of  Thebes  long  governed  the 
opinions  and  resolutions  of  prince  and  people. 
Her  attendance  on  the  temple  had  taught  her 
some  of  the  arts  by  which  this  pretension  was 
maintained.  She  chose  the  dark  shade  of  a 
venerable  oak  ; delivered  mysterious  answers 
to  the  admiring  multitude  ; her  reputation  in- 
creased ; success  gained  her  associates  ; a tem- 
ple rose  to  Jupiter,  and  was  surrounded  by 
houses  for  his  ministers. 

This  singular  institution  was  imitated,  at  a 
very  early  period,  in  many  provinces  of  Greece. 
The  various  and  inconsistent  accounts  of  simi- 
lar establishments  abundantly  confirm  the  an- 
tiquity of  their  origin,  and  the  multiplicity  of 
temples,  groves,  grottos,  and  caverns,  in  which 
the  favourites  of  innumerable  divinities  de- 
clared their  will  to  men,  proves  them  no  less 
universal  than  ancient.17  During  the  heroic 
ages,  indeed,  as  illustrious  and  pious  men  be- 
lieved themselves,  on  important  occasions, 
honoured  with  the  immediate  presence  and 
advice  of  their  heavenly  protectors,  the  se- 
condary information  of  priests  and  oracles  was 
less  generally  regarded  and  esteemed.  But  in 
proportion  as  the  belief  ceased  that  the  gods 
appeared  in  a human  form,  or  the  supposed 
visits  at  least  of  these  celestial  beings  seemed 
less  frequent  and  familiar,  the  office  of  priest 
became  more  important  and  respectable,  and  the 
confidence  in  oracles  gradually  gained  ground. 
At  length,  these  admired  institutions, being  con- 
sidered as  the  chief  and  almost  only  mode  of 
communication  with  supernatural  powers,  ac- 
quired a degree  of  influence  capable  to  control 
every  other  principle  of  authority,  whether 
civil  or  sacred.18 

But  these  various  oracles,  though  alike 
founded  on  ignorance,  and  raised  by  deceit, 
were  not  equally  supported  by  power  and 
policy.  The  crafty  Cretans  (apt  scholars  of 
Egypt,)  who  instituted  the  worship  of  the  Del- 
phian Apollo,19  gradually  procured  the  credit 


15  Lucian  in  Macrob.  16  Homer,  passim. 

17  Strabo,  1.  viii.  p.  352.  et  p.  418.  et  Strabo  ct  Pausan. 
passim. 

18  Herodot.  Thucydid.  et  Xenoph.  passim. 

19  Homer,  Hymn,  ad  Apollin. 


38 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


of  superior  veracity  to  the  predictions  of  the 
god  whom  they  served.  Favourable  circum- 
stances concurred ; the  central  situation  of 
Delphi;  the  vernal  session  of  the  Amphictyons; 
the  lustre  derived  from  the  immediate  protec- 
tion of  that  assembly ; above  all,  the  uncom- 
mon and  awful  aspect  of  the  place  itself,  fitted 
to  excite  wonder  in  ages  less  addicted  to  super- 
stition. 

That  branch  of  the  celebrated  mount  Par- 
nassus, which  divides  the  districts  of  Phocis 
and  Locris,  contained,  towards  its  southern  ex- 
tremity, a profound  cavern,  the  crevices  of 
which  emitted  a sulphureous  vapour,  that, 
powerfully  affecting  the  brain,  was  deemed 
capable  of  inspiring  those  who  breathed  it  with 
religious  frenzy,  and  prophetic  enthusiasm.1 
Around  the  principal  mouth  of  the  chasm,  the 
city  of  Delphi  arose  in  the  form  of  a theatre, 
upon  the  winding  declivity  of  Parnassus,  whose 
fantastic  tops  overshadowed  it,  like  a canopy, 
on  the  north,  wffiile  two  immense  rocks  render- 
ed it  inaccessible  on  the  east  and  west,  and  the 
rugged  and  shapeless  mount  Cirphis  defended 
it  on  the  south.2  The  foot  of  the  last-named 
mountain  is  washed  by  the  rapid  Plistus,  which 
discharges  itself  into  the  sea  at  the  distance  of 
only  a few  leagues  from  the  sacred  city.  This 
inaccessible  and  romantic  situation,  from  which 
the  place  derived  the  name  of  Delphi,3  was 
rendered  still  more  striking,  by  the  innumera- 
ble echoes  which  multiplied  every  sound,  and 
increased  the  ignorant  veneration  of  visitants 
for  the  god  of  the  oracle.  The  artful  minis- 
ters of  Apollo  gradually  collected  such  objects 
in  the  groves  and  temple,  as  were  fitted  to 
astonish  the  senses  of  the  admiring  multitude. 
The  splendour  of  marble,  the  magic  of  paint- 
ing, the  invaluable  statues  of  gold  and  silver, 
represented  (to  use  the  language  of  antiquity) 
not  the  resemblance  of  any  earthly  habitation, 
but  rather  expressed  the  image  of  Olympus, 
adorned  and  enlightened  by  the  actual  presence 
of  the  gods.  During  the  age  of  Homer,  the 
rich  magnificence  of  Delphi  was  already  pro- 
verbial ;4  and  when  Xerxes  undertook  his  me- 
morable expedition  against  Greece,  the  dedica- 
tions in  this  pious  treasury,  accumulated  from  the 
superstition  and  vanity  of  Greeks  and  Barba- 
rians, were  held  equivalent5  to  the  revenues  of 
the  monarch  of  Asia,  who  covered  the  broad 
.Egian  with  his  fleet,  and  transported  into  Eu- 
rope two  millions  of  armed  men. 

The  protection  and  superintendence  of  this 
precious  depository  of  riches  and  superstition 
belonged  to  the  Amphictyons.  But  the  in- 
habitants of  Delphi,  who,  if  we  may  use  the 


. 1 Diodor.  Sicul.  1.  xvi.  c.  26.  et  Strab.  1.  ix.  p.  419. 

2 Homer  lias  rather  painted  than  described  the  situation 
of  Pytho,  Apollo’s  temple,  at  Delphi : 

A-jrxg  usrsgSjv 

IIst^sj  iirazoEfiar*!,  xii\t | S'  u— o Sifgeui  B-ere-x,  etc. 

Hymn,  ad  Apollitt. 

3 AsA.ee?  is  explained  in  the  glossaries  by  synonymous 
words,  signifying  solitary , alone. 

4 O-jS’  3<r<rx  KXiv s;  suScj  x?htzoz$  (vt<{  eigyst. 

5 See  Dissert,  sur  l’Oracle  de  Delph.  par.  Mr.  Hirdion, 

Mem.  de  l’Academ.  The  comparison  was,  doubtless,  an 

exaggeration  of  the  wealth  of  Delphi,  which  was  little 

kpown  till  later  times,  when  the  Phocians  plundered  the 

temple  of  near  a million  sterling,  without  exhausting  its 

treasures.  But  of  this  more  hereafter. 


^Chap- 

expression,  were  the  original  proprietors  of  the 
oracle,  always  continued  to  direct  the  religious 
ceremonies,  and  to  conduct  the  important  busi- 
ness of  prophecy.6  It  was  their  province  alone 
to  determine  at  what  time,  and  on  what  occa- 
sion, the  Pythia  should  mount  the  sacred 
tripod,  to  receive  the  prophetic  steams,  by 
which  she  communicated  with  Apollo.  When 
overflowing  with  the  heavenly  inspiration,  she 
uttered  the  confused  words,  or  rather  frantic 
sounds,  irregularly  suggested  by  the  impulse 
of  the  god ; the  Delphians7 *  collected  these 
sounds,  reduced  them  into  order,  animated 
them  with  sense,  and  adorned  them  with  har- 
mony. The  Pythia,  appointed  and  dismissed 
at  pleasure,  was  a mere  instrument  in  the  hands 
of  those  artful  ministers,  whose  character  be- 
came so  venerable  and  sacred,  that  they  were 
finally  regarded,  not  merely  as  attendants  and 
worshippers,  but  as  the  peculiar  family  of  the 
god.s  Their  number  was  considerable,  and 
never  exactly  ascertained,  since  all  the  princi- 
pal inhabitants  of  Delphi,  claiming  an  imme- 
diate relation  to  Apollo,  were  entitled  to  officiate 
in  the  rites  of  his  sanctuary  ; and  even  the  in- 
ferior ranks,  belonging  to  that  sacred  city,  were 
continually  employed  in  dances,  festivals,  pro- 
cessions, and  in  displaying  all  the  gay  pageantry 
of  an  airy  and  elegant  superstition. 

The  subsequent  history  of  Greece  attests  the 
important  and  salutary  influence  of  the  Del- 
phic oracle,  which  no  sooner  attained  splen- 
dour, than  it  confirmed,  by  its  awful  sanction, 
two  institutions,  the  first  religious,  the  second 
civil,  and  both  accompanied  with  very  extraor- 
dinary consequences.  The  Olympic  games, 
and  Spartan  laws,  were  respectively  establish- 
ed by  Iphitus  and  Lycurgus,  contemporaries,9 
friends,  both  animated  by  the  true  spirit  of  pa- 
triotism, and  unquestionably  the  most  illustri- 
ous characters  of  the  age  in  which  they  lived  ;l° 
yet  the  roads  which  they  pursued  for  reaching 
the  same  goal,  the  safety  of  their  respective 
territories,  were  so  widely  different,  that  while 
the  Olympic  games  rendered  Elis  the  most 
pacific,  the  laws  of  Lycurgus  made  Sparta  the 
most  warlike,  of  all  the  Grecian  communities. 

It  was  held  an  ancient  and  sacred  custom, 
in  the  heroic  ages,  to  celebrate  the  funerals  of 
illustrious  men  by  such  shows  and  ceremonies 
as  seemed  most  pleasing  to  their  shades.  The 
tombs,  around  which  the  melancholy  manes 
were  supposed  to  hover,  naturally  became  the 
scene  of  such  solemnities.  There  the  fleeting 
ghosts  of  departed  heroes  were  entertained  and 
honoured  by  exhibitions  of  bodily  strength  and 
address  j11  while  the  gods,  though  inhabiting 


6 Strabo,  1.  ix.  7 Strabo,  1.  ix.  p.  419. 

8 Lucian  Phaler. 

9 Phlegon  apud  Euseb.  Chronic,  et  Aristot  apud  Plu- 
tarch. in  Lycurg. 

10  Lycurgus  and  Iphitus  are  commonly  supposed  to  have 
instituted  the  Olympic  games  108  years  before  the  period  to 
which  the  Olympiads  could  be  regularly  traced.  This  was 
776  years  before  Christ,  when  Correbus  won  in  the  foot-race. 
See  Pausan.  v.  Sir  Isaac  Newton  considers  the  chrono- 
logy preceding  the  victory  of  Corcebus  as  so  extremely  un- 
certain, that  he  proposes  striking  off  the  imaginary  interval 
between  him  and  Iphitus;  which  appears  the  more  rea- 
sonable, because  history  is  totally  silent  with  regard  to  any 
occurrences  that  must  have  happened  in  the  intermediate 
space  of  108  years. 

11  Iliad,  1.  xxiii. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


39 


III.] 

the  broad  expanse11  of  heaven,  were  yet  pe- 
culiarly worshipped  by  prayers  and  sacrifices, 
in  the  several  places,  which  sometimes  the  wild- 
ness, and  sometimes  the  elegance  of  fancy, 
had  assigned  for  their  favourite,  though  tem- 
porary, residence  on  earth.  The  lofty  chain 
of  Olympus  separating  the  barbarous  kingdom 
of  Macedon  from  the  fertile  plains  of  Thessaly, 
is  distinguished  by  several  circumstances, 
which  seemed  justly  to  entitle  it  to  that  honour. 
This  long  and  lofty  ridge  ascends  above  the 
regions  of  storms  and  tempests.  Its  winding 
sides  are  diversified  by  woods,  and  intersected 
by  torrents.  Its  fantastic  tops,  towering  above 
the  clouds,  reflect,  during  day,  the  rays  of  the 
sun,  and  sometimes  brighten  the  gloom  of 
night,  with  the  lambent  splendours  of  the 
aurora  borealis.12  Olympus  came,  therefore, 
to  be  naturally  regarded  as  the  principal  ter- 
restrial habitation  of  the  gods ; along  the  re- 
cesses of  this  mountain13  each  divinity  had  his 
appropriate  palace  ; on  its  highest  summit  Ju- 
piter often  assembled  the  heavenly  council ; 
and  from  thence,  veiled  in  a white  gleam,  the 
protectors  of  mankind  descended,  and  were 
visibly  manifested  to  mortal  eyes.14 

While  Olympus  was  considered  as  the  ge- 
neral rendezvous  of  these  fanciful  beings,  it 
was  natural  to  imagine  that  the  partiality  of 
particular  divinities  might  select  other  favourite 
spots  of  the  earth  for  their  separate  abode. 
The  singular  aspect  of  Delphi,  or  Pytho,  which 
recommended  it  as  the  seat  of  the  oracle  o‘ 
Apollo,  and  afterwards  of  the  Pythian  games* 
has  already  been  described.  The  Corinthian 
territory  was  particularly  consecrated  to  Nep- 
tune ;15  for  where  could  the  god  of  the  sea  he 
more  properly  worshipped,  than  on  the  narrow 
isthmus,  whose  shores  were  adorned  by  grate- 
ful monuments  of  delivered  mariners,  and 
which  had  continued,  from  early  times,  the 
principal  centre  of  Grecian  navigation  ? 

A tradition  prevailed,  that  even  before  the 
Dorian  conquest,  the  fruitful  and  picturesque 
banks  of  the  Alpheus,  in  the  province  of  Elis, 
or  Eleia,  had  been  consecrated  to  Jupiter.16  It 
is  certain  that  athletic  sports,  similar  to  those 
described  by  Homer  at  the  funeral  of  Patro- 
clus,  had  been  on  many  occasions  exhibited  in 
Elis,  by  assembled  chiefs,  with  more  than  or- 
dinary solemnity.17  The  Dorian  conquerors 
are  said  to  have  renewed  the  consecration  of 
that  delightful  province.  But  the  wars  which 
early  prevailed  between  them  and  the  Athe- 
nians, and  the  jealousies  and  hostilities  which 
afterwards  broke  out  among  themselves,13 
totally  interrupted  the  religious  ceremonies  and 
exhibitions  with  which  they  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  honour  their  common  gods  and  heroes. 
Amidst  the  calamities  which  afflicted  or  threat- 
ened the  Peloponnesus,  Iphitus,  a descendant 


11  Oujsevo;  su^o <r.  Homer,  passim. 

12  See  the  inimitable  description  in  the  6th  book  of  the 
Odyssey,  ver.  42. 

13  Kars*  jrTu%*f  O\v(i7roto.  Along  the  foldings  of 
Olympus. 

14  Homer,  passim  ; and  particularly  Iliad,  1.  xix.  ver.  40. 

15  Pausan.  Corinth,  et  Strabo,  p.  382. 

16  Pausan.  1.  v.  passim,  et  1.  vi.  p.  456. 

17  Iliad,  ii.  ver.  697,  ct  Iliad,  ix.  ver.  623. 

18  Pausan.  1.  v. 


of  OxylUs,  to  whom  the  province  of  Eleia  had 
fallen  in  the  general  partition  of  the  peninsula, 
applied  to  the  Delphic  oracle.  The  priests  of 
Apollo,  ever  disposed  to  favour  the  views  of 
kings  and  legislators,  answered  agreeably  to 
his  wish,  that  the  festivals  anciently  celebrated 
at  Olympia,  on  the  Alpheus,  must  be  renewed, 
and  an  armistice  proclaimed  for  all  the  states 
willing  to  partake  of  them,  and  desirous  to 
avert  the  vengeance  of  heaven.19  Fortified 
by  this  authority,  and  assisted  by  the  advice  of 
Lycurgus,  Iphitus  took  measures,  not  only  for 
restoring  the  Olympic  solemnity,  but  for  ren- 
dering it  perpetual.  The  injunction  of  the 
oracle  was  speedily  diffused  through  the  re- 
motest parts  of  Greece,  by  the  numerous  vota- 
ries who  frequented  the  sacred  shrine.  The 
armistice  was  proclaimed  in  Peloponnesus,  and 
preparations  were  made  in  Eleia,  for  exhibiting 
shows  and  performing  sacrifices.  In  the  heroic 
ages,  feats  of  bodily  strength  and  address  were 
destined  to  the  honour  of  deceased  warriors  ; 
hymns  and  sacrifices  were  reserved  for  the 
gods.  But  the  flexible  texture  of  Grecian  su- 
perstition, easily  confounding  the  expressions 
of  respectful  gratitude  and  pious  veneration, 
enabled  Iphitus  to  unite  both  in  his  new  insti- 
tution. 

The  festival,  which  lasted  five  days,  began 
and  ended  with  a sacrifice  to  Olympian  Jove. 
The  intermediate  time  was  chiefly  filled  up  by 
the  gymnastic  exercises,  in  which  all  freemen 
of  Grecian  extraction  were  invited  to  contend, 
provided  they  had  been  born  in  lawful  wedlock, 
and  had  lived  untainted  by  any  infamous  im- 
moral stain.  The  preparation  for  this  part  of 
the  entertainment  was  made  in  the  gymnasium 
of  Elis,  a spacious  edifice,  surrounded  by  a 
double  range  of  pillars,  with  an  open  area  in 
the  middle.  Adjoining  were  various  apart- 
ments, containing  baths,  and  other  conve- 
niences for  the  combatants.  The  neighbour- 
ing country  was  gradually  adorned  with  porti- 
coes, shady  walks  and  groves,  interspersed  with 
seats  and  benches,  the  whole  originally  destined 
to  relieve  the  fatigues  and  anxiety  of  the  can- 
didates for  Olympic  fame  ; and  frequented,  in 
later  times,  by  sophists  and  philosophers,  who 
were  fond  to  contemplate  wisdom,  and  com- 
municate knowledge,  in  those  delightful  re- 
treats. The  order  of  the  athletic  exercises,  or 
combats,  was  established  by  Lycurgus,  and  cor- 
responded almost  exactly  to  that  described  by 
Homer,  in  the  twenty-third  book  of  the  Iliad, 
and  eighth  of  the  Odyssey.  Iphitus,  we  are 
told,  appointed  the  other  ceremonies  and  enter- 
tainments ; settled  the  regular  return  of  the 
festival  at  the  end  of  every  fourth  year,  in  the 
month  of  July ; and  gave  to  the  whole  so- 
lemnity that  form  and  arrangement,  which  it 
preserved  with  little  variation  above  a thousand 
years  ; a period  exceeding  the  duration  of  the 
most  famous  kingdoms  and  republics  of  anti 
quity.29 

Such  is  the  account  of  Grecian  writers,  who 
have,  doubtless,  often  ascribed  to  positive  in- 
stitution many  inventions  and  usages  naturally 

19  Phlegon.  apud  Euseb. 

20  See  the  authors  cited  by  West,  in  his  Dissertation  on 
the  Olympic  Garfles. 


40 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


resulting  from  the  progressive  manners  of  so- 
ciety. When  we  come  to  examine  the  Elian 
games  in  their  more  improved  state,  together 
with  the  innumerable  imitations  of  them  in 
other  provinces  of  £Ireece,  there  will  occur 
reasons  for  believing,  that  many  regulations 
referred,  by  an  easy  solution,  to  the,  legislative 
wisdom  of  Iphitus  or  Lycurgus,  were  intro- 
duced by  time  or  accident,  continued  through 
custom,  improved  by  repeated  trials,  and  con- 
firmed by  a sense  of  their  utility.  Yet  such 
an  institution  as  the  Olympiad,  even  in  its  least 
perfect  form,  must  have  been  attended  with 
manifest  advantages  to  society.  It  is  sufficient 
barely  to  mention  the  suspension  of  hostilities 
which  took  place,  not  only  during  the  celebra- 
tion of  the  festival,  but  a considerable  time 
both  before  and  after  it.  Considered  as  a re- 
ligious ceremony,  at  which  the  whole  Grecian 
name  were  invited,  and  even  enjoined,  to 
assist,  it  was  well  adapted  to  facilitate  inter- 
course, to  promote  knowledge,  to  soften  preju- 
dice, and  to  hasten  the  progress  of  civilization 
and  humanity.  Greece,  and  particularly  Pe- 
loponnesus, was  the  centre  from  which  the  ad- 
venturous spirit  of  its  inhabitants  had  diffused 
innumerable  colonies  through  the  surrounding 
nations.  To  these  widely  separated  commu- 
nities, which,  notwithstanding  their  common 
origin,  seem  to  have  lost  all  connection  and 
correspondence,  the  Olympiad  served  as  a 
common  bond  of  affiance,  and  point  of  reunion. 
The  celebrity  of  this  festival  continually  at- 
tracted to  it  the  characters  most  distinguished1 
for  genius  and  enterprise,  whose  fame  would 
have  otherwise  been  unknown  and  lost  in  the 
boundless  extent  of  Grecian  territory.  The 
remote  inhabitants,  not  only  of  European 
Greece,  but  of  Asia  and  Africa,  being  assem- 
bled to  the  worship  of  common  gods,  were 
formed  to  the  sense  of  a general  interest,  and 
excited  to  the  pursuit  of  national  honour  and 
prosperity.  Strangers  of  similar  dispositions 
might  confirm  in  Elis  the  sacred  and  indissolu- 
ble ties  of  hospitality.  If  their  communities 
were  endangered  by  any  barbarous  power, 
they  might  here  solicit  assistance  from  their 
Grecian  brethren.  On  other  occasions  they 
might  explain  the  benefits  which,  in  peace  or 
war.  their  respective  countries  were  best  quali- 
fied to  communicate.  And  the  Olympic  festi- 
val might  thus  serve  the  purpose  of  resident 
ambassadors,  and  other  institutions  alike  un- 
known to  antiquity. 

Iphitus  did  not,  probably,  foresee  the  mani- 
fold advantages  destined  to  result  from  his 
plan.  His  main  aim  was  to  protect  the  small 
principality  of  Elis  against  the  dreaded  inva- 
sion of  more  powerful  neighbours.  This  he 
effectually  accomplished  by  fencing  it  round 
with  a wall  of  sanctity,  while  his  more  daring 
associate  fortified  Sparta  with  disciplined 
valour.  Yet  Lycurgus  had  further  ends  in 
view,  when  he  proposed  those  celebrated  laws, 
which  were  universally  admired,  but  never 
imitated.  Greece  in  that  unfortunate  age  pre- 
sented a gloomy  picture  of  domestic  discord. 
The  elevated,  though  romantic,  sentiments  of 


[Chap. 

I antiquity  had  ceased  to  prevail ; the  heroic 
, character  was  effaced ; and  the  generous,  but 
| often  destructive  expeditions  into  foreign  lands, 

; were  interrupted  by  less  daring,  but  still  more 
fatal  undertakings.  The  introduction  of  se- 
parate wealth  had  introduced  inequality  and 
ambition.  Each  petty  prince  was  desirous  to 
, exalt  his  prerogative,  and  to  extend  his  domi- 
nions. The  passions  of  neighbouring  princes 
balanced  his  desire  of  conquest.  The  resist- 
ance of  his  subjects  counteracted  his  usurpa- 
tions. Every  kingdom,  almost  every  city,  was 
| tom  by  a double  conflict ; dangers  threatened 
on  all  sides ; subjects  expelled  their  lungs,  and 
I kings  became  tyrants.2 

During  these  tumultuary  scenes,  lycurgus, 

! of  the  line  of  Procles,  and  commonly  reckoned 
the  tenth  in  descent  from  Hercules,  received 
i the  Spartan  sceptre  upon  the  death  of  his 
| elder  br  other  Poly  dec  tes;  but  the  widow  of  Po- 
i lydectes  declaring  herself  pregnant,  he  resign- 
ed the  crown,  and  assumed  the  title  of  pro- 
tector. This  delicate  attention  to  justice,  rare 
in  that  turbulent  age,  excited  just  admiration 

I for  Lycurgus,  which  was  enhanced  by  contrast. 
The  ambitious  princess,  more  solicitous  to  pre- 
serve the  honours  of  a queen  than  desirous  to 
know  the  tender  cares  of  a mother,  secretly  in- 
timated to  the  protector,  that,  if  he  consented 
to  marry  her,  she  would  engage  that  no 
posthumous  son  of  his  brother  should  disap- 
point his  hopes  of  the  succession.  Lycurgus 
feigned  to  enter  into  this  unnatural  project,  but 
exhorted  her  not  to  endanger  her  health  by 
procuring  an  abortion.  When  her  delivery 
drew  near,  he  sent  trusty  persons  to  attend 
her,  with  orders  that  if  she  brought  forth  a 
son,  the  infant  should  be  immediately  carried 
to  him.  This  command  was  obeyed,  while  he 
1 supped  with  the.  principal  magistrates  of  the 
republic.  He  received  the  child  in  his  arms, 
saying,  “ Spartans,  a king  is  bom  to  you !”  Joy- 
ous congratulations  followed,  to  commemorate 
which,  the  infant  was  named  Chaerelaus,  “the 
people's  joy.”  Notwithstanding  the  fame  re- 
dounding to  Lycurgus  from  this  transaction, 
j the  intrigues  of  the  slighted  queen  raised  a 
powerful  faction  against  him.  He  withdrew 
himself  from  the  gathering  storm  ; and,  being 
: yet  in  early  manhood,  indulged  his  inclination 
j for  visiting  foreign  countries ; an  inclination 
strongest  in  liberal  minds,  and  most  com- 
mendable in  ages  of  rudeness  and  ignorance, 
when  the  faint  rays  of  knowledge  must  be 
collected  from  an  extensive  surface. 

The  renowned  Island  of  Crete,  which  had 
given  birth  to  the  gods  and  governments  of 
Greece,  first  attracted  his  regard.  The  Cre- 
tans still  partially  adhered  to  the  laws  of 
Minos ; but  their  island  never  resumed  its 
pristine  lustre  after  the  fatal  war  of  Troy. 
From  Crete  he  sailed  to  Egypt,  and  carefully 
examined  the  civil  and  religious  polity  of  that 
ancient  kingdom.  Despising  the  terrors  of  the 
sea,  as  welj  as  the  fatigues  and  dangers  of  un- 
explored journeys  through  barbarous  or  desert 
countries,  he  is  said  to  have  reached  the  popu- 
lous and  flourishing  kingdoms  of  the  east . 


1 Piudar,  passim- 


2 Thucyd.  1.  i.  Plut  in  Lycurg. 


HIS10RY  OF  GREECE. 


41 


III.] 

nor,  could  we  trust  the  partial  evidence  of  his 
countryman  Aristocrates,3  did  the  remote  pro- 
vinces of  India  escape  his  observation.  He 
returned  by  the  coast  of  Asia  Minor,  and  ob- 
served, with  equal  astonishment  and  satisfac- 
tion, the  numerous  Greek  colonies  that  had 
risen  with  such  sudden  splendour  on  the  wes- 
tern coast  of  that  valuable  peninsula.  The 
numerous  advantages  derived  from  this  exten- 
sive view  of  men  and  manners,  moulded  by 
such  a wide  variety  of  religious,  political,  and 
military  institutions,  were  all  eclipsed  by  one 
discovery — the  immortal  poems  of  Homer,  un- 
known to  the  Dorian  conquerors  of  Pelopon- 
nesus, but  carefully  preserved  among  the 
Eolians  and  Ionians,  whose  ancestors  they 
celebrated.  Lycurgus  collected  these  invalu- 
able compositions  ; arranged  the  several  parts ; 
transcribed  and  transported  them  to  Sparta,4 
where,  after  two  centuries  of  wars  and  revolu- 
tions, the  customs  as  well  as  the  sentiments 
described  by  the  divine  poet  had  been  oblite- 
rated and  forgotten. 

Neither  the  astonishing  invention  of  Homer, 
nor  his  inimitable  fancy,  nor  the  unrivalled 
copiousness,  energy,  and  harmony  of  his  style, 
so  powerfully  excited  the  discerning  admiration 
of  Lycurgus,  as  the  treasures  of  his  political 
and  moral  knowledge,  which,  being  copied 
from  the  bright  originals  of  a heroic  age,  might 
be  employed  to  reform  the  abuses  of  a degene- 
rate indeed,  but  not  totally  corrupted,  nation. 
By  restoring,  in  particular,  the  moderate  spirit 
of  policy  which  prevailed  in  happier  times,  the 
Spartan  legislator  might  avert  the  most  immi- 
nent dangers  that  threatened  his  family  and  his 
country.  The  royal  families  of  Argos,  Athens, 
and  Thebes,  had  been  reluctantly  expelled  by 
the  resentment  or  caution  of  their  injured  or 
jealous  subjects,  who  regretted  that  the  regal 
power  was  so  apt  to  degenerate  into  a system 
of  oppression.  The  misfortunes  which  had 
abolished  the  honours,  and  almost  extinguished 
the  race  of  Atreus,  CEdipus,  Theseus,  and  so 
many  other  kings  and  heroes  of  antiquity,  must 
pursue,  and  might  soon  overtake,  the  descend- 
ants of  Hercules,  whom  the  seasonable  laws 
of  Lycurgus  maintained,  during  seven  centu- 
ries, on  the  Spartan  throne.  The  accumulation 
of  private  wealth,  together  with  the  natural 
progress  of  arts  and  luxury,  would  gradually 
render  the  possessions  of  the  Greeks  more 
tempting  prizes  to  rapacity  and  ambition,  in 
proportion  to  the  decay  of  that  courage  and 
discipline,  which  were  requisite  to  their  de- 
fence. The  fertile  plains  of  Laconia  might 

3 A pud  Plutarch,  in  Lycurg. 

4 This  fact  is  generally  acknowledged  ; yet  Plutarch  tells 
us,  that  some  writers  were  absurd  enough  to  relate  that  Ly- 
curgus lived  soon  after  Homer,  and  others,  that  he  had  ac- 
tually seen  the  divine  poet.  Homer  describes  the  Pelopon- 
nesus with  such  accuracy,  that  the  geographer  Strabo 
follows  him,  as  it  were,  step  by  step,  through  that  peninsula. 
It  is  incredible,  therefore,  that  he,  who  was  so  perfectly 
acquainted  with  that  part  of  Greece,  should  have  been 
totally  forgotten  there  soon  after  his  own  times.  Homer, 
it  has  been  often  observed,  preserves  a remarkable  silence 
about  himself;  yet  his  antiquity,  were  it  not  sufficiently 
evident  from  the  internal  proofs  above  mentioned,  might  be 
proved  from  Odyss.  1.  i.  ver.  351.  and  particularly  from 
Iliad  1.  xx.  ver.  308.  He  flourished  before  the  return  of  the 
Heracleids,  eighty  years  after  the  taking  of  Troy;  a revo- 
lution which,  had  it  happened  before  his  time,  could  not 
have  escaped  his  notice. 

F 


again  be  ravaged  by  the  arms  of  some  unculti- 
vated, but  warlike  tribe ; Sparta  might  suffer 
similar  calamities  to  those  which  she  afterwards 
inflicted  on  Messene,  and  the  alternative  of  do- 
minion or  servitude  depended  on  the  early  in- 
stitutions that  should  be  respectively  embraced 
by  so  many  neighbouring  and  independent, 
and  therefore  rival,  communities. 

The  sagacity  of  Lycurgus  thus  contemplating 
the  relations  and  interests  of  his  country  and 
his  family,  regarded  martial  spirit  and  politi- 
cal liberty  as  the  great  ends  of  his  legislation. 
These  important  objects  had  been  attained  by 
the  primitive  institutions  so  faithfully  described 
by  Homer.  Lycurgus  determined  to  imitate  the 
simple  beauty  of  that  illustrious  model;  and, 
to  the  end  that  the  Spartan  constitution  might 
enjoy  a degree  of  permanence  and  stability 
which  the  heroic  policies  had  not  possessed,  he 
resolved  to  avoid  the  rocks  on  which  they  had 
shipwrecked,  to  extinguish  the  ambition  of  dis- 
tant or  extensive  conquest,  to  level  the  ine- 
quality of  fortune,  to  crush  the  baneful  effects 
of  wealth  and  luxury;  in  one  word,  to  arrest 
the  progress  of  what  is  called  the  refinement, 
but  what  seemed  to  the  manly  discernment 
of  this  legislator,  the  corruption,  of  human 
society. 

To  form  such  a design  was  the  work  of  no 
vulgar  mind;  to  carry  it  into  execution  re- 
quired the  most  strenuous  exertions  of  perse- 
verance and  courage.  Yet,  even  at  this  distance 
of  time,  we  may  discover  several  favourable 
circumstances,  which  seasonably  conspired  with 
the  views  of  Lycurgus ; we  may  discover  in  the 
gradual  display  of  his  system,  how  the  first 
institutions  naturally  paved  the  way  for  those 
which  succeeded  them;  and  while  we  admire 
the  genius  and  the  virtue,  we  must  also  ac- 
knowledge the  dexterity  and  the  fortune,  of 
the  Spartan  legislator. 

The  experience  of  history  (and  particularly 
the  history  which  we  have  undertaken  to  record) 
attests  the  extraordinary  revolution  which  one 
bold,  wise,  and  disinterested  man  may  produce 
in  the  affairs  of  the  community  of  which  he  is 
a member.  The  domestic  disorders  which  mul- 
tiplied in  Sparta  after  the  departure  of  Lycur- 
gus, obliged  all  ranks  of  men  to  look  up  to  his 
abilities  for  protection.  The  animated  decla- 
mations of  Thales,  a poet  whom  he  had  carried 
with  him  from  Crete,  and  who  rehearsed,  with 
rapturous  ecstasy,  the  verses  of  Homer  and  his 
own,  singularly  disposed  the  minds  of  men  for 
adopting  his  proposed  regulations. 

But  neither  these  propitious  circumstances, 
nor  the  merit  of  ten  years  travel  in  pursuit  of 
moral  knowledge  and  improvement,  nor  the  ties 
of  blood,  of  friendship,  and  of  gratitude,  which 
confirmed  the  influence  of  Lycurgus  among 
the  principal  inhabitants  of  Sparta,  could  have 
enabled  this  great  man  to  establish  his  plan  of 
government,  without  the  friendly  co-operation 
of  the  Delphic  oracle;  which,  since  the  decay 
of  the  heroic  opinions  and  belief,  had  become 
the  sovereign  umpire  of  Greece.  The  Pythia 
addressed  him  in  terms  of  the  highest  respect; 
hesitated  whether  to  call  him  a god  cr  a man, 
but  rather  deemed  him  a divinity  ; approved  the 
general  spirit  of  the  institutions  which  he  pro- 


42 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


posed  to  establish;  and  promised  to  furnish 
him,  as  occasion  might  require,  with  such  ad- 
ditional regulations,  as  (when  adopted  by  the 
Spartans)  would  render  their  republic  happy 
and  immortal.  Fortified  by  this  authority,  Ly- 
curgus  proceeded  with  a daring  yet  skilful  hand, 
first,  to  new-model  the  government;  secondly, 
to  regulate  wealth  and  possessions ; thirdly,  to 
reform  education  and  manners : judiciously 
pursuing  this  natural  order  of  legislation,  be- 
cause men  are  less  jealous  of  power  than  tena- 
cious of  property,  and  less  tenacious  of  pro- 
perty itself,  than  of  their  ancient  usages  and 
customs.1 

The  first  rhetra,2  or  laws  which  he  establish- 
ed, tended  to  restore  the  mild  moderation  of 
mixed  government,  which  distinguished  the 
heroic  ages.  They  confirmed  the  hereditary 
honours,  but  abolished  the  despotism,3  of  kings : 
they  enforced  the  dutiful  obedience,  but  vindi- 
cated the  liberty,  of  subjects.  Of  the  reigning 
princes,  Chserelaus  owed  to  Lycurgus  his  throne 
and  his  life,  and  Archelaus  deemed  it  dangerous 
to  oppose  his  projects.  Instructed  by  the  fatal 
experience  of  neighbouring  tyrants,  they  were 
both  easily  prevailed  on  to  prefer  a secure, 
though  limited,  to  an  absolute,  but  precarious 
reign.  The  superstition  of  the  people  could 
not  decline  the  authority  of  the  legislator,  when 
confirmed  by  the  respected  command  of  Apollo  ; 
and  the  interest  of  the  nobles  engaged  them 
unanimously  to  promote  his  measures.  With  ’ 
this  illustrious  body,  consisting  of  twenty-eight 
chiefs,  the  most  distinguished  in  the  tribes  and 
cities  of  Lyconia,  Lycurgus  consulted  by  what 
means  to  prevent  the  political  dissensions  from 
settling  in  the  despotism  of  kings,  or  in  the  in- 
solence of  democracy.  By  his  new  regulations 
the  ancient  honours  of  the  nobility  were  con- 
firmed and  extended.  They  were  formed  into  a 
permanent  council,  or  senate,  which  examined 
all  matters  of  government  before  they  were  pro- 
posed to  the  deliberation  of  the  people.  The 
kings  were  entitled,  as  in  the  heroic  ages,  to  be 
the  hereditary  presidents  of  this  national  tribu- 
nal; w’hich,  as  in  all  important  questions,  it 
possessed  a negative  before  debate ; as  the 
members  were  chosen  for  life ; and  as,  on  the 
decease  of  any  senator,  his  son  or  nearest  kins- 
man was  naturally  substituted  in  his  stead, 
might  have  soon  arrogated  to  itself  the  whole 
legislative  as  well  as  executive  authority. 

In  order  to  counteract  this  dangerous  tenden- 
cy, Lycurgus  instituted  the  ephori,4  five  annual 
magistrates,  invested  with  a temporary  power 
to  inspect  and  control  the  administration  of  go- 
vernment, and  to  maintain  the  spirit  and  vigour 
of  the  established  constitution.  To  the  ephori 


1 The  only  dangerous  opposition  that  he  met  with,  was 
occasioned  by  his  laws  respecting  these  objects.  A tumult 
being  excited,  the  insolent  Alcander  wounded  him  in  the 
face,  by  which  Lycurgus  lost  the  sight  of  an  eye.  But  the 
persuasive  eloquence  of  the  legislator  quelled  the  sedition, 
and  his  moderation  converted  Alcander  from  a violent  op- 
poser  to  a strenuous  partisan.  Plut.  in  Lycurg. 

2 The  word  is  synonymous  with  oracula,  fata;  by  which 
names  his  laws  were  distinguished  as  the  immediate  dic- 
tates and  inspirations  of  heaven. 

3 The  difference  between  the  & xcrtKnxi,  or  royalties  of 
the  heroic  ages,  and  the  rvgccvvtSe;  of  succeeding  times,  is 
explained  by  Aristot  Politic,  et  Xenoph.  Repub.  Spart. 

4 Their  name,  denoting  overseers,  or  inspectors,  properly 

describes  their  office. 


[Chap. 

it  belonged  to  convoke,  prorogue,  and  dissolve 
the  greater  and  lesser  assemblies  of  the  people, 
the  former  composed  of  nine  thousand  Spartans, 
inhabitants  of  the  capital,  the  latter  of  thirty 
thousand  Lacedaemonians,  inhabitants  of  the 
inferior  towns  and  villages.  By  frequently 
convening  such  numerous  bodies  of  men,  who 
had  arms  in  their  hands,  they  rendered  them 
sensible  of  their  own  strength.  The  Lacedae- 
monians felt  themselves  entitled  not  only  to 
execute  the  just,  but  to  thwart  the  unjust,  orders 
of  the  senate.  Nor  was  their  liberty  endangered 
by  the  limited  prerogative  of  the  kings,  who 
monthly  exchanged  with  the  ephori  solemn 
oaths  ; the  former  swearing  for  themselves  to 
observe  the  laws  of  Sparta,  the  latter5  for  the 
people  whom  they  represented,  to  maintain  the 
hereditary  honours  of  the  Herculean  race,  to 
respect  them  as  ministers  of  religion,  to  obey 
them  as  judges  in  peace,  and  to  follow  them  as 
leaders  in  war.6 

This  equitable  distribution  of  power  was  ac- 
companied, we  are  told,  with  an  exact  division 
of  property.  At  the  distance  of  five  centuries 
it  was  the  current  tradition  in  Greece,  that 
Lycurgus  had  totally  altered  the  situation  and 
circumstances  of  his  countrymen,  by  the  intro- 
duction of  an  agrarian  law,  similar  to  that  which 
has  been  so  often,  but  always  so  ineffectually, 
proposed  in  other  republics,  as  the  surest  foun- 
dation of  liberty  and  happiness.  Yet  the  equal 
division  of  lands,  or,  in  other  words,  the  com- 
munity of  landed  property,  and  the  annual  par- 
tition of  the  harvest,  took  place  among  the  ori- 
ginal inhabitants  of  Greece,  as  well  as  among 
the  freeborn  warriors  of  ancient  Germany.  It 
may  be  supposed  therefore,  with  a high  degree 
of  probability,  that  the  Spartans,  in  the  time 
of  Lycurgus,  still  preserved  some  traces  of  their 
primitive  institutions,  and  that  their  minds  were 
comparatively  untainted  with  the  vices  of  ava- 
rice and  luxury.  T o bring  them  back,  however, 
to  the  perfect  simplicity  of  the  heroic  agets,  and 
to  prevent  their  future  degeneracy,  the  territory 
of  Laconia  was  divided  into  thirty-nine  thou- 
sand portions,  each  producing  eighty-two  me- 
dimni,  or  bushels,  of  barley,  with  a proportional 
measure  of  fruits,  wine,  and  oil.  The  rich  pas- 
ture ground  was  probably  left  in  common.  The 
kings,  as  in  the  age  of  Homer,  enjoyed  their 
separate7  domain,  conferred  by  the  voluntary 
gratitude  of  their  subjects.  The  senators,  con- 
tented with  an  increase  of  power  and  honour, 
neither  obtained  nor  desired  any  pre-eminence 
of  fortune.  Their  moderation  in  this  respect 
afforded  a salutary  example  to  the  people,  the 
greater  part  of  whom  would  naturally  be  gain- 
ers by  the  agrarian  law,  while  the  few  who  were 
rich,  for  that  relative  term  always  implies  the 


5 The  authority  of  Herodotus,  1.  i.  and  of  Xenophon  do 
Repub.  Spart.  refutes  Aristot.  Polit.  1.  ii.c.  5.  and  Plutarch, 
in  Lycurg.  The  last  mentioned  writers  refer  the  institution 
of  the  ephori  to  Theopompus,  who  lived  130  years  after 
Lvcurgus.  But  this  assertion  only  proves  that  neither 
Aristotle  nor  Plutarch  had  sufficiently  entered  into  the 
views  of  the  Spartan  legislator.  The  ephori,  as  it  appears 
from  Xenophon  and  Herodotus,  and  from  the  whole  transac- 
tions of  Sparta.,  formed  an  essential  part  of  his  plan. 

6 Xenoph.  ibid. 

7 The  tjjusvoj.  Xenophon  tells  us,  that  it  was  always 
well  watered ; it  probably  consisted,  as  in  Homer’s  time, 

>c  sc  * euf  *5,  of  plantations  and  com  land. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


43 


HI.] 

smaller  number,  submitted  without  resistance 
to  the  wisdom  of  Lycurgus,  and  the  authority 
of  Apollo. 

The  equal  division  of  land  seemed  not  alone 
sufficient  to  introduce  an  equality  in  the  man- 
ner of  life,  and  to  banish  the  seeds  of  luxury. 
The  accumulation  of  moveable,  or  what  the 
Greeks  called  invisible  property,8  might  enable 
the  rich  to  command  the  labour  of  the  poor,  and, 
according  to  the  natural  progress  of  wants  and 
inventions,  must  encourage  the  dangerous  pur- 
suit of  elegance  and  pleasure.  The  precious 
metals  had  long  been  the  ordinary  measures 
of  exchange  in  Sparta,  and,  could  we  credit  a 
very  doubtful  tradition,  had  greatly  accumu- 
'ated  in  private  hands.  Lycurgus  withdrew 
from  farther  circulation  all  this  gold  and  silver, 
a considerable  part  of  which  probably  repaid 
his  gratitude  to  the  Delphic  oracle,  while  the 
remainder  increased  the  splendour  of  the  Lace- 
daemonian temples.  Instead  of  these  precious 
metals,  the  Spartans  received  pieces  of  iron, 
which  had  been  heated  red  in  the  fire,  and 
afterwards  quenched  in  vinegar,  in  order  to 
render  them  brittle,  and  useless  for  every  other 
purpose  but  that  of  serving  as  the  current 
specie. 

Astonishing,  say  Xenophon  and  Plutarch, 
were  the  effects  of  this  operation.  With  the 
banishment  of  gold  and  silver  were  banished  all 
the  pernicious  appetites  which  they  excite,  and 
all  the  frivolous  arts  which  they  introduce  and 
nourish.  Neither  fortune-teller,  nor  physician, 
nor  sophist,  were  longer  to  be  seen  in  Sparta; 
gaudy  trinkets  and  toys,  and  all  useless  finery 
in  dress  and  furniture,  at  once  disappeared ; and 
the  innocence  and  dignity  of  Spartan  manners 
corresponded  with  the  primitive  simplicity  of 
the  iron  money.  But  to  reduce  to  the  standard 
of  truth  or  probability  this  very  fanciful  de- 
scription, it  may  be  observed,  that  the  useful- 
ness and  scarcity  of  iron  rendered  it,  in  early 
times,  a very  ordinary  and  convenient  measure 
of  exchange.  As  such  it  was  frequently  em- 
ployed in  the  heroic  ages  ;9  as  such  it  long 
continued  at  Byzantium,10  and  other  Grecian 
cities.11  The  necessity  of  cooling  it  in  acid,  in 
order  to  diminish  its  worth,  indicates  its  high 
value  even  in  the  time  of  Lycurgus.  The 
alteration  of  the  specie,  therefore,  probably  ap- 
peared not  so  violent  a measure  as  later  writers 
were  inclined  to  represent  it;  nor  could  the 
abolition  of  gold  and  silver  abolish  such  ele- 
gances and  refinements  as  surely  had  no  exist- 
ence in  Greece,  during  the  age  of  the  Spartan 
legislator.  But  it  may  reasonably  be  believed, 
that  the  use  of  iron  money,  which  continued 
permanent  in  Sparta  alone,  after  the  vices  of 
wealth  and  luxury  had  polluted  the  rest  of 
Greece,  necessarily  repelled  from  the  republic 
of  Lycurgus  the  votaries  of  pleasure,  as  well  as 
the  slaves  of  gain,  and  all  the  miserable  retinue 
of  vanity  and  folly. 

That  wealth  is  little  to  be  coveted,  even  by 
the  most  selfish,  which  neither  gratifies  vanity, 
nor  flatters  the  desire  of  power,  nor  promises 


8 Overt*  upxvq See  Lysias,  passim. 
0 Homer,  passim. 

10  Aristoph.  Nubes. 

11  Plut.  in  Lysand. 


the  means  of  pleasure.  Upon  the  smallest  ab- 
straction, if  avarice  were  at  all  capable  of  ab- 
straction, the  most  sordid  might  sympathize 
with  the  contempt  for  superfluous  riches,  which 
could  never  be  applied  to  any  purpose,  either 
useful  or  agreeable.  What  effort  could  the 
generosity  of  that  people  require  (if  the  indif- 
ference of  the  Spartans  deserve  the  name  of 
generosity,)  among  whom  all  valuable  objects 
were  equally  divided,  or  enjoyed  in  com- 
mon?12— among  whom  it  was  enjoined  by  the 
laws  and  deemed  honourable  by  the  citizens, 
freely  to  communicate  their  arms,  horses,  in- 
struments of  agriculture  and  hunting ; to  eat 
together  at  common  and  frugal  tables,  agreea- 
bly to  the  institutions  of  Crete,  as  well  as  the 
practice  of  the  heroic  ages ; to  disregard  every 
distinction  but  that  of  personal  merit ; to  de- 
spise every  luxury  but  that  of  temperance  ; and 
to  disdain  every  acquisition  but  that  of  the 
public  esteem  ? 

The  general  and  firm  assent  to  the  divine 
mission  of  Lycurgus  might  excite  the  most 
generous  and  manly  sentiments  ins  the  minds 
of  his  countrymen.  The  persuasive  force  of 
his  eloquence,  assisted  by  the  lyric  genius  of 
Thales,  a poet  worthy  of  Apollo  and  his  mis- 
sionary,13 might  enable  the  legislator  to  com- 
plete his  beneficial  and  extensive  plan.  But 
there  was  reason  to  apprehend  lest  the  system 
of  Lycurgus,  like  most  schemes  of  reformation, 
should  evaporate  with  the  enthusiasm  which 
produced  it,  unless  the  mortifications  which  it 
enjoined  were  rendered  habitual  to  practice, 
and  familiar  to  fancy.  His  laws  were  few  and 
short ; for  the  sake  of  memory  they  were  con- 
ceived in  verse ; they  were  not  consigned  to 
writing,  but  treasured  in  the  hearts  of  his  dis- 
ciples as  the  immediate  dictates  of  heaven. 
The  Lacedaemonians  were  severely  prohibited 
from  the  contagious  intercourse  of  strangers, 
except  at  the  stated  returns  of  religious  so- 
lemnities. Lycurgus,  who  had  assisted  Iphitus 
in  restoring  the  Olympic  games,  instituted 
similar,  though  less  splendid,  festivals  in  his 
native  country.  When  unemployed  in  the  se- 
rious business  of  war,  the  Lacedaemonians 
were  continually  engaged  in  assemblies  for 
conversation  and  the  gymnastic  exercises,  or 
in  religious  and  military  amusements.  Agri- 
culture and  the  mechanic  arts  were  left  to  the 
servile  hands  of  the  Helots,  under  which  ap- 
pellation were  comprehended  (as  will  be  ex- 
plained hereafter)  various  hostile  communities 
that  successively  fell  under  the  dominion  of 
Sparta,  and  whose  personal  labour  was  regard- 
ed as  the  common  property  of  the  public.14 
The  sciences  of  war  and  government  were  re- 
commended by  the  laws  of  Lycurgus,  as  the 
only  pursuits  deserving  the  attention  of  free- 
men. 

In  the  knowledge  and  practice  of  war,  the 
Lacedaemonians  (if  we  believe  Xenophon,  who 
had  fought  with  and  against  them)  far  excel- 
led all  Greeks  and  barbarians.  Courage,  the 


12  Xenoph.  in  Lysand.  c.  vi. 

13  Plut.  in  Lycurg. 

14  K*«  t goTrov  r iv*  Ss/iOij-iouj  n%ov  SovKovt.  11  And  in 
some  measure,  they,”  the  Lacedaemonians,  “ had  public 
slaves”  Strabo.  See  likewise  Aristot.  Repub.  1.  ii.  c.  5. 


44 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


first  quality  of  a soldier,  was  enlivened  by 
every  motive  that  can  operate  most  powerfully 
on  the  mind,  while  cowardice  was  branded  as 
the  most  odious  and  destructive  of  crimes,  on 
the  principle  that  it  tended,  not  like  many  other 
vices,  merely  to  the  hurt  of  individuals,  but  to 
the  servitude  and  ruin  of  the  community.  The 
Spartans  preserved  the  use  of  the  same  wea- 
pons and  defensive  armour  that  had  been 
adopted  in  the  heroic  ages;  shortening  only 
the  length,  and  thereby  improving  the  form 
of  the  sword,  which  was  two-edged,  pointed, 
massy,  and  fitted  either  by  cutting  or  thrusting 
to  inflict  a dangerous  wound.1  Their  troops 
were  divided  into  regiments,  consisting  of  five 
hundred  and  twelve  men,  subdivided  into  four 
companies,  and  each  of  these  into  smaller 
divisions,  commanded  by  their  respective 
officers  ; for  it  was  peculiar  to  the  Lacedaemo- 
nian armies  to  contain,  comparatively,  few  men 
not  entrusted  with  some  share  of  subordinate 
command.2  The  soldiers  were  attended  by  a 
multitude  of  artisans  and  slaves,  who  furnish- 
ed them  with  all  necessary  supplies,  and  ac- 
companied by  a long  train  of  priests  and  poets, 
who  flattered  their  hopes,  and  animated  their 
valour.  A body  of  cavalry  always  preceded 
their  march ; sensible  of  the  weakness  of  angles, 
they  encamped  in  a circular  form  : the  order 
of  their  guards  and  watches  was  highly  judi- 
cious ; they  employed,  for  their  security,  out- 
sentries  and  videttes ; and  regularly,  every 
morning  and  evening,  performed  their  custo- 
mary exercises.  Xenophon  has  described  with 
what  facility  they  wheeled  in  all  directions  ; 
converted  the  column  of  march  into  an  order 
of  battle  ; and  by  skilful  and  rapid  evolutions, 
presented  the  strength3  of  the  line  to  an  unex- 
pected assault.  When  they  found  it  prudent 
to  attack,  the  king,  who  usually  rose  before 
dawn,  to  anticipate,  by  early  prayer  and  sacri- 
fice,4 the  favour  of  the  gods,  communicated  his 
orders  to  charge  in  a full  line,  or  in  columns, 
according  to  the  nature  of  the  ground,  and  the 
numbers  and  disposition  of  the  enemy.  In  the 
day  of  battle,  the  Spartans  assumed  an  unu- 
sual gayety  of  aspect ; and  displayed,  in  their 
dress  and  ornaments,  more  than  their  wonted 
splendour.  Their  long  hair  was  arranged 
with  simple  elegance ; their  scarlet  uniforms, 
and  brazen  armour,  diffused  a lustre  around 
them.  As  they  approached  the  enemy,  the 

1 Vid.  Pollux,  voc.  £v>ja.oi/. 

2 Thucydides,  who  remarks  this  peculiarity,  1.  v.  p.  390. 
assigns  the  reason  of  it,  that  the  care  of  the  execution 
might  pertain  to  many.  The  whole  Lacedaemonian  army, 
except  a few,  consisted,  he  says,  in  a$%ovT£f  ae^ovTaiv, 
xai  to  t7rifjLs\sq  rou  Sg'x'psv ou  orox.x.04;  7rgo<rr,x.ei.  It  is  ne- 
cessary to  observe,  that  the  account  given  by  Thucydides, 
in  this  passage,  of  the  composition  of  the  Lacedsmonian 
armies,  differs  materially  from  that  of  Xenophon.  I have 
preferred  the  latter,  first,  because  Xenophon  writes  expressly 
on  the  subject,  of  which  Thucydides  speaks  incidentally  in 
describing  a particular  battle:  secondly,  because  the  obser- 
vations of  Xenophon  relate  to  the  age  of  Lycurgus,  those 
of  Thucydides  to  the  time  of  the  Peloponnesian  war: 
thirdly,  because,  as  will  appear  in  the  sequel,  Xenophon 
had  a better  opportunity  than  any  other  stranger,  of  being 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  aifairs  of  Lacedaemon. 

3 The  Lacedaemonian  tactics  will  be  explained  more 
particularly  hereafter. 

4 Ou  jrai>vu%»ov  suJsiv  (SouAh^ojow  avS'gx 

Ol  KXOl  £5TiT£T£a$ST««  XCtl  TOOTCt  fi.Sfl>)Ke. 

Lycurgus,  never  losing  sight  of  Homer,  converted  bis  ad 

vices  into  laws. 


[Chap. 

king  sacrificed  anew ; the  music  struck  up ; 
and  the  soldiers  advanced  with  a slow  and 
steady  pace,  and  with  a cheerful  but  deliberate 
countenance,  to  what  they  were  taught  to  re- 
gard as  the  noblest  employment  of  man.  Pro- 
per officers  were  appointed  to  receive  the  pri- 
soners, to  divide  the  spoil,  and  to  decide  the 
contested  prizes  of  valour.  Both  before  and 
after,  as  well  as  during,  the  action,  every  mea- 
sure was  conducted  with  such  order  and  cele- 
rity, that  a great  captain  declares,  that  when 
he  considered  the  discipline  of  the  Spartans, 
all  other  nations  appeared  but  children  in  the 
art  of  war.5 

But  that  continual  exercise  in  arms,  which 
improved  the  skill  and  confirmed  the  valour, 
must  gradually  have  exhausted  the  strength  of 
Sparta,  unless  the  care  of  population  had 
formed  an  object  of  principal  concern  in  the 
system  of  Lycurgus.  Marriage  was  directly 
enjoined  by  some  very  singular  institutions  ;6 
but  still  more  powerfully  encouraged  by  extir- 
pating its  greatest  enemies,  luxury  and  vanity. 
But  Lycurgus,  not  contented  with  maintaining 
the  populousness  of  Sparta,  endeavoured  to 
supply  the  past  generation  with  a nobler  and 
more  warlike  race,  and  to  enlarge  and  elevate 
the  bodies  and  minds  of  men  to  that  full  pro- 
portion of  which  their  nature  is  susceptible. 
The  credulous  love  of  wonder  has  always  been 
eager  to  assert,  what  the  vanity  of  every  age 
has  been  unwilling  to  believe,  that  the  ancient 
inhabitants  of  the  world  possessed  a measure 
of  size  and  strength,  as  well  as  of  courage  and 
virtue,  unattainable  and  unknown  amidst  the 
corruptions  and  degeneracy  of  later  times. 
The  frequent  repetition  of  the  same  romantic 
tale  renders  giants  and  heroes  familiar  and  in- 
sipid personages  in  the  remote  history  of  al- 
most every  people  : but  from  the  general  mass 
of  fable,  a just  discernment  will  separate  the 
genuine  ore  of  Homer  and  Lycurgus.  The 
laws  of  the  latter  brought  back  the  heroic 
manners  which  the  former  had  described  ; and 
their  effects,  being  not  less  permanent  than 
salutary,  are,  at  the  distance  of  many  centuries, 
attested  by  eye-witnesses,  whose  unimpeached 
veracity  declares  the  Spartans  superior  to  other 
men  in  the  excellences  of  mind  and  body.7 

Of  this  extraordinary  circumstance,  the  evi- 
dence of  contemporary  writers  could  scarcely 
copvince  us,  if  they  had  barely  mentioned  the 
fact,  without  explaining  its  cause.  But  in  de- 
scribing the  system  of  Lycurgus,  they  have 
not  omitted  his  important  regulations  concern- 
ing the  intercourse  between  the  sexes,  women, 
marriage,  and  children,  whose  welfare  was, 
even  before  their  birth,  a concern  to  the  repub- 
lic. The  generous  and  brave,  it  is  said,  pro- 
duce the  brave  and  good  ; but  the  physical 
qualities  of  children  still  more  depend  on  the 
constitution  of  their  parents.  In  other  coun- 

5  Xenoph.  de  Repub.  Spart. 

fi  Bachelors  were  debarred  from  assisting  at  the  female 
dances.  They  were  compelled  to  walk  naked  through  the 
streets  in  the  winter  solstice,  singing  a ludicrous  song, 
which  confessed  the  justice  of  their  punishment. 

7 As  to  the  mind,  the  Spartans  were,  says  Xenophon, 
tvm iSsmg o»,  aat  xiS'tftovioTigoi,  xxi  uvSti  ty'Xgxrer- 
rsgoi.  Ib.  c.  iii.  And  as  to  the  body,  &ix$ieovrx;  xxi 
xxtk  fisyeSos  xxi  xxtx  ir%vv  miS{*f  tv  njtiti- 

Atjrtr.  Ib. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


45 


IIIJ 

tries  of  Greece,  the  men  were  liberally  formed 
by  war,  hunting,  and  the  gymnastic  exercises  ; 
but  the  women  were  universally  condemned  to 
drudge  in  sedentary  and  ignoble  occupations, 
which  enfeebled  the  mind  and  body.  Their 
chief  employment  was  to  superintend,  more 
frequently  to  perform,  the  meanest  offices  of 
domestic  economy,  and  to  prepare,  by  the  la- 
bour of  their  hands,  food  and  raiment  for 
themselves  and  families.  Their  diet  was  coarse 
and  sparing ; they  abstained  from  the  use  of 
wine ; they  were  deprived  of  liberal  education, 
and  debarred  from  fashionable  amusements. 
Women,  thus  degraded  by  servility,  appeared 
incapable  of  giving  good  sons  to  the  republic, 
which  Lycurgus  regarded  as  the  principal  duty 
of  the  Lacedaemonian  females.  By  the  insti- 
tutions of  Sparta,  therefore,  the  working  of 
wool,  the  labours  of  the  loom  and  needle,  and 
other  mean  mechanical  arts,  were  generally 
committed  to  servile  hands.  The  free-born 
women  enjoyed  and  practised  those  liberal  ex- 
ercises and  amusements,  which  w$re  elsewhere 
considered  as  the  peculiar  privilege  of  men ; 
they  assisted  at  the  public  solemnities,  min- 
gled in  general  conversation,  and  dispensed 
that  applause  and  reproach,  which  dispensed 
by  them,  are  always  most  effectual.9 10  Hence 
they  became  not  only  the  companions  but  the 
judges  of  the  other  sex ; and,  except  that  their 
natural  delicacy  was  not  associated  to  the  ho- 
nours of  war,  they  enjoyed  the  benefit,  with- 
out feeling  the  restraint,  of  the  Spartan  laws. 

The  restoration  of  the  natural  rights  of  wo- 
men restored  moderation  and  modesty  in  the 
intercourse  between  the  sexes.  Marriage, 
though  enjoined  as  a duty,  could  only  be  con- 
tracted in  the  full  vigour  of  age  ; and  these 
simple  institutions  had  a more  salutary  influ- 
ence on  the  physical  improvement  of  the  Spar- 
tans, than  either  the  doubtful  expedient,  which 
prevailed  among  them  to  the  latest  times,  of 
adorning  the  women’s  apartments  with  the 
finest  statues  of  gods  and  heroes,  that,  by  fre- 
quently contemplating  these  graceful  images, 
they  might  produce  fairer  offspring ; or  the 
unnatural  and  detestable  cruelty  of  exposing 
delicate  or  deformed  children,  a practice 
strongly  recommended  by  Lycurgus,  and  si- 
lently approved,  or  faintly  blamed,  by  the 
greatest  philosophers  of  antiquity. 

Even  in  a moral  view,  the  character  of  Spar- 
tan mothers  must  have  been  highly  beneficial 
to  their  sons ; since  much  of  the  happiness  of 
life  depends  on  the  first  impressions  of  our 
tender  years.  When  boys  were  emancipated 
from  the  jurisdiction  of  women,  they  were 
not  entrusted,  as  in  other  parts  of  Greece,  to 
the  mercenary  tuition  of  slaves,  who  might 
degrade  their  sentiments,  and  corrupt  their 
morals.  The  education  of  youth,  as  an  office 
of  the  highest  confidence,  was  committed  to 
those  who  had  enjoyed,  or  who  were  entitled 
to  enjoy,  the  most  splendid  dignities  of  the 


8 This,  likewise,  was  the  business  of  women  in  the  heroic 
ages. 


AXX.ee  jeeeeXee  otivwf 

AiJeo.uai  Tfw ccf  xa i TguxSas  6X.x«<ri5r«jrXoijf , 
A</ti)x»xo;  aif,  vortyiv  aXvo'xa^ » 7ro\ifioio. 

II.  1.  vi.  ver.  443. 


republic ; after  the  example  of  ancient  times, 
when  Phoenix  educated  Achilles,  and  when 
it  was  reasonably  required  that  the  master 
should  himself  possess  the  virtues  with  which 
he  undertook  to  inspire  his  disciples.  The 
Spartan  youth  were  taught  music  and  draw- 
ing : the  former  of  which  comprehended  the 
science  not  only  of  sounds,  but  of  number  and 
quantity  : they  were  taught  to  read  and  speak 
their  own  language  with  graceful  propriety  ; 
to  compose  in  prose  and  in  verse ; above  all,  to 
think,  and  in  whatever  they  said,  even  during 
the  flow  of  unguarded  conversation,  to  accom- 
modate the  expression  to  the  sentiment.9 
Their  sedentary  studies  were  relieved  by  the 
orchestric  and  gymnastic  exercises,  the  early 
practice  of  which  might  qualify  them  for  the 
martial  labours  of  the  field.  For  this  most 
important  business  of  their  manhood,  they 
were  still  further  prepared,  by  being  inured, 
even  in  their  tender  years,  to  a life  of  hardship 
and  severity.  They  wore  the  same  garment, 
summer  and  winter ; they  walked  bare-footed 
in  all  seasons  ; their  diet  was  plain  and  frugal, 
and  for  the  most  part  so  sparing,  that  they  lost 
no  opportunity  to  supply  the  defect.  What 
they  were  unable  to  ravish  by  force,  they  ac- 
quired by  fraud.  When  their  theft  (if  theft 
can  be  practised  where  separate  property  is  al- 
most unknown)  was  discovered,  they  were  se- 
verely punished  ; but  if  their  dexterous  deceit 
escaped  observation,  they  were  allowed  to  boast 
of  their  success,  and  met  with  due  applause 
for  their  activity,  vigilance,  and  caution ; which 
indicated  a character  well  fitted  to  excel  in  the 
useful  stratagems  of  war.19 

After  attaining  the  ordinary  branches  of  edu- 
cation, youth  are  frequently  left  the  masters  of 
their  own  actions.  Of  all  practical  errors, 
Lycurgus  deemed  this  the  most  dangerous. 
His  discernment  perceived  the  value  of  that 
most  important  period  of  life,  which  intervenes 
between  childhood  and  virility ; and  the  whole 
force  of  his  discipline  was  applied  to  its  direc- 
tion and  improvement.  Instead  of  being  loosen- 
ed from  the  usfial  ties  of  authority,  the  Spar- 
tans, at  the  age  of  adolescence,  were  subjected 
to  a more  rigorous  restraint;  and  the  most 
extraordinary  expedients  were  employed  to 
moderate  the  love  of  pleasure,  to  correct  the 
insolence  of  inexperience,  and  to  control  the 
headstrong  impetuosity  of  other  youthful  pas- 
sions. Their  bodies  were  early  familiarized  to 
fatigue,  hunger,  and  watching;  their  minds 
were  early  accustomed  to  difficulty  and  danger. 
The  laborious  exercise  of  the  chase  formed 
their  principal  amusement;  at  stated  times,  the 
magistrates  took  an  account  of  their  actions, 
and  carefully  examined  their  appearance.  If 
the  seeds  of  their  vicious  appetites  had  not  been 
thoroughly  eradicated  by  a life  of  habitual  toil 
and  temperance,  they  were  subjected  to  corpo- 
ral punishment,  which  it  was  their  custom  to 
endure  with  patient  fortitude.  The  maxims 

9 In  the  smart  pithy  sentences,  or  apophthegms,  for 
which  the  Spartans  were  famous,  the  thought  is  sometimes 
elegant,  and  sometimes  ingenious;  but  their  merit  depends 
for  the  most  part  on  the  observance  of  the  rule  in  the  text. 
Sec  Plut.  Apoph. 

10  Besides  Xenophon  and  Plutarch,  see,  for  the  Spartan 
education,  Plato  in  Protagor. 


46 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


of  honour  were  instilled  by  precept,  and  en- 
forced by  example.  The  public  tables,  which 
were  frequented  by  all  ages,  served  as  so  many 
schools  of  wisdom  and  virtue,  where,  on  ordi- 
nary occasions,  but  more  particularly  on  days 
of  festivity,  the  old  related  their  ancient  ex- 
ploits, and  boasted  their  past  prowess;  those 
in  the  vigour  of  life  displayed  the  sentiments 
which  their  manly  courage  inspired ; and  the 
young  expressed  a modest  confidence  that,  by 
stedfastly  adhering  to  the  precepts  of  Lycur- 
gus,  they  might  be  enabled  in  due  time  to  equal, 
perhaps  to  surpass,  the  glory  of  both. 

But  the  desire  of  emulating  the  fame  of  their 
illustrious  ancestors  was  not  the  most  ardent 
principle  that  animated  the  minds  of  the  rising 
generation.  They  were  taught  to  vie  with  each 
other  in  every  agreeable  and  useful  accomplish- 
ment. As  they  were  publicly  educated  in 
separate  classes,  according  to  their  respective 
ages  of  childhood,  adolescence,  and  puberty,1 
their  characters  were  exactly  ascertained  and 
fully  known;  and  the  rewards  and  honours 
gradually  bestowed  on  them,  were  apportioned 
to  the  various  degrees  of  excellence  which  they 
had  previously  discovered.  When  they  attained 
the  verge  of  manhood,  three  youths  of  superior 
merit  were  named  by  the  ephori,  that  they 
might  respectively  choose,  each  a hundred  of 
their  companions,  who  should  be  entitled  to  the 
honourable  distinction  of  serving  in  the  cavalry. 
The  reasons  of  preference  and  rejection  were 
openly  explained;  and  the  youths  who  had 
been  set  aside,  became,  from  that  moment,  the 
rivals  and  opponents  both  of  the  electors  and 
of  the  elected.  At  home  and  abroad,  in  the 
assemblies  for  conversation  and  exercise,  in  the 
gymnastic  and  musical  contests,  in  their  mili- 
tary expeditions,  as  well  as  their  martial  amuse- 
ments, the  two  parties  displayed  the  utmost 
emulation  and  ardour,  the  one  to  regain  the 
equality  which  they  had  lost,  the  other  to  maid- 
tain  their  ascendant.  They  seldom  rencountred 
in  the  streets  or  walks,  without  discovering  their 
animosity  in  mutual  reproaches,  and  sometimes 
in  blows.  But  these  quarrels  were  not  danger- 
ous, either  to  the  safety  of  the  public,  or  to  the 
persons  of  individuals,  because  the  combatants 
were  obliged  to  separate  (under  the  pain  of 
punishment  and  disgrace)  at  the  peaceful  sum- 
mons of  every  by-stander;  and  the  respected 
admonitions  of  age  controlled,  on  such  occa- 
sions, the  youthful  fermentation  of  turbulent 
passions. 

The  reverence  of  aged  wisdom,  which  formed 
the  prevailing  sentiment  of  the  heroic  times, 
was  restored  by  the  legislation  of  Lycurgus, 
and  employed  as  a main  pillar  of  his  political 
edifice.  The  renovation  of  limited  government, 
the  equal  partition  of  lands,  and  the  abolition 
of  wealth  and  luxury,  had  removed  the  artifi- 
cial sources  of  half  the  miseries  and  disgrace 
of  human  kind.  But  Lycurgus  considered  his 
system  as  incomplete,  until  he  levelled  not  only 
the  artificial,  but  many  of  the  natural  inequali- 
ties, in  the  condition  of  his  fellow-citizens. 


1 I have  chosen  these  words  to  express  the  successive  ages 
of  the  wa*?,  ^t»g*x«ov,  s<pn/3os.  They  continued  ti&xwvreg 
till  46,  which  was  reckoned  bv  the  Greeks  and  Romans  the 
beginning  of  old  age.  Vid.  Cic.  de  Senectute. 


[Chap. 

The  fears  and  infirmities  of  the  old  were  com  - 
pensated  by  honour  and  respect;  the  hopes  and 
vigour  of  the  young  were  balanced  by  obedi- 
ence and  restraint.  The  difference  of  years 
thus  occasiv^-ed  little  disproportion  of  enjoy- 
ment; the  haziness  of  every  age  depended  on 
the  practice  of  lirtue ; and  as  all  adventitious 
and  accidental  distinctions  were  removed,  men 
perceived  the  importance  of  personal  merit,  and 
of  its  reward,  the  public  esteem,  and  eagerly 
grasped  the  advantages  which  glory  confers ; 
the  only  exclusive  advantages  which  the  laws 
of  Lycurgus  permitted  them  to  enjoy.  The 
paternal  authority,2  which  maintained  the  dis- 
cipline, and  promoted  the  grandeur  of  Rome, 
was  firmly  established  at  Sparta,  where  every 
father  might  exercise  an  unlimited  power,  over 
not  only  his  own,  but  the  children  of  others, 
who  were  all  alike  regarded  as  the  common 
sons  of  the  republic.  This  domestic  superiority 
naturally  prepared  the  way  for  civil  pre-emi- 
nence ; the  elective  dignities  of  the  state  were 
obtained  only  by  men  of  experienced  wisdom ; 
and  it  required  sixty  years  of  laborious  virtue 
to  be  entitled  to  a seat  in  the  senate-house,  the 
higntjn,  ambition  of  the  Spartan  chiefs.  Such 
regulations,  of  which  it  is  impossible  to  mistake 
the  spirit,  had  a direct  tendency  to  produce 
moderation  and  firmness  in  the  public  councils, 
to  control  the  too  impetuous  ardour  of  a war- 
like people,  to  allay  the  ferment  of  domestic 
faction,  and  to  check  the  dangerous  ambition 
of  foreign  conquest.  The  power  of  the  magis- 
trate was  confounded  with  the  authority  of  the 
parent ; they  mutually  assisted  and  strengthened 
each  other,  and  their  united  influence  long 
upheld  the  unshaken  fabric  of  the  Spartan 
laws,  which  the  old  felt  it  their  interest  to 
maintain,  and  the  young  deemed  it  their  glory 
to  obey.  , 

Such  were  the  celebrated  institutions  of  Ly- 
curgus, which  are  eminently  distinguished  by 
the  simplicity  of  their  design,  the  exact  adapta- 
tion of  their  parts,  and  the  uniform  consistence 
of  the  whole,  from  the  political  establishments 
of  other  countries,  which  are  commonly  the 
irregular  and  motley  production  of  time  and 
accident.  Without  a careful  examination  of 
the  whole  system,  it  is  impossible  to  seize  the 
spirit  of  particular  laws.  But  if  the  whole  be 
attentively  considered,  we  shall  perceive  that 
they  contain  nothing  so  original  or  so  singular 
as  is  generally  believed.  From  the  innumera- 
ble coincidences  that  have  been  remarked  be- 
tween the  heroic  and  the  Spartan  discipline, 
there  seems  sufficient  ground  to  conclude  that 
the  one  was  borrowed  from  the  other;  and  if 
we  accurately  contemplate  the  genius  of  both, 
we  may  discern  that  they  tended,  not  (as  has 
been  often  said)  to  stop  and  interrupt,  but  only 
to  divert,  the  natural  current  of  human  pro- 
pensities and  passions.  The  desire  of  wealth 
and  of  power,  of  effeminate  ease,  of  frivolous 
amusements,  and  of  all  the  artificial  advantages 
and  enjoyments  of  society,  are  only  so  many 
ramifications  of  the  love  of  action  and  of  plea- 
sure ; passions  which  it  would  be  impossible  to 
eradicate  without  destroying  the  whole  vigour 


2 The  “ patria  pottatas.” 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


47 


m.] 

of  the  mind.  Yet  these  propensities,  which  it 
is  often  the  vain  boast  of  philosophy  to  subdue, 
policy  may  direct  to  new  and  more  exalted  ob- 
jects. For  the  sordid  occupations  of  interest, 
may  be  substituted  the  manly  pursuits  of  ho- 
nour; the  love  of  virtuous  praise  may  control 
the  desire  of  vicious  indulgence;  and  the  im- 
pressions of  early  institution,  confirmed  by 
example  and  habit,  may  render  the  great  duties 
of  life  its  principal  employment  and  pleasure. 

Such  a condition  of  society  seems  the  highest 
elevation  and  grandeur  to  which  human  nature 
can  aspire.  The  Spartans  attained,  and  long 
preserved,  this  state  of  exaltation ; but  several 
circumstances  and  events,  which  the  wisdom  of 
Lycurgus3  had  foreseen,  but  which  no  human 
power  could  prevent,  undermined  the  founda- 
tion of  their  greatness  and  felicity.  Their  mili- 
tary prowess  gave  them  victory,  slaves,  and 
wealth ; and  though  individuals  could  feel  only 
the  pride  of  virtue,  and  enjoy  only  the  luxury 
of  glory,  the  public  imbibed  the  spirit  of  rapa- 
city and  the  ambition  of  conquest.  As  in  other 
countries  the  vices  of  individuals  corrupt  the 
community,  in  Laconia  the  vices  of  the  public 
corrupted  individuals.  This  unfortunate  ten- 
dency was  increased  by  the  inequality  of  the 
cities  originally  subject  to  the  Lacedaemonian 
laws.  Sparta,  the  capital,  contained  nearly  a 
fourth  part  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  whole  ter- 
ritory ; the  rest  were  divided  among  thirty,  and 
afterwards  eighteen,  subordinate  towns.4  The 
superior  numbers  of  the  Spartans  enlarged 
their  sphere  of  competition,  and  increased  their 
ardour  of  emulation.  They  soon  surpassed  their 
neighbours,  not  only  in  valour  and  address,  but 
in  dignity  and  in  power.  All  matters  of  im- 
portance were  decided  in  the  lesser  assembly  ; 
the  greater  was  seldom  summoned;  and  the 
members  of  the  former,  instead  of  continuing 
the  equals,  became  the  masters,  and  at  length 
the  tyrants,  of  their  Lacedaemonian  brethren. 
The  usurpation  of  power  fomented  their  desire 
of  wealth ; several  lots  were  accumulated  by  the 
same  persons  as  early  as  the  Persian  war;5  and 
the  necessity  of  defending  their  possessions, 
and  their  authority,  against  men  who  had  arms 
in  their  hands  and  resentment  in  their  hearts, 
rendered  their  government  uncommonly  rigid 

3 Lycurgus  had  formed  Sparta  for  defence,  not  for  con- 
quest. He  expressly  forbade  them  to  pursue  a flying  enemy; 
he  forbade  them  to  engage  frequently  in  war  with  the  same 
people.  Both  injunctions  were  violated  in  the  Messenian 
wars. 

4 Strabo,  1.  viii. 

5 Demaratus  told  Xerxes  that  there  were  but  eight  thou- 
sand Spartan  lots,  (Herodot.)  and  about,  a century  afterwards 
their  number  was  reduced  to  one  thousand.  Arist.  Polit. 


and  severe.  The  slaves,  the  freedmen,6  the 
tenants  of  the  Laconic  territory,  and  even  such 
of  the  inhabitants  of  the  capital  as,  on  account 
of  their  poverty,  cowardice,  or  any  other  dis- 
graceful circumstance,  were  debarred  from  the 
dignities  of  the  republic,7  testified  the  keenest 
animosity  against  the  stern  pride  of  the  Spar- 
tan magistrates,  and,  to  use  the  lively  but  in- 
delicate expression  of  Xenophon,  would  have 
devoured  them  raw.8  The  Spartans,  however, 
still  maintained  their  superiority  by  force  or  by 
fraud,  by  seasonable  compliance,  or  by  prompt 
and  judicious  severity.  By  dividing  the  strength 
they  disarmed  the  fury  of  their  enemies,  and  the 
flames  of  domestic  discord  were  eclipsed  by  the 
splendour  of  foreign  conquest,  by  which  both 
the  magistrates  and  the  subjects  were  enriched 
and  corrupted:  yet,  amidst  civil  discord  and 
political  degeneracy,  they  still  preserved  their 
religious  and  military  institutions,  as  well  as 
their  invaluable  plan  of  education ; and  their 
transactions,  even  in  the  latest  ages  of  Greece, 
will  furnish  an  ample  and  honourable  commen- 
tary on  the  laws  of  Lycurgus. 

Concerning  this  extraordinary  man,  only  one 
farther9  circumstance  is  recorded  with  any  ap- 
pearance of  authenticity ; a circumstance  highly 
descriptive  both  of  his  own  character,  and  of 
that  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  Having 
beheld  the  harmony  of  the  political  machine, 
which  he  had  so  skilfully  contrived,  he  sum- 
moned an  assembly,  and  declared,  that  now  he 
had  but  one  new  regulation  to  propose,  upon 
which,  however,  it  was  first  necessary  to  con- 
sult the  oracle  of  Delphi ; that,  meanwhile,  his 
countrymen,  who  had  seen  the  success  of  his 
labours,  would  engage  that  no  alterations  should 
take  place  before  his  return.  The  kings,  the 
senate,  and  the  people,  ratified  the  engagement 
by  a solemn  oath.  Lycurgus  undertook  his 
journey;  the  ^ oracle  predicted  the  happiness 
which  the  Spartans  should  enjoy  under  his 
admirable  laws  ; the  response  was  transmitted 
to  his  country,  where  Lycurgus  himself  de- 
termined never  more  to  return,  convinced  that 
the  duration  of  the  government  which  he  had 
established  would  be  better  secured  by  the 
eternal  sanctity  of  an  oath,  than  by  the  tempo- 
rary influence  of  his  own  personal  presence. 


6 So  I have  translated  the  word  vioSsty-uStK;,  on  the 
authority  of  Thucydides,  1.  v.  Swxrott  Js  to  vio Scc/imSbs 
iKevdsgov  >)J>j  eivxi.  The  resentment  even  of  the  freedmen 
proves  the  intolerable  severity  of  the  government. 

7 They  were  called  v7rogutovif,  inferiors,  in  opposition  to 
the  o/uoiot,  or  peers. 

8 Xenophon  Hellen.  1.  iii. 

9 Some  contradictory  traditions  concerning  his  death  are 
preserved  in  Plut.  in  Lycurg.  et  Justin.  1.  iii. 


48 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

State  of  Greece  after  the  Abolition  of  Royalty — Description  of  Laconia  and  Messenia — Causes 
of  the  War  between  those  Stales — Invasion  of  Messenia — Distress  of  the  Messenians — The 
horrid  means  by  which  they  endeavour  to  remedy  it — They  obtain  assistance  from  Argos  and 
Arcadia — Their  Capital  taken  by  the  Spartans — Issue  of  the  first  Mtsseniun  War — State  of 
Greece — The  Colony  of  Tarentum  founded — The  second  Messenian  War — Character  and 
exploits  of  A ristomenes — The  distress  of  the  Spartans — They  obtain  assistance  from  Athens — 
The  Poet  Tyrtceus — Subjugation  of  Messenia — Future  fortunes  of  its  Citizens — Their  Esta- 
blishment in  Sicily. 


TJT  AD  the  Greeks  remained  subject  to  kings, 
it  is  probable  that  they  would  have  con- 
tinued longer  to  exert  their  united  valour 
against  the  surrounding  barbarians.  The  suc- 
cessful adventures  of  the  Argonauts,  the  glo- 
rious, though  fatal  expedition  against  Troy, 
would  have  animated  the  emulation  and  the 
hopes  of  succeeding  candidates  for  fame ; and 
the  whole  nation,  being  frequently  employed  in 
distant  and  general  enterprises,  would,  through 
the  habits  of  mutual  intercourse,  and  the  na- 
tural tendency  of  military  subordination,  have 
been  gradually  moulded  into  one  powerful 
monarchy.  This  revolution  would  have  given 
immediate  tranquillity  to  Greece,  but  destroyed 
the  prospect  of  its  future  grandeur.  The  hon- 
ourable competitions  of  rival  provinces  must 
have  ceased  with  their  political  independence ; 
nor  would  the  Greeks  have  enjoyed  an  oppor- 
tunity of  acquiring,  by  a long  and  severe  ap- 
prenticeship in  arms,  that  disciplined  valour 
which  eminently  distinguished  them  above 
other  nations  of  antiquity.  In  most  countries 
it  has  been  observed,  that  before  the  introduc- 
tion of  regular  troops,  the  militia  of  the  borders 
far  excel  those  of  the  central  provinces.  Greece, 
even  under  its  kings,  was  divided  into  so  many 
independent  states,  that  it  might  be  regarded  as 
consisting  entirely  of  frontier.  Under  the  re- 
publican form  of  government,  it  was  still  more 
subdivided ; and  motives  of  private  ambition 
now  co-operating  with  reasons  of  national  ani- 
mosity, wars  became  more  frequent,  and  battles 
more  bloody  and  more  obstinate.  It  is  little  to 
be  regretted  that  scarcely  any  materials  remain 
for  describing  the  perpetual  hostilities  between 
the  Thebans  and  the  Athenians;  between  the 
latter  and  the  Peloponnesians;  between  the 
Phocians  and  Thessalians ; and,  in  general,  be- 
tween each  community  and  its  neighbours. 
The  long  and  spirited  contest  between  +he 
Lacedemonians  and  Messenians,  is  the  only 
war  of  that  age  which  produced  permanent 
effects.  The  relation  of  this  obstinate  struggle 
has  happily  come  down  to  us,  accompanied 
with  such  circumstances  as  paint  the  condition 
of  the  times,  and  answer  the  main  ends  of 
history. 

The  territories  of  Laeonia  and  Messenia  oc- 
cupied the  southern  regions  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesus. The  shores  of  Laconia  were  washed 
by  the  eastern,  or  the  Aegean ; those  of  Mes- 
senia,1 by  the  Western,  or  the  Ionian,  sea.  The 
former  country  extended  forty  miles  from  east 


to  west,  and  sixty  from  north  to  south.  The 
ground,  though  roughened  by  mountains,  like 
the  rest  of  the  Peloponnesus,  abounded  in  rich 
and  fertile  valleys,  equally  adapted  to  the  pur- 
poses of  cultivation  and  pasture.  The  whole 
country  was  anciently  called  Hecatonpolis,2 
from  its  hundred  cities.  They  were  reduced 
to  the  number  of  thirty,3  as  early  as  the  time  of 
Lycurgus.  The  decay  or  destruction  of  Helos, 
Amyclffi,  Pharis,  and  Gerontlise,  and  other  less 
considerable  towns,  gradually  increased  the 
populousness  of  Sparta,  the  capital,  situate 
near  the  centre  of  Laconia,  and  almost  sur- 
rounded by  the  Eurotas.  The  other  inland 
places  of  most  note  were  Gerenea,  Thurium, 
and  Sellasia.  The  sea-ports  were  Prasiae, 
Cyphanta,  Z arax ; Limera,  famous  for  its  vines ; 
and  Gythium,  whose  capacious  harbour  was, 
in  all  ages,  more  than  sufficient  to  contain  the 
naval  strength  of  Sparta.4  In  the  time  of  Ly- 
curgus, the  freemen,  of  full  age,  amounted  to 
thirty-nine  thousand.5  Those  of  full  age  are 
generally  reckoned  the  fourth  part  of  the  whole ; 
so  that  the  free  inhabitants  of  Laconia  may  be 
computed  at  one  hundred  and  fifty-six  thou- 
sand ; and  the  slaves,  as  will  appear  hereafter 
probably  exceeded  four  times  that  number. 

Messenia  was  less  extensive,  but  more  fertile, 
than  Laconia ; and  the  former  country,  in  an- 
cient times,  was  proportionably  more  populous. 
Both  kingdoms  were  principally  supported  by 
agriculture  and  pasturage,  their  subjects  never 
having  attained  any  high  degree  of  improve- 
ment in  arts,  manufactures,  or  commerce.  Mes- 
senia was,  however,  adorned  by  the  seaports 
of  Corone,  Pylus,  Methone,  and  Cyparyssus. 
The  most  considerable  inland  towns  were  An- 
dania,  the  ancient  capital ; the  strong  fortress 
of  Eira ; the  frontier  town  of  Ampheia;  and  the 
celebrated  Ithome,  near  to  the  ruins  of  which 
was  erected,  by  Epaminondas,  the  compara- 
tively modern  city  of  Messenc.6 

As  the  countries  of  Laconia  and  Messenia 
were  both  governed  by  kings  of  the  family  of 
Hercules,  and  both  inhabited  by  subjects  of  the 
same  Doric  race,  it  might  have  been  imagined 
that  such  powerful  connections  would  have 
disposed  them  to  continue  in  a state  of  mutual 
friendship;  or,  if  the  ties  of  blood  could  not 
excite  neighbouring  states  to  a reciprocation  of 
good  offices,  that  they  wTould  at  least  have 

2 Strabo,  1.  viii.  p.  362.  mentions  this  only  as  a hearsay ; 
but  it  has  been  always  repeated. 

3 Strabo  says,  “ about  thirty,”  and  calls  them  sroXixvai, 

oppidula,  little  towns. 

4 Strabo,  I.  viii.  p.  363,  etc.  et  Pausan  in  Lacon. 

5 Plut.  in  Lycurg. 

6 Pausan.  in  Messen.  et  Strabo,  1.  viii.  p.  360,  etc. 


1 Isocrat.  in  Archidam.  calls  the  country  Messene ; Pau- 
eanias,  Messenia. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


49 


IV.] 

engaged  them  to  maintain  an  inoffensive  tran- 
quillity. The  different  branches  of  the  family 
of  Hercules  were  induced  by  interest,  as  well 
as  persuaded  by  affection,  mutually  to  support 
each  other.  When  the  prerogative  was  invaded 
in  any  particular  kingdom,  it  was  natural  for 
the  neighbouring  princes  to  defend  the  cause 
of  royalty  ;7  and  we  find  that,  on  several  occa- 
sions, they  had  engaged  to  assist  each  other  in 
repressing  the  factious  turbulence  of  the  nobles, 
and  the  seditious  spirit  of  the  people.  But 
when  the  influence  of  the  family  of  Hercules 
declined  with  the  abolition  of  monarchy  in 
most  countries  of  Greece,  the  capital  of  each 
little  principality,  -which  always  enjoyed  a pre- 
eminence in  the  national  assemblies,  began  to 
usurp  an  unlimited  authority  over  the  neigh- 
bouring cities,  and  to  control,  by  its  municipal 
jurisdiction,  the  general  resolves  of  the  com- 
munity. Sparta  had,  in  this  manner,  extended 
her  power  over  the  smaller  towns  of  Laconia. 
The  walls  of  Helos,  whose  inhabitants  had 
pertinaciously  resisted  this  usurpation,  were 
levelled  with  the  ground,  the  citizens  reduced 
to  the  most  miserable  slavery,  and  a law  enacted 
by  the  Spartan  council,  which  forbade,  under 
severe  penalties,  the  emancipation  of  the  Helots, 
or  the  selling  of  them  into  foreign  countries, 
where  they  might  entertain  the  flattering  hopes 
of  regaining  their  lost  liberty.  The  same  ty- 
rannical spirit  -which  governed  the  measures 
of  the  Spartans,  had  taken  possession  of  their 
neighbours  the  Messenians,  and  had  urged  the 
inhabitants  of  the  capital  to  invade,  conquer, 
and  enslave  several  of  the  smaller  cities. 

While  such  ambitious  principles  prevailed 
with  both  nations,  it  was  scarcely  to  be  ima- 
gined that  the  more  powerful  should  not  exert 
its  utmost  strength  to  obtain  dominion,  and  the 
weaker  its  utmost  courage  and  activity  to  pre- 
serve independence.  Besides  this  general  cause 
of  animosity,  the  rich  fields  of  Messenia  offered 
a tempting  prize  to  the  avarice  of  the  Spartans ; 
a circumstance  continually  alleged  by  the  Mes- 
senians, as  the  principal  motive  which  had  in- 
duced their  enemies  to  commence  an  unjust 
and  unprovoked  war.  The  Spartans,  however, 
by  no  means  admitted  this  reproach.  It  was 
natural,  indeed,  that  such  differences  should 
arise  between  the  subjects  of  rival  states,  as 
might  furnish  either  party  with  a plausible 
pretence  for  taking  arms.  These  differences  it 
will  be  proper  briefly  to  relate,  after  premising, 
that,  although  the  Greek  historians  mention 
three  Messenian  wars,  the  third  had  little  re- 
semblance, either  in  its  object,  or  in  its  effects, 
to  ihe  first  and  second.  These  were  the  gener- 
ous struggles  of  a warliae  people  for  preserving 
their  hereditary  freedom  and  renown,  while  the 
third,  though  dignified  with  the  same  appella- 
tion, was  only  an  unsuccessful  revolt  of  slaves 
from  their  masters. 

On  the  confines  of  Messenia  and  Lacedaemon 
stood  an  ancient  temple  of  Diana,  which,  being 
erected  at  the  common  expense,  was  open  to 
the  prayers  and  sacrifices  of  the  two  nations. 
Hither,  according  to  annual  custom,  repaired  a 
select  band  of  Spartan  virgins  to  solemnize  the 


7 Tsocrat.  in  Archidain 

G 


chaste  rites  of  their  favourite  divinity.  A com- 
pany of  Messenian  youths  arrived  at  the  same 
time  to  perform  their  customary  devotion,  and  to 
implore  the  protection  of  the  warlike  goddess. 
Inflamed  by  the  beauty  of  the  Spartan  ladies, 
the  Messenians  equally  disregarded  the  sanctity 
of  the  place  and  the  modest  character  of  Diana, 
whose  worship  they  came  to  celebrate.  The 
licentious  youths,  after  vainly  attempting,  by 
the  most  ardent  prayers  and  vows,  to  move  the 
stern  inflexibility  of  Spartan  virtue,  had  re- 
course to  brutal  violence  in  order  to  consum- 
mate their  fatal  designs ; fatal  to  themselves,  to 
their  country,  and  to  the  unhappy  victims  of 
their  fury,  who,  unwilling  to  survive  so  in- 
tolerable a disgrace,  perished  miserably  by  their 
own  hands.s 

To  this  atrocious  injury,  on  the  part  of  the 
Messenians,  succeeded  another,  of  a more  pri- 
vate nature,  on  that  of.  the  Lacedaemonians. 
Polychares  was  a Messenian  of  noble 
* birth,  of  great  wealth,  conspicuous  for  the 
virtues  of  public  and  private  life,  and  re- 
nowned for  his  victories  in  the  Olympic  games. 
The  property  of  Polychares,  like  that  of  the 
most  opulent  of  his  countrymen,  chiefly  con- 
sisted in  numerous  herds  of  cattle ; part  of  which 
he  entrusted  to  a Lacedaemonian,  of  the  name  of 
Euephnus,  who  undertook,  for  a stipulated  re- 
ward, to  feed  them  on  the  rich  meadows  which 
he  possessed  on  the  Lacedaemonian  coast.  The 
avarice  of  Euephnus  was  not  restrained  by  the 
sense  of  duty,  the  principles  of  honour,  or  the 
sacred  ties  of  hospitality.  Having  sold  the  cat- 
tle to  foreigners,  who  often  came  to  purchase 
that  article  in  Laconia,  he  travelled  to  the  Mes- 
senian capital,  and  visiting  his  friend  Poly- 
chares, lamented  the  loss  of  his  property  by  the 
incursion  of  pirates. 

The  frequency  of  such  events  would,  proba- 
bly, have  concealed  the  fraud;  but  a slave, 
whom  Euephnus  sold  along  with  the  cattle, 
having  escaped  the  vigilance  of  his  new  mas- 
ters, arrived  in  time  to  undeceive  the  generous 
credulity  of  Polychares.  The  perfidious  Lace- 
daemonian, seeing  his  contrivance  thus  unex- 
pectedly disconcerted,  endeavoured  to  depre- 
cate the  just  resentment  of  his  friend,  by  the 
most  humiliating  confession  of  his  guilt,  and  by 
insisting  on  the  temptation  of  gain,  the  frailty 
of  nature,8 9  the  sincerity  of  his  repentance,  and 
his  earnest  desire  of  making  immediate  restitu- 
tion. Unfortunately,  indeed,  he  had  not  any 
considerable  sum  of  money  in  his  possession ; 
but  if  Polychares  would  allow  his  son  to  accom- 
pany him  to  Lacedaemon,  he  would  put  into 
the  hands  of  the  youth  the  full  price  which  he 
had  received  for  his  father’s  property.  On  this 
occasion  it  is  easier  to  pity  the  misfortune,  than 
excuse  the  weakness,  of  the  Messenian.  The 
youth  had  no  sooner  set  foot  on  the  Lacedae- 
monian territory,  than  the  traitor  Euephnus 
stabbed  him  to  the  heart. 


8 Pausrfn.  in  Messen.  p.  222.  The  Messenians  denied 
this  whole  transaction,  and  substituted  a more  improbable 
story  in  its  stead.  Pausan.  ibid. 

{)  Ei'  yctg  tjj  cf.v'jgj! 7rivv\  fgirsi,  xxi  oeXAout/,  {$’  off  &iot£a- 
/*l6x  ctSixoi  yn/iirdxi,  tx  /*iyt<rTi iv  xvxyxyiv  (%si. 

Pausan. 

Et  l'intcret  enfin  perc  de  tous  ies  crimes. 

Henriai)e. 


oO 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


The  afflicted  father,  assembling  his  friends 
and  followers,  travelled  to  Sparta,  and  implored 
the  just  vengeance  of  the  laws  against  the  ac- 
cumulated guilt  of  perfidy  and  murder.  In  vain 
he  repeatedly  addressed  himself  to  the  kings, 
to  the  ephori,  to  the  senate,  and  to  the  assem- 
bly. The  money,  the  eloquence,  the  intrigues 
of  Euephnus,  and,  above  all,  his  character  of 
Spartan,  prevailed  over  the  impotent  solicita- 
tions of  a Messenian  stranger.  Polychares, 
provoked  by  the  cruel  disregard  of  the  Lace- 
daemonians to  his  just  demands,  determined  to 
return  home ; but  having  lost  his  understanding 
through  rage'  and  despair,  he  assaulted  and 
slew  several  Spartan  citizens  whom  he  met  on 
the  road ; and  after  thus  quenching  his  resent- 
ment against  the  guilty  in  the  blood  of  the  inno- 
cent, he  was  conducted  by  the  assistance  of  his 
friends  to  his  native  country. 

He  had  not  long  returned  to  Andania,  when 
ambassadors  arrived  from  the  Spartan  senate, 
demanding  the  person  of  such  an  atrocious  and 
open  offender.  The  Messenians  assembled  to 
deliberate  on  this  request ; and  Androcles  and 
Antiochus,  who  were  jointly  invested  with  the 
regal  power,  having  differed,  as  usually  hap- 
pened, in  their  opinions,  each  prince  was  sup- 
ported by  the  strength  of  a numerous  faction. 
The  debate  was  decided  by  an  expedient  often 
adopted  in  such  tumultuary  assemblies.  Both 
parties  had  recourse  to  arms,  and  the  sedition 
being  fatal  to  Androcles,  the  opinion  of  Anti- 
ochus prevailed,  who  declared  against  deliver- 
ing Polychares  into  the  power  of  his  enraged 
enemies.  But  Antiochus,  though  he  denied  the 
unreasonable  demand  of  the  Spartan  ambas- 
sadors, dismissed  them  with  a proposal,  which 
left  them  no  room  to  complain  of  injustice. 
He  offered,  in  the  name  of  the  Messenian  as- 
sembly, to  refer  all  the  differences  between  the 
two  nations  to  the  respected  council  of  the 
Amphictyons.  This  equitable  proposal,  which 
ill  suited  the  ambitious  designs  of  Sparta,  was 
not  honoured  with  an  answer  from  that  repub- 
lic, who,  desirous  to  acquire  the  rich  fields  of 
Messenia,  prepared  for  taking  arms;  and, 
having  completed  her  preparations,  bound  her 
citizens  by  oath,  never  to  desist  from  hostility 
till  they  had  effected  their  purpose.1 

q Without  an  open  declaration  of  war 
743  (^or  ambition  had  extinguished  every 
sentiment  of  piety)  they  invaded  the 
Messenian  frontier,  and  attacked  the  small  town 
of  Ampheia,  which,  from  its  advantageous 
situation  on  a rock,  seemed  equally  proper  for 
infesting  the  enemy,  and  securing  their  own 
retreat.2  The  time  chosen  for  the  assault  was 
the  dead  of  night,  when  the  unsuspecting  in- 
habitants reposed  in  full  confidence  of  their  ac- 
customed security.  There  was  neither  sentinel 
at  the  gates,  nor  garrison  within  the  place. 
The  alarm  was  immediately  followed  by  exe- 
cution. Many  Ampheians  were  assassinated 
in  their  beds;  several  fled  to  the  altars  of  the 
gods,  the  sanctity  of  which  proved  a feeble 


1 Strabo  expresses  this  oath  strongly,  but  oddly,  'Opsa-xv- 
rig  ha  jrfSTEfov  £3T*v!)5£»v  oixstJi,  rrj ii'  a Mi <ro"<v>!V  xvi\eiv 
n rrxv rxg  *-o;«viiv.  “Having  sworn  not  to  return  home 
before  that  they  either  took  Messene,  or  that  they  all  died.” 

2 OpM T*jgiav  iwiTjjSiisv. — Pausxn. 


[Chap. 

| protection  against  the  Spartan  cruelty;  and  a 
| miserable  remnant  escaped  to  diffuse  the  me- 
j lancholy  tidings  of  their  unexpected  calamity. 

On  this  important  emergency  Euphaes,  who 
had  succeeded  to  the  throne  of  his  lather  An- 
, tiochus,  summoned  a general  assembly  of  his 
countrymen  to  the  plain  of  Steny clara ; where, 
after  hearing  the  opinion  of  others  concerning 
the  critical  situation  of  their  affairs,  he  declared 
his  own  sentiments,  vThich  were  full  of  honour 
and  magnanimity : u That  the  final  event  of  the 
war  was  not  to  be  conjectured  by  its  unfortu- 
nate beginning ; the  Messenians,  though  less 
j inured  to  arms  than  their  warlike  opponents, 
, would  acquire  both  skill  and  courage  in  pur- 
suing the  measures  of  a just  defence ; and  the 
i gods,  protectors  of  innocence,  would  make  the 
struggles  of  virtuous  liberty  prevail  over  the 
rude  assaults  of  violence  and  ambition.”  The 
discourse  of  Euphaes  was  received  with  shouts 
of  applause ; and  the  Messenians,  by  advice  of 
: their  king,  abandoned  the  open  country,  and 
; settled  in  such  of  their  towns  as  were  best  forti- 
fied by  art  or  nature,  leaving  the  remainder  to 
the  invasion  of  an  enemy,  w ith  whose  bravery 
and  numbers  their  own  weakness  was  yet  una- 
ble to  contend.  But  while  they  kept  within  their 
walls,  they  continued  to  exercise  themselves  in 
arms,  and  to  acquire  such  vigour  and  discipline, 
as  might  enable  them  to  oppose  the  Spartans  in 
the  field.  Four  years  elapsed  from  the  taking 
of  Ampheia  before  they  ventured  to  embrace 
this  dangerous  measure.  During  all  that  time, 
the  Spartans  made  annual  incursions  into  theii 
country,  destroying  their  harvests,  and  carry- 
ing into  captivity  such  straggling  parties  as 
they  happened  to  surprise.  They  took  care, 
however,  not  to  demolish  the  houses,  to  cut 
down  the  wood,  or  otherwise  to  disfigure  or 
desolate  a country,  which  they  already  regard- 
ed as  their  own. 

^ The  Messenians  on  the  other  hand,  as 

' their  courage  continued  to  increase,  were 
’ * not  contented  with  defending  their  own 
walls,  but  detached  in  small  parties,  the  boldest 
of  their  warriors  to  ravage  the  sea-coast  of  La- 
conia. Encouraged  by  the  success  of  these 
predatory  expeditions,  Euphaes  determined  to 
take  the  field  with  the  flower  of  the  Messenian 
nation.  The  army  of  freemen  was  attended  by 
an  innumerable  crowd  of  slaves,  carrying  wood 
and  other  materials  necessary  for  encampment. 
Thus  prepared,  they  put  themselves  in  motion, 
and,  before  they  reached  the  frontier,  were  seen 
by  the  Spartan  garrison  of  Ampheia,  who  im- 
mediately sounded  the  alarm  of  an  approach- 
ing enemy.  The  Spartans  flew  to  arms  with 
more  than  their  wonted  alacrity,  delighted  with 
the  opportunity,  for  which  they  had  so  long 
unshed  in  vain,  of  deciding,  at  one  blow,  the 
event  of  a tedious  war.  The  hostile  armies 
approached  with  a celerity  proportioned  to  the 
fury  of  their  resentment,  and  arrived,  with  high 
expectations,  at  the  intermediate  plain  which 
overspread  the  confines  of  the  two  kingdoms. 
But  there  the  martial  ardour  of  the  troops  re- 
ceived a check,  which  had  not  been  foreseen 
by  their  commanders.  The  rivulet,  intersect- 
ing the  plain,  was  swelled  by  the  rains  into  a 
torrent.  This  circumstance  prevented  a general 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


51 


IV.] 

engagement.  The  cavalry  alone  (amounting  on 
either  side  to  about  five  hundred  horse)  passed 
near  the  head  of  the  ravine,  and  contended  in 
an  indecisive  skirmish ; while  the  fury  of  the 
infantry  evaporated  in  empty  boasts  and  una- 
vailing insults.  Night  insensibly  came  on, 
during  which  the  Messenians  fortified  their 
camp  with  so  much  skill,  that  the  enemy,  rather 
than  venture  to  storm  it,  preferred  to  return 
home,  after  an  expedition,  which,  considering 
their  superiority  in  numbers,  appeared  no  less 
inglorious  than  ineffectual. 

The  pusillanimous  behaviour  of  the  Spartan 
army  deserved  not  the  approbation  of  tire 
senate.  The  severe  fathers  of  the  republic  up- 
braided the  degeneracy  of  the  youth,  who  no 
longer  paid  regard  to  the  sanctity  of  the  oath 
which  they  had  taken,  never  to  lay  down  their 
arms  until  they  had  completely  subdued  the 
Messenians.  The  spirit  of  the  senate  was  soon 
diffused  through  the  community ; and  it  was 
determined,  in  the  general  assembly  of  the  na- 
tion, to  prepare  for  carrying  on  a more  fierce 
W’ar  than  the  enemy  had  yet  experienced.  At 
the  approach  of  autumn,  the  season  always  pre- 
ferred for  the  predatory  expeditions  of  those 
early  times,  all  the  Spartans  of  military  age, 
as  well  as  the  inhabitants  of  the  subordinate 
towns  of  Laconia,  known  by  the  general  name 
of  Lacedaemonians,  were  ready  to  take  the  field. 
After  leaving  a sufficient  body  of  troops  for  the 
internal  safety  of  the  country,  the  number  that 
might  be  spared  abroad,  probably  amounted  to 
about  twenty  thousand  men.  This  powerful 
army  was  still  farther  increased  by  the  conflu- 
ence of  strangers,  particularly  the  Assinians 
and  Dryopians,  who  fled  from  the  cruel  tyran- 
ny of  Argos,  a republic  no  less  blameable  than 
Sparta,  for  oppressive  severity  towards  her 
weaker  neighbours.  Besides  this  reinforce- 
ment, the  Spartans  hired  a considerable  body 
of  archers  from  Crete,  to  oppose  the  horse  and 
light  infantry  of  the  Messenians.  The  manage- 
ment of  the  expedition  was  entrusted  to  the 
Spartan  kings  Theopompus  and  Polydorus; 
the  former  of  whom  commanded  the  right, 
and  the  latter  the  left  wing,  while  the  central 
division  was  committed  to  the  discretion  and 
valour  of  Euryleon,  who,  though  born  in 
Sparta,  was  descended  of  the  royal  race  of 
Theban  Cadmus. 

Ancient  writers  have  neglected  to  mention 
the  scene  of  this  second  engagement,  which 
^ q Pausanias  has,  with  more  diffusiveness 
’ than  accuracy,  described  in  his  historical 
journey  through  Messenia ; but  it  is  rea- 
sonable to  conjecture,  from  this  omission,  that 
both  the  first  and  second  battles  happened  near 
the  same  place,  on  the  extensive  plain  which 
connects  the  frontiers  of  the  two  kingdoms. 

The  Messenians  were  inferior,  both  in  num- 
bers and  in  discipline,  but  ardent  in  the  cause 
of  every  thing  most  dear  to  them.  Euphaes 
headed  their  left  wing,  which  opposed  the 
division  of  Theopompus ; Pytharatus  led  the 
right;  and  Cleonnis  commanded  the  centre. 
Before  the  signal  was  given  for  charge,  the 
commanders  addressed  their  respective  troops. 
Theopompus,  with  Laconic  brevity,  “ reminded 
the  Spartans  of  their  oath,  and  of  the  glory 


which  their  ancestors  had  acquired  by  subduing 
the  territories  of  their  neighbours.”  Euphaes, 
at  greater  length,  animated  his  soldiers  to  vic- 
tory, by  describing  the  fatal  consequences  of  a 
defeat.  “ Their  lands  and  fortunes  were  not 
the  only  objects  of  contention : they  had  already 
experienced  the  Spartan  cruelty  in  the  unhappy 
fate  of  Ampheia,  where  all  the  men  of  a mili- 
tary age  had  been  put  to  the  sword ; the  wo- 
men, as  well  as  the  children,  with  their  aged 
parents,  subjected  to  an  ignominious  servitude ; 
their  temples  burnt  or  plundered ; the  city 
levelled  with  the  ground ; and  the  country 
desolated.  The  calamities,  hitherto  confined 
to  that  little  district,  would  be  diffused  over  the 
whole  of  their  beautiful  territory,  unless  the 
active  bravery  of  Messenia  should  now,  by  a 
noble  effort  of  patriotism,  overcome  the  num- 
bers and  discipline  of  Sparta.”  Encouraged 
by  the  ardour  of  their  prince,  the.  Messenians 
rather  ran  than  marched  to  the  battle.  As  they 
approached  the  enemy,  they  threatened  them 
with  their  eyes  and  gestures,  reproaching  them 
with  an  insatiable  avidity  for  wealth  and  power, 
an  unnatural  disregard  to  the  ties  of  blood,  an 
impious  contempt  for  their  common  gods,  and 
particularly  for  the  revered  name  of  Hercules, 
the  acknowledged  founder  and  patron  of  both 
kingdoms.  From  words  oF reproach  they  made 
an  easy  transition  to  deeds  of  violence.  Many 
quitted  their  ranks,  and  assailed  the  embattled 
phalanx  of  the  Spartans.  The  wounded  spent 
the  last  exertions3  of  their  strength  in  signal 
acts  of  vengeance,1  or  employed  their  last  breath 
in  conjuring  their  companions  to  imitate  the 
example  of  their  bravery  ; and  to  maintain,  by 
an  honourable  death,  the  safety  and  renown  of 
their  country.  To  the  gei  ^rous  ardour  of  the 
Messenians,  Sparta  opposed  the  assured  intre- 
pidity of  disciplined  valour.  Her  citizens, 
inured  to  the  use  of  arms,  closed  their  ranks, 
and  remained  firm  in  their  respective  posts. 
Where  the  enemy  in  any  part  gave  way,  they 
followed  them  with  an  undisturbed  progress ; 
and  endeavoured,  by  the  continuance  of  regular 
exertion,  to  overcome  the  desultory  efforts  of 
rage,  fury,  and  despair.4 

Such  were  the  principal  differences  in  the 
sentiments  and  conduct  of  two  armies,  both 
of  which  were  alike  animated  by  the  love  of 
glory  and  the  desire  of  vengeance;  passions 
which  they  carried  to  such  a length,  that  there 
was  no  example,  on  either  side,  of  a soldier 
who  deigned  to  seek  for  quarter,  or  who  at- 
tempted to  sooth,  by  the  promise  of  a large  ran- 
som, the  unrelenting  cruelty  of  the  victors. 
Emulation  and  avarice  conspired  in  despoiling 
the  bodies  of  the  slain.  Amidst  this  barbarous 
employment,  which  custom  only  rendered  hon- 
ourable, many  met  with  an  untimely  fate ; for 
while  they  stripped  the  dead  with  the  rashness 
of  blind  avidity,  they  often  exposed  their  own 
persons  to  the  darts  and  swords  of  their  ene- 


3 Agreeably  to  the  raelancholy  firmness  of  the  advice 
afterwards  given  by  Tyrtoeus  to  the  {Spartans, 

K*i  ti;  K7ro3v>f<rx'ov  vttxt1  uxovtktxto. 

Tyrt/eus,  edit.  Glas.  p.  4.  ver.  5. 

4 The  mode  of  fighting  in  that  age  is  forcibly  described 
by  Tyrtaeus,  p.  7.  -edit.  Glttsg.  Aaa«  t*; 

mtri  to  the  end  of  the  poem. 


52 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


mies;  and  sometimes  the  dying,  by  a fortunate 
wound,  soothed  the  agonies  of  the  present  mo- 
ment, and  retaliated  their  past  sufferings  on 
their  unguarded  despoilers. 

The  kings,  who  had  hitherto  been  satisfied 
with  leading  their  troops  to  action,  and  sharing 
the  common  danger,  longed,  as  the  battle  began 
to  warm,  to  signalize  their  valour  in  single  com- 
bat. With  this  design  Theopompus,  listening 
only  to  his  courage,  first  marched  towards 
Euphaes,  who,  seeing  him  approach,  cried  out 
to  his  companions,  “ Does  not  Theopompus 
well  imitate  the  bloody-minded  Polynices,  who, 
at  the  head  of  an  army  of  strangers,  levied  war 
against  his  native  country,  and,  with  his  own 
hand,  slew  a brother,  by  whom,  at  the  same 
instant,  he  himself  was  slain  ? In  like  manner 
does  Theopompus,  with  unnatural  hatred,  per- 
secute his  kinsmen  of  the  race  of  Hercules ; but 
I trust  he  shall  meet  the  punishment  due  to  his 
impiety.”  At  sight  of  this  interesting  specta- 
cle, the  troops  were  inspired  with  new  ardour, 
and  the  battle  raged  with  redoubled  fury.  The 
chosen  bands,  who  respectively  watched  the 
safety  of  the  contending  princes,  became  insen- 
sible to  personal  danger,  and  only  solicitous  to 
preserve  the  sacred  persons  of  their  kings.  The 
strength  of  Sparta,  at  length,  began  to  yield  to 
the  activity  of  her  rivals.  The  troops  of  Theo- 
pompus were  broken  and  thrown  into  disorder; 
and  the  reluctant  prince  was  himself  compelled 
to  retire.  At  the  same  time  the  right  wing  of 
the  Messenians,  having  lost  their  leader  Py  tha- 
ratus,  yielded  to  the  exertions  of  Polydorus 
and  his  £|partans : but  neither  this  general,  nor 
king  Euphaes,  thought  proper  to  pursue  the 
flying  enemy.  It  seemed  more  expedient  to 
strengthen,  with  their  victorious  troops,  the 
central  divisions  of  their  respective  armies, 
which  still  continued  to  fight  with  obstinate 
valour,  and  doubtful  success.  Night  at  length 
put  an  end  to  the  engagement,  which  had 
proved  extremely  humiliating  to  both  parties ; 
for  next  morning  neither  offered  to  renew  the 
battle,  neither  ventured  to  erect  a trophy  of 
victory,  while  both  craved  a suspension  of 
arms,  for  the  purpose  of  interring  the  dead ; a 
demand  generally  construed  as  an  acknowledg- 
ment of  -defeat. 

Although  the  immediate  effects  of  the  battle 
were  alike  destructive  to  the  Spartans  and  to 
the  Messenians,  its  remote  consequences  were 
peculiarly  ruinous  to  the  latter.  They  were 
less  rich  and  less  numerous  than  their  oppo- 
nents; their  army  could  not  be  recruited  with 
the  same  facility;  many  of  their  slaves  were 
bribed  into  the  enemy's  service;  and  a pesti- 
lential distemper,  concurring  with  other  mis- 
fortunes, reduced  them  to  the  last  extremity 
of  distress.  The  Spartans,  mean  while,  carried 
on  their  annual  incursions  with  more  than 
usual  cruelty,  involving  the  husbandman,  with 
his  labours,  in  undistinguished  ruin,  and  de- 
stroying by  fire  and  sword  the  wretched  inha- 
bitants of  the  unfortified  cities.  The  miserable 
ravages  to  which  these  cities  were  continually 
exposed,  obliged  the  Messenians  to  abandon 
them,  and  to  seek  refuge  among  the  almost  in- 
accessible mountains  of  Ithome  ; a place  which, 
though  situate  near  the  frontiers  of  Laconia, 


[Chap. 

affo*ded  them  the  securest  retreat  amidst  their 
present  calamities,  being  strongly  fortified  by 
nature,  and  surrounded  by  a wall,  which  bid 
defiance  to  the  battering  engines  known  in  that 
early  age. 

The  Messenians,  thus  defended  against  ex- 
ternal assaults,  were  still  exposed  to  the  danger 
of  perishing  by  famine.  The  apprehension  ot 
this  new  calamity  gave  additional  poignancy 
to  the  feelings  of  their  unhappy  situation,  and 
increased  the  horrors  of  the  pestilence  which 
raged  more  fiercely  than  ever  among  men 
cooped  up  within  a narrow  fortress.  Under 
the  pressure  of  present,  and  the  dread  of  future 
evil,  their  minds  were  favourably  disposed  for 
admitting  the  terrors  of  superstition.  A mes- 
senger was  sent  to  Delphi  to  inquire  by  what 
sacrifice  they  might  appease  the  resentment  of 
the  angry  gods.  On  his  return  to  Ithome,  he 
declared  the  stem  answer  of  the  god,  which 
demanded  the  innocent  blood  of  a virgin  of  the 
royal  race.  The  Messenians  prepared,  in  full 
assembly,  to  obey  the  horrid  mandate.  The 
lots  were  cast,  and  the  daughter  of  Lvciscus 
was  declared  worthy  of  atoning,  by  her  blood, 
for  the  sins  of  the  prince  and  people  : but  the 
father,  who  was  only  a distant  branch  of  the 
royal  family,  allowed  his  paternal  affection  to 
prevail  over  the  dictates  of  both  his  patriotism 
and  his  piety.  By  his  advice,  Ephebolus,  a di- 
viner, opposed  the  sacrifice,  asserting  that  the 
pretended  princess  was  not  what  she  appeared, 
but  a supposititious  child,  whom  the  artifice  of 
the  wife  of  Lyciscus  had  adopted  to  conceal 
her  barrenness.  While  the  remonstrances  of 
the  diviner  engaged  the  attention  of  the  assem- 
bly, Lyciscus  privately  withdrew  his  daughter ; 
and,  escaping  unobserved  through  the  gates  of 
Ithome,  sought  protection,  against  the  cruelty 
of  fortune  and  of  his  friends,  among  the  unre- 
lenting enemies  of  his  country. 

He  had  already  made  considerable  progress 
in  his  journey  towards  Sparta,  when  the  dis- 
covery of  his  departure  threwT  the  Messenians 
into  great  consternation  ; nor  is  it  easy  to  de- 
termine what  might  have  been  the  effect  of 
their  superstitious  terrors,  had  not  Aristode- 
mus,  another  branch  of  the  Herculean  stock, 
and  still  less  distinguished  by  birth  than  merit, 
voluntarily  offered  to  devote  his  own  child  for 
the  public  safety.  But , this  sacrifice  was  like- 
wise opposed  by  a youth,  who,  passionately  in 
love  with  the  intended  victim,  cried  out,  that 
the  young  lady  had  been  betrothed  to  him,  and 
that  it  belonged  to  her  destined  husband,  not 
to  her  inhuman  father,  to  dispose  of  her  life  and 
fortune.  When  his  noisy  clamours  were  little 
regarded  by  the  assembly,  he  had  the  effrontery 
to  assert,  that  the  daughter  of  Aristodemus 
could  not  answer  the  condition  required  by  the 
oracle  ; that,  even  before  the  nuptial  rites  had 
heen  consummated,  she  had  pitied  the  violence 
of  his  passion,  and  that  now  she  carried  in  her 
womb  the  fruit  of  their  unhappy  loves.  Aristo- 
demus, hearing  this  declaration,  was  seized  with 
rage  and  indignation  at  the  unmerited  disgrace 
thrown  on  his  family.  “It  then  appeared,” 
says  an  ancient  author,1  “ with  what  ease  des- 


1 Pausanias,  p.  2^2.  This  might  satisfy  the  superstition 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


53 


IV.] 


tiny  tarnishes  the  feeble  virtues  of  men,  as  the 
slime  of  a river  does  the  shining  ornaments 
which  cover  its  humid  bed.”  The  angry  father 
plunged  his  dagger  into  the  breast  of  his  un- 
fortunate daughter,  and,  with  horrid  barbarity, 
opening  her  womb  in  the  presence  of  the 
amazed  assembly,  demanded  justice  on  the  in- 
famous impostor  who  had  traduced  her  virtue. 
The  Messenians  were  still  farther  irritated 
agaiiist  the  youth,  in  consequence  of  the  opi- 
nion of  Ephebolus,  who  declared  that  another 
victim  must  be  sought  to  appease  the  anger  of 
the  gods,  because  Aristodemus  had  sacrificed 
his  daughter,  not  in  obedience  to  the  oracle,  but 
to  gratify  the  impetuous  passion  of  his  own 
ungovernable  soul.  The  rage  of  the  assembly 
would  have  speedily  sent  the  lover  to  attend 
the  shade  of  his  mistress ; but  fortunately  he 
was  beloved  and  pitied  by  king  Euphaes,  whose 
authority  controlled,  on  this  occasion,  the  au- 
dacious insolence  of  a priest,  and  checked  the 
wild  fury  of  the  populace.  The  king  asserted 
that  Apollo  had  no  reason  to  complain  of  their 
disobedience : the  god  demanded  the  blood  of  a 
virgin,  a virgin  had  been  slain ; but  neither  did 
the  Pythia  determine,  nor  belonged  it  to  them 
to  inquire,  by  whose  hands,  or  from  what  mo- 
tive, the  victim  should  be  put  to  death. 

The  oracle,  thus  favourably  interpreted  by 
the  wisdom  of  the  prince,  not  only  allayed  the 
frantic  rage,  but  restored  the  fainting  hopes, 
of  the  people.  They  determined  to  defend  their 
capital  to  the  last  extremity  ; and  this  generous 
resolution,  which  they  maintained  inviolate 
during  the  course  of  several  years,  was  justi- 
fied by  obstinate  exertions  of  valour. 

The  spirited  and  persevering  efforts  of  the 
Messenians,  as  well  as  the  proud  tyranny  of 
Sparta,  tended  to  procure,  to  the  weaker  state, 
several  useful  alliances  among  the  neighbour- 
ing republics.  Of  all  the  communities  inhabit- 
ing the  Peloponnesus,  the  Corinthians  alone, 
as  a maritime  and  commercial  people,  enter- 
tained little  jealousy  of  the  Spartans;  while 
the  Argives  and  Arcadians,  from  proximity  of 
situation,  as  well  as  interference  of  interest 
and  ambition,  held  the  disciples  of  Lycurgus  in 
peculiar  detestation.  By  the  assistance  of  these 
powerful  allies,  the  Messenians  gained  con- 
siderable advantages  in  two  general  engage- 
ments ; in  the  former  of  which  their  king  Eu- 
phaes, betrayed  by  the  ardour  of  success  into 
an  unequal  combat,  was  overpowered  by  num- 
bers, and  slain  in  the  action.  The  valour  of 
Aristodemus  was  called  by  the  voice  of  the 
people  to  fill  the  vacant  throne;  and  his  conduct 
in  war  justified  the  high  opinion  entertained 
of  him  by  his  countrymen.  For  five  years  he 
baffled  the  aspiring  hopes  of  the  Spartans;  de- 
feated them  in  several  desultory  rencounters ; 
and,  in  a pitched  battle,  fought  near  the  walls 
of  Ithome,  overcame  the  principal  strength 
of  their  republic,  assisted  by  that  of  the  Co- 
rinthians. 

This  victory,  though  obtained  by  stratagem 
rather  than  by  superiority  of  courage  or  disci- 
pline, threw  the  Spartan  senate  into  the  great- 


est perplexity,  and  deprived  them  of  the  expec- 
tation of  putting  a speedy,  or  even  a fortunate, 
end  to  the  war.  In  their  distress  they  had  re- 
course to  the  same  oracle,  which  had  relieved 
the  afflictions  of  the  Messenians.  As  the  policy 
of  the  god  seldom  sent  away,  in  ill  humour,  the 
votaries  of  his  shrine,  the  destruction  of  Ithome 
was  announced  with  prophetic  obscurity.  The 
Spartans,  with  revived  hopes,  again  took  the 
field;  and  their  new  ardour  was  successful  in 
several  skirmishes  with  the  Messenians,  who, 
harassed  by  an  open,  were  still  more  fatally 
oppressed  by  a secret,  foe.  The  people  were 
again  seized  with  superstitious  terrors.  Dreams, 
visions,  and  other  prodigies  confirmed  the  me- 
lancholy prediction  of  Apollo.  The  impatient 
temper  of  Aristodemus  made  him  withdraw, 
by  a voluntary  death,  from  the  evils  which 
threatened  his  country.  The  other  leaders  of 
greatest  renown  had  perished  in  the  field. 
Ithome,  deprived  of  its  principal  support,  and 
^ ^ invested  more  closely  than  before,  was 
724  " cornPe^ec^  after  a siege  of  five  months, 
to  submit  to  the  slow  but  irresistible  im- 
pressions of  famine.  Such  of  its  inhabitants  as 
were  entitled  to  the  benefit  of  hospitality  in 
Sicyon,  Argos,  or  Arcadia,  travelled  with  all 
possible  expedition  into  those  countries.  The 
sacred  families,  who  were  attached  to  the  min- 
istry of  Ceres,  sought  a secure  refuge  among 
the  venerable  priests  of  Eleusis,  in  Attica.  The 
greater  part  of  the  people  dispersed  themselves 
through  the  interior  towns  and  villages,  en- 
deavouring, in  the  obscurity  of  their  ancient 
habitations,  to  elude  the  industrious 'search  of 
an  unrelenting  enemy.2 

The  Laceda3monians,  having  thus  obtained 
possession  of  the  Messenian  capital,  discovered 
signal  gratitude  to  their  gods,  fidelity  to  their 
allies,  and  cruelty  to  their  enemies.  Ithome 
was  demolished  to  the  foundation.  Of  its  spoil, 
three  tripods  were  consecrated  to  Amyclean 
Apollo.  The  first  was  adorned  with  the*  image 
of  Venus,  the  second  with  that  of  Diana,  and 
the  third  with  the  figures  of  Ceres  and  Proser- 
pine. To  the  Assinians,  who  had  assisted  them 
with  peculiar  alacrity  in  the  war,  the  Spartans 
gave  that  beautiful  portion  of  the  Messenian 
coast,  which  assumed,  and  long  retained,  the 
name  of  its  new  inhabitants.  They  rewarded 
the  good  intentions  of  the  Messenian  Androcles, 
who,  at  the  commencement  of  the  war,  had 
discovered  his  partiality  for  Sparta,  by  bestow- 
ing on  his  descendants  the  fertile  district  of 
Hyamia.  The  rest  of  the  Messenian  nation 
were  treated  with  all  the  rigour  of  Spartan 
policy.  They  wore  obliged  to  take  an  oath 
of  allegiance  to  their  proud  victors,  to  present 
them  every  year  with  half  the  produce  of  their 
soil,  and,  under  pain  of  the  severest  punish- 
ment, to  appear  in  mourning  habits,  at  the 
funerals  of  the  Spartan  kings  and  magistrates.3 

After  the  close  of  the  first  Messenian  war, 
Greece  appears,  for  several  years,  to  have  en- 
joyed an  unusual  degree  of  tranquillity.  Peace 
promoted  population  ; and  the  inhabitants  of 
Peloponnesus  continued  to  diffuse  their  nu- 


of  antiquity,  but  will  appear,  in  modern  times,  a poor  ex- 
cuse for  such  a shocking  barbarity 


2 Pnusan.  Mrssen.  et  Strabo,  1.  viii. 

3 Pausan.  ibid. 


54 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


merous  colonies  over  the  islands  of  Sicily  and 
Corcyra,  as  well  as  over  the  southern  division 
of  Italy,  afterwards  known  by  the  name  of 
Magna  Grsecia.1  In  this  delicious  country 
two  considerable  establishments  were  formed, 
about  the  same  time,  the  one  at  Rhegium,  and 
the  other  at  Tarentum.  Rhegium,  situate  on 
the  southern  extremity  of  the  continent,  soon 
acquired  the  ascendant  over  the  neighbouring 
cities ; and  Tarentum,  having  become  the  most 
powerful  community  on  the  eastern  coast,  had 
the  honour  of  giving  name  to  the  spacious  bay, 
which  penetrates  so  deeply  into  Italy,  that  it 
almost  unites  the  Tuscan  and  the  Ionian  seas. 

The  particular  causes  which  occasioned,  or 
the  various  consequences  which  attended,  these 
several  migrations,  are  not  related  in  ancient 
history ; the  Lacedaemonian  establishment  at 
Tarentum  was  alone  marked  by  such  circum- 
stances as  have  merited,  on  account  of  their 
singularity,  to  be  handed  down  to  succeeding 
ages. 

During  the  second  expedition2  of  the  Spar- 
tans against  Messenia,  the  army,  consisting  of 
the  greater  part  of  the  citizens  who  had  at- 
tained the  military  age,  bound  themselves,  by 
oath,  not  to  return  home  until  they  had  sub- 
dued their  enemies.  This  engagement  de- 
tained them  several  years  in  the  field,  during 
which  Sparta,  inhabited  only  by  women,  chil- 
dren, and  helpless  old  men,  produced  no  suc- 
ceeding generation  to  support  the  future  glories 
of  the  republic.  Sensible  of  this  inconve- 
nience, which,  in  a warlike  and  ambitious  state, 
surrounded  by  warlike  and  ambitious  rivals, 
might  have  been  productive  of  the  most  dan- 
gerous consequences,  the  senate  recalled  such 
young  men  as,  having  left  their  country  before 
they  had  attained  the  military  age,  were  not  un- 
der any  obligation  to  keep  the  field;  and  enjoin- 
ed them  to  associate  promiscuously  with  the 
married  women,  that  the  city  might  thus  be  pre- 
served from  decay  and  desolation.  The  children 
born  of  these  useful,  though  irregular  connec- 
tions, were  distinguished  by  the  name  of  Par- 
thenise ; probably  denoting  the  condition  of 
their  mothers.3  They  had  no  certain  father  ; 
nor  were  they  entitled,  though  citizens  of 
Sparta,  to  any  private  inheritance.  These  cir- 
cumstances kept  them  a distinct  body,  the 
members  of  which  were  attached  by  the  strict- 
est friendship  to  each  other,  and  hostile  to  the 
rest  of  the  community. 

This  dangerous  disposition  was  still  further 
increased  by  the  imprudent  behaviour  of  the 
Spartans,  who,  on  their  return  from  the  con- 
quest of  Messenia,  treated  the  Partheniae  with 
the  most  supercilious  contempt.  The  young 


1 This  name,  as  will  be  proved  hereafter,  denoted  the 
Greek  settlements  both  in  Italy  and  Sicily.  The  colonies 
there  became,  in  progress  of  time,  perhaps  more  consider- 
able than  the  mother  country.  Their  proceedings  will  be 
fully  related  in  the  following  work ; but  not  until  their 
transactions  enter  into  the  general  system  of  Grecian  po- 
litics. 

2 They  had  taken  the  same  oath  in  the  first  expedition: 
but  it  appears  from  Pausanias,  that  they  did  not  observe  it. 
The  senators  upbraided  the  youth  with  cowardice  and  con 
tempt  of  their  oath,  SsiKixv  xe *t  rou  ogxov  v?rs§ otyixv. 
Pausan.  p.  228. 

3 n«£$sv»«s.  Filius  natus  ex  ea,  quae  quum  duceretur, 
virgo  non  erat.  Aristot.  Polit.  1.  v.  c.  7. 


[Chap 

men  could  endure  poverty  and  misfortune,  but 
could  not  brook  disgrace.  Their  unhappy 
situation,  and  the  impatience  with  which  they 
submitted  to  it,  naturally  connected  them  with 
the  Helots,  those  miserable  slaves  whose  just 
indignation  ever  prompted  them  to  revolt  from 
the  cruel  tyranny  of  their  masters.  A con- 
spiracy was  formed  ; the  day,  place,  and  signal 
were  determined,  upon  which  the  Parthenise 
and  Helots,  armed  with  concealed  daggers,  and 
wuth  the  most  hostile  fury,  should  retaliate,  in 
the  public  assembly,  their  past  sufferings  and 
insults  on  the  unsuspecting  superiority  of  the 
proud  lords  of  Sparta.  The  time  approached, 
and  the  design  was  ripe  for  execution,  when 
the  president  of  the  assembly  ordered  the  crier 
to  proclaim,  That  none  present  should  throw 
up  his  cap  (for  that  had  been  the  signal  ap- 
pointed by  the  conspirators ;)  and  thus  clearly 
intimated  that  the  plot  had  been  discovered, 
and  that  the  Spartans  were  prepared  to  meet 
and  to  overcome  the  dangerous  treachery  of 
their  dependents.  We  are  not  informed  of  the 
punishment  inflicted  on  the  Helots,  or  whether, 
as  the  conspiracy  had  been  laid  open  by  one 
of  their  number,  the  merit  of  an  individual 
was  allowed  to  atone  for  the  guilt  of  the  so- 
ciety. The  Parthenise,  however,  were  treated 
with  a remarkable  degree  of  lenity,  suggested, 
probably,  by  the  fears,  rather  than  by  the  hu- 
manity of  Sparta.4  They  were  not  only  al- 
lowed to  escape  unpunished  from  their  native 
country,  but  furnished  with  every  thing  neces- 
sary for  undertaking  a successful  expedition 
against  the  neighbouring  coasts ; and  thus 
enabled  to  establish  themselves  under  their 
leader  Phalantus,  in  the  delightful  recesses  of 
the  Tarentine  gulf.5 

The  Spartans,  when  delivered  from  the 
danger  of  this  formidable  conspiracy,  enjoyed, 
above  thirty  years,  domestic  as  well  as  publie 
peace,  until  again  disturbed  by  the  revolt  of 
the  Messenians.  The  dishonourable  condi 
tions  imposed  on  that  people,  the  toilsome  la- 
bours to  which  most  of  them  were  necessarily 
condemned,  in  order  to  produce  the  expected 
tribute ; the  natural  fertility  of  the  soil,  aug- 
mented by  industry,  and  augmenting  in  its 
turn  the  populousness  of  the  country ; all  these 
causes  conspired  to  sharpen  their  resentment, 
to  embitter  their  hostility,  and  to  determine 
them,  at  every  hazard,  to  expose  their  fortune 
to  the  decision  of  the  sword.  The  negligence 
of  Sparta  was  favourable  to  the  progress  of 
rebellion.  While  she  degraded  the  Messeni- 
ans  by  the  most  humiliating  marks  of  servi- 
tude, she  allowed  them,  however,  to  rebuild 
their  cities,  to  assemble  in  the  public  places, 
and  to  communicate  to  each  other  their  mu- 
tual grievances  and  complaints.  To  reward 
the  services  of  Androcles,  the  Messeniap  king, 
she  had  bestowed  on  his  family  the  rich  pro- 
vince of  Hyamia  ; but  the  descendants  of  that 
prince  preferring  the  duties  of  patriotism  to  the 
dictates  of  gratitude,  countenanced  and  en- 
couraged the  warlike  dispositions  of  his  coun 
trymen.  The  young  men  of  Andania  longed 
to  take  up  arms.  They  were  headed  by  Aris- 


4 Ephor.  apud  Strab.  1.  vi. 


5 Pausan.  Phoc. 


IV.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


55 


^ £ tomenes,  a youth  descended  from  the 
gg _ ’ ancient  line  of  Messenian  kings,  adorn- 
ed with  the  most  extraordinary  qualities 
of  mind  and  body,  and  whose  exploits,  if  in- 
stead of  being  sung  by  Rhianus,  and  related 
by  Pausanias,  they  had  been  described  by  Xe- 
nophon, or  celebrated  by  Homer,  would  place 
him  in  the  first  rank  of  Grecian  heroes. 

In  entering  upon  this  memorable  war  the 
Messenians  consulted  the  dictates  of  prudence, 
at  the  same  time  that  they  indulged  the  mo- 
tives of  animosity  and  ambition.  Before  dis- 
covering their  intention  to  take  up  arms,  they 
despatched  messengers  to  the  Arcadians  and 
Argives,  intimating  their  inclination  to  throw 
off  the  yoke  of  Sparta,  provided  they  could 
depend  on  the  hearty  assistance  of  their  an- 
cient allies.  The  Argives  and  Arcadians  were 
naturally  enemies  to  their  warlike  and  ambi- 
tious neighbours  ; and,  at  this  particular  junc- 
ture, the  enmity  of  the  former  towards  Sparta 
was,  by  recent  injuries,  kindled  into  resent- 
ment. Both  nations  confirmed,  by  the  most 
flattering  promises,  the  resolution  of  the  Mes- 
senians, who,  wfith  uncommon  unanimity  and 
concert,  sought  deliverance  from  the  oppressive 
severity  of  their  tyrants. 

The  first  engagement  was  fought  at  Derae,  a 
village  of  Messenia.  The  soldiers  on  both 
sides  behaved  with  equal  bravery;  the  victory 
was  doubtful ; but  Aristomenes,  the  Messe- 
nian, acquired  unrivalled  glory  and  renown. 
On  the  field  of  battle  he  was  saluted  king  by 
the  admiring  gratitude  of  his  countrymen. 
He  declined,  however,  the  dangerous  honours 
of  royalty,  declaring  himself  satisfied  with  the 
appellation  of  general,  which,  in  that  age,  im- 
plied a superiority  in  martial  exercises,  as  well 
as  in  the  knowledge  of  war,  and  in  the  expe- 
rience of  command.  The  Messenian  excelled 
in  all  these,  and  possessed,  besides,  a degree  of 
military  enthusiasm,  which  as  it  was  employed 
to  retrieve  the  desperate  affairs  of  his  country, 
deserves  to  be  for  ever  remembered  and  ad- 
mired. Sensible  how  much  depended  on  the 
auspicious  beginning  of  the  war,  he  imme- 
diately marched  to  Sparta ; entered  the  city, 
which  was  neither  walled  nor  lighted,  during 
night;  and  suspended  in  the  temple  of  Mi- 
nerva a buckler,  inscribed  with  his  name,  as  a 
monument  of  his  success  against  the  enemy, 
and  an  offering  to  procure  the  good-will  of 
that  warlike  goddess. 

The  hardiness  of  this  exploit  was  rivalled 
by  the  singular  intrepidity  of  his  companions 
Panormous  and  Gonippus.  While  the  Lace- 
daemonians celebrated,  in  their  camp,  the  fes- 
tival of  their  heroes  Castor  and  Pollux,  the 
two  youths  of  Andania,  mounted  on  fiery 
steeds,  with  lances  in  their  hands,  and  a purple 
mantle  flowing  over  their  white  vestments, 
presented  themselves  in  the  midst  of  the  joy- 
ous assembly.  The  superstitious  crowd,  dis- 
solved in  mirth  and  wine,  imagined  that  their 
heavenly  protectors  had  appeared  in  a human 
form,  in  order  to  grace  the  festival  established 
in  their  honour.6  As  they  approached,  un- 


6 Pausanias,  p.  266.  However  surprising  this  credulity 
Riay  appear  in  the  oresent  age,  it  is  attested  by  the  most 


armed,  to  pay  their  obeisance  to  the  divine 
brothers  of  Helen,  the  young  Messenians 
couched  their  spears,  attacked  the  multitude 
with  irresistible  fury,  slew  them  with  their 
weapons,  or  trod  them  down  with  their  horses, 
and  before  the  assembly  recovered  from  its  sur- 
prise and  consternation,  set  out,  in  triumph,  on 
their  return  to  Andania. 

These  exploits,  and  others  of  a similar  kind, 
which  are  not  particularly  recorded,  were  suf- 
ficient to  alarm  the  fears  of  the  Spartans,  and 
to  make  them  seek  the  advice  of  Apollo.  The 
oracle,  when  consulted  by  what  means  they 
might  change  the  success  of  the  war,  ordered 
them  to  demand  a general  from  Athens ; a 
q response  highly  mortifying  to  the  high 
623  * ®Partan  spir^  as  their  own  kings,  de- 
scended from  Hercules,  were  the  con- 
stitutional commanders  of  their  armies.  In 
compliance,  however,  with  the  mandate  of  the 
god,  the  haughtiness  of  Sparta  was  obliged  to 
make  a request  which  the  jealousy  of  Athens 
durst  not  venture  to  refuse.  The  Athenians, 
when  informed  of  the  oracle,  immediately  des- 
patched to  Sparta,  Tyrtscus,  a man  who,  like 
every  Athenian  citizen,  had,  indeed,  borne 
arms,  but  who  had  never  been  distinguished 
by  any  rank  in  the  army.  He  was  chiefly 
known  to  his  fellow-citizens  as  a poet ; a cha- 
racter in  which  he  has  been  justly  admired  by 
succeeding  ages.* * 7  Among  the  Spartans,  how- 
ever, he  was  regarded  as  the  sacred  messenger 
of  the  divinity  ; and  his  verses  were  supposed 
to  convey  the  instructions  and  sentiments  in- 
spired by  his  heavenly  protector. 

The  heroic  valour  of  Aristomenes  long  con- 
tinued to  prevail  against  the  force  of  the  ora- 
cle, as  well  as  against  all  the  other  enemies  of 
Messenia.  He  defeated  the  Spartans  in  three 
successive  engagements,  the  circumstances  of 
which  are  so  similar,  that  they  have  frequently 
been  confounded  with  each  other.  They  were 
all  fought  in  the  plain  of  Stenyclara,  and  the 
most  remarkable  at  a place  called  the  Boar’s 
Monument,  from  a tradition  that  Hercules  had 
anciently  sacrificed  there  an  animal  of  that 
species.  The'Messenians  were  reinforced  by 
the  assistance  of  their  allies  of  Elis  and  Sicyon, 
as  well  as  of  Argos  and  Arcadia.  The  Spar- 
tans were  followed  by  the  Corinthians,  their 
ancient  confederates,  and  by  the  citizens  of 
Leprea,  who  chose  to  seek  the  protection  of 
Sparta,  rather  than  submit  to  the  government 
of  Elis.  The  combined  army  was  commanded 
by  Anaxander  the  Spartan  king,  whose  influ- 
ence, however,  was  rivalled  by  the  authority 
of  Hecataeus  the  diviner,  and  of  Tyrtaeus  the 
poet.  The  Messenians  had  not  a poet  worthy 
of  being  opposed  to  Tyrtaeus  ; but  the  predic- 
tions of  their  diviner  Theocles  were  able,  on 
some  occasions,  to  promote  or  to  restrain  the 
ardour  of  Aristomenes  himself. 


unquestionable  evidence.  Striking  instances  of  it  will  oc- 

cur in  later  periods  of  the  Geeek  history. 

7 Tnsignis  Homerus, 

Tyrtimisque  marcs  animos  in  martia  bella, 

Versibus  cxacuit.  ITor. 

Three  poems  of  Tyrtaeus,  containing  the  praise  of  valour, 
are  preserved  in  Stobaeus;  a fourth  on  the  same  subject,  in 
the  only  oration  now  remaining  of  Lycurgus,  the  Athenian 
orator,  the  friend  and  rival  of  Demosthenes.  A few  de- 
tached couplets  may  also  be  read  in  Strabo  and  Pausanias. 


56 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


The  success  of  the  engagement  was  chiefly 
owing  to  the  spirited  exertion  of  the  Messe- 
nian  general.  At  the  head  of  a small  band  of 
chosen  companions,  he  charged  the  principal 
division  of  the  Spartan  army,  commanded  by 
the  king  in  person.  The  resistance  was  obsti- 
nate, and  lasted  for  several  hours.  When  the 
Spartans  began  to  give  way,  Aristomenes  or- 
dered a new  body  of  troops,  to  complete  his 
success,  to  rout  and  pursue  the  enemy.  He, 
with  his  little  but  determined  band,  attacked 
a second  division  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  which 
still  continued  firm  in  its  post.  Having  com- 
pelled these  also  to  retreat,  he,  with  amazing 
rapidity,  turned  the  valour  of  his  troops  against 
a third,  and  then  against  a fourth  brigade,1 
both  of  which  giving  ground,  the  whole  army 
was  put  to  flight,  and  pursued  with  great 
slaughter.  The  merit  of  these  achievements 
was,  on  the  return  of  Aristomenes,  celebrated 
with  great  pomp  at  Andania.  The  men  re- 
ceived their  favourite  hero  with  joyous  accla- 
mations ; and  the  women,  strewing  his  way 
with  flowers,  sung  in  his  praise  a stanza  that 
has  reached  modern  times,  expressing,  with 
elegant  simplicity,  the  glorious  victory  obtain- 
ed over  the  Lacedaemonians. 

The  tribute  of  just  applause  paid  to  the  vir- 
tues of  Aristomenes,  inspired  him  with  a ge- 
nerous ambition  to  deserve  the  sincerest  grati- 
tude of  his  countrymen.  With  unremitting 
activity  he  continued,  with  his  little  band  of 
faithful  adherents,  to  overrun  the  hostile  ter- 
ritory, to  destroy  the  defenceless  villages,  and 
to  carry  the  inhabitants  into  servitude.  The 
towns  of  Pharae,  Carya,  and  Egila,  successively 
experienced  the  fatal  effects  of  Iris  ravages. 
In  the  first,  he  found  a considerable  booty,  in 
money  and  commodities  ; in  the  second,  he 
found  a booty  still  more  precious,  the  daugh- 
ters of  the  principal  inhabitants  dancing  in  the 
chorus  of  Diana,  whom  he  honourably  pro- 
tected against  the  licentious  violence  of  his  fol- 
lowers, and  restored,  uninjured,  for  the  ran- 
som offered  by  their  parents.  After  attacking 
Egila,  Aristomenes  met  with  an  unexpected 
check  from  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Spartan 
matrons,  who  were  offering  sacrifice  to  Ceres 
in  a neighbouring  temple,  long  held  in  peculiar 
veneration.  As  soon  as  they  perceived  the 
approach  of  the  enemy,  the  women,  who,  ac- 
cording to  the  institutions  of  Lycurgus,  had 
been  trained  to  all  the  manly  exercises  of  the 
other  sex,  issued  forth  from  the  temple,  and 
assailing  the  Messenians  with  knives,  hatchets, 
burning  torches,  and  the  other  instruments  of 
sacrifice,  threw  them  into  disorder,  wounded 
several  of  the  soldiers,  and  seized  the  person 
of  their  commander.  Next  day,  however, 
Aristomenes  was  delivered  from  captivity, 
through  the  good  offices  of  Archidamea,  priest- 
ess of  Ceres,  whose  susceptible  heart  had  long 
admired  and  loved  the  merit  and  renown  of  the 
brave  Messenian. 

The  amazing  success  of  the  Messenians, 

1  Pausanias  acknowledges  that  the  exploits  of  Aristo- 
menes, in  this  engagement,  almost  exceed  belief.  Pausan. 
Messen.  There  is  a remarkable  coincidence  in  the  cha- 
racter and  exploits,  as  well  as  in  the  situation,  of  Aristome- 
nes, 8nd  those  of  the  celebrated  Scottish  patriot  Wallace. 
Vid.  Buchan.  Hist.  Scot.  I.  via.  passim. 


[Chap, 

which,  in  the  course  of  three  years,  had  been 
interrupted  only  by  this  inconsiderable  acci- 
dent, disposed  the  Spartan  kings  to  abandon 
the  war,  and  to  allow  their  enemies  to  enjoy 
the  honour  and  advantages  which  they  had  so 
bravely  earned.  This  resolution  was  approved 
by  the  senate  and  assembly.  The  allies  of 
Sparta  readily  adopted  the  same  opinion. 
Tyrtaeus  alone  opposed  the  disgraceful  mea- 
sure, with  all  the  force  of  his  authority.  The 
sacred  character  of  the  bard,  with  the  divine  in- 
fluence of  his  poetry,  prevailed  ; and  the  Spar- 
tans again  entered  Messenia  with  an  army,  as 
numerous  and  powerful  as  any  they  had  before 
collected.  But  at  sight  of  the  Messenian  troops, 
headed  by  Aristomenes,  they  were  thrown  into 
new  consternation.  The  dreaded  prowess  of  their 
heroic  antagonist,  which  they  had  so  often  and 
so  fatally  experienced,  continually  presented 
itself  to  their  minds  ; and  the  inspired  arts  of 
Tyrtaeus  were  again  necessary  to  resist  the  in- 
creasing panic.  A second  time  he  revived 
their  drooping  courage,  while  he  expatiated  on 
the  glory  of  ancient  warriors ; the  magnani- 
mity of  despising  fortune ; the  praise  and  ho- 
nours of  valour  ; the  joys  and  rewards  of  vic- 
tory.2 These  sentiments,  dictated  by  the  true 
spirit  of  heroism,  fired  their  minds  with  martial 
ardour.  Disregarding  the  sweets  of  life,  they 
longed  for  an  honourable  death.  One  consider- 
ation only  (such  was  the  superstition  of  ancient 
times)  damped  the  generous  warmth  that  ani- 
mated their  souls.  In  an  engagement,  which 
there  was  every  reason  to  believe  would  be 
fought  with  the  most  obstinate  valour  on  both 
sides,  what  crowds  of  warriors  must  fall,  whose 
bodies,  heaped  together  in  horrid  confusion, 
could  not  be  recognised  by  their  friends,  or  ob- 
tain, with  due  solemnity,  the  sacred  rights  of 
funeral ! This  melancholy  thought,  which 
chilled  the  boldest  heart  with  religious  horror, 
might  have  formed  an  insurmountable  obsta- 
cle to  their  success,  had  not  their  terrors  been 
removed  by  the  prudent  missionary  of  Apollo. 
By  the  advice  of  Tyrtaeus,  each  soldier  tied  a 
token,  inscribed  with  his  name  and  designation, 
round  his  right  arm,  by  means  of  which  his 
body,  however  disfigured,3  might  be  known  to 
his  friends  and  kindred.  Thus  fortified  against 
the  only  illusion  that  could  alarm  the  minds 
of  men  who  preferred  death  to  a defeat,  they 
rushed  forward  to  attack  their  dreaded,  and 
hitherto  victorious,  foes. 

The  Messenian  general  had  drawn  up  his 
forces  at  a place  called  the  Great  Ditch,  from 
which  this  engagement  has  been  called  the 
battle  of  the  Trenches.4  The  national  strength 
was  reinforced  by  a considerable  body  of  Arca- 
dian troops,  commanded  by  their  king  Aristo- 
crates,  to  whose  treachery,  as  much  as  to  their 
own  valour,  the  Spartans  were  indebted  for 
the  victory. 

The  Spartans,  though  possessed  of  little  pri- 
vate wealth, had  a considerable  public  treasure, 
with  which  they  early  began  to  bribe  those 
whom  they  despaired  to  conquer.  With  this, 
perhaps,  on  many  former  occasions,  they  had 

2 Tyrtaeus,  p.  2 and  3.  edit.  Glasg. 

3 ConfVisa  corporum  lineamenta.  Justin. 

4 Polybius,  1.  iv  Strabo,  1.  viii. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


57 


IV.] 

.erupted  the  avarice  of  Aristocrates,  who,  from 
want  of  opportunity  rather  than  of  inclination 
to  betray,  had  hitherto  maintained  his  fidelity 
inviolate.  But  when  he  perceived  the  unusual 
ardour  which  animated  the  enemy ; and  reflect- 
ed, that  if,  without  his  concurrence,  victory 
should  declare  itself  on  their  side,  he  might 
for  ever  be  deprived  of  an  occasion  to  earn  the 
wages  of  his  intended  iniquity,  he  determined 
to  abandon  his  ancient  allies,  and  to  ensure 
success  to  the  Lacedaemonians.  In  sight  of  the 
two  armies  he  explained  and  exaggerated  to 
his  troops  the  advantageous  position  of  the 
Spartans ; the  difficulty  of  a retreat,  in  case 
they  themselves  were  obliged  to  give  ground ; 
and  the  inauspicious  omens  which  threatened 
destruction  to  Messene.  In  order  to  avoid  the 
ruin  ready ,to  overtake  the  allies,  he  command- 
ed his  men  to  be  prepared  to  follow  him  on  the 
first  signal  for  the  engagement.  When  the 
charge  was  sounded,  and  the  Messenians  were 
preparing  to  resist  the  first  onset  of  the  enemy, 
Aristocrates  led  off  his  Arcadians  ; and,  to 
make  his  defection  more  apparent,  crossed  the 
whole  Messenian  army.  The  Messenians, 
confounded  with  a treachery  so  bold  and  ma-. 
nifest,  almost  forgot  that  they  were  contending 
against  the  Spartans.  Many  forsook  their 
ranks,  and  ran  after  the  Arcadians,  sometimes 
conjuring  them  to  return  to  their  duty,  and 
sometimes  reproaching  them  with  their  perfi- 
dious ingratitude.  Their  entreaties  and  insults 
were  alike  vain ; their  army  was  surrounded 
almost  on  every  side ; the  little  band  of  Aris- 
tomenes  alone,  with  pertinacious  valour,  re- 
sisting the  efforts,  and  breaking  through  the 
embattled  squadrons  of  the  enemy.  Their 
example  encouraged  others  of  their  country- 
men to  effect  an  escape  by  equal  bravery  ; but, 
in  attempting  this  dangerous  measure,  the 
greater  part  of  the  soldiers  perished,  as  well 
as  the  generals  Androcles,  Phintas,  and  Phanas, 
persons  descended  from  the  ancient  stock  of 
Messenian  nobility,  and  who,  next  to  Aristo- 
menes,  formed  the  principal  ornament  and  de- 
fence of  their  declining  country. 

Among  the  republics  of  ancient  Greece,  the 
fate  of  a nation  often  depended  on  the  event 
of  a battle.  The  contention  was  not  between 
mercenary  troops,  who  regarded  war  as  a trade, 
which  they  carried  on  merely  from  interest, 
without  emulation  or  resentment.  The  citi- 
zens of  free  communities  fought  for  their  liber- 
ties and  fortunes,  their  wives  and  children,  and 
for  every  object  held  dear  or  valuable  among 
men.  In  such  a struggle  they  exerted  the  ut- 
most efforts  of  their  animosity  as  well  as  of 
their  strength ; nor  did  the  conflict  cease,  till 
the  one  party  had  reduced  the  other  to  extre- 
mity. It  was  not  extraordinary,  therefore, 
that  after  the  bloody  battle  of  the  Trenches, 
the  Messenians  should  be  unable  to  keep  the 
field.  Aristomencs,  however,  determined,  while 
he  preserved  his  life,  to  maintain  his  indepen- 
dence. With  this  view  he  collected  the  mise- 
rable remains  of  his  unfortunate  troops ; as- 
sembled the  scattered  inhabitants  of  the  open 
country ; abandoned  the  cities  and  villages  on 
the  plain,  to  the  mercy  of  the  victors;  and 
seized  with  his  little  army,  the  strong  fortress 
H 


of  Eira,  situate  among  the  mountains  which 
rise  along  the  southern  shore  of  Messenia,  de- 
fended on  the  north  by  the  river  Neda,  and 
open  only  on  the  south  towards  the  harbours 
of  Pylus  and  Methone,  which  offered  it  a plen- 
tiful supply  of  corn,  fish,  and  other  necessary 
provisons. 

A q In  this  situation  the  gallant  Mes- 

gp‘o  <3171  senian  resisted,  for  eleven  years, 
‘ the  efforts  of  the  Spartans,  who 
endeavoured,  with  unremitting  industry,  to  be- 
come masters  of  the  fortress.  Nor  was  he  sa- 
tisfied with  defending  the  place ; on  various 
occasions  he  made  vigorous  and  successful  sal- 
lies against  the  besiegers.  With  a body  of 
three  hundred  Messenians,  of  tried  valour  and 
fidelity,  he,  at  different  times,  over-ran  the 
Spartan  territories,  and  plundered  such  cities 
as  were  either  weakly  garrisoned  or  negligently 
defended.  In  order  to  put  a stop  to  incursions 
equally  dishonourable  and  destructive,  the 
Spartans  ordered  their  frontier  to  be  laid  waste, 
and  thus  rendered  incapable  of  affording  sub- 
sistence to  the  enemy.  But  they  themselves 
were  the  first  to  feel  the  inconveniency  of  this 
measure.  As  the  lands  towards  that  frontier 
were  the  most  fertile  in  the  province,  and  the 
crops  in  other  parts  had  failed  through  the  in- 
clemency of  the  season,  the  Spartans  were 
threatened  with  all  the  calamities  of  famine ; 
to  which  the  proprietors  of  the  wasted  grounds, 
deprived  of  their  harvests  by  a rigorous  injunc- 
tion of  the  state,  were  prepared  to  add  the  hor- 
rors of  a sedition.  Tyrtaeus  displayed,  on  this 
occasion,  the  wonderful  power  of  his  art,  by 
appeasing  the  angry  tumult,  and  teaching  the 
Spartans  patiently  to  bear,  in  the  service  of 
their  country,  the  loss  of  fortune,  as  well  as 
of  life. 

While  the  enemy  were  disturbed  by  these 
commotions,  Aristomenes  set  out  from  Eira, 
with  his  favourite  band,  and,  marching  all 
night,  arrived  by  day-break  at  Amyclae,  a La- 
cedaemonian city,  situate  on  the  banks  of  the 
Eurotas,at  the  distance  of  a few  miles  from  the 
capital.  Having  entered  the  place  without  re- 
sistance, he  carried  off  a considerable  booty  in 
slaves  and  merchandise,  and  returned  to  his 
mountains,  before  the  Spartans,  though  ap- 
prised of  his  incursion,  could  arrive  to  the  as- 
sistance of  their  neighbours. 

A continued  series  of  such  exploits,  carried 
on  with  equal  success,  inspired  into  the  Messe- 
nians a degree  of  confidence,  which  had  almost 
proved  fatal  to  their  cause.  Neglecting  that 
celerity,  and  those  precautions,  to  which  they 
owed  their  past  advantages,  they  began  to  con- 
tinue so  long  in  the  field,  that  the  Spartans 
found  an  opportunity  to  intercept  their  return. 
The  little  band  of  Aristomenes  behaved  with 
its  usual  gallantry,  and  long  defended  itself 
against  far  superior  numbers,  headed  by  the 
two  kings  of  Sparta.  The  commander,  after 
receiving  many  wounds,  was  taken  prisoner ; 
and,  with  fifty  of  his  bravest  companions,  car- 
ried in  chains  to  the  Lacedaemonian  capital. 
The  resentment  of  that  republic  against  those 
who  had  inflicted  on  her  such  dreadful  calami- 
ties, was  not  to  be  gratified  by  an  ordinary 
punishment.  After  much  deliberation,  the  pri- 


58 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


soners  were  tlirown,  alive,  into  the  Ceada ; a [ 
profound  cavern,  which  was  commonly  em- 
ployed as  a receptacle  for  the  most  atrocious 
criminals.  All  the  companions  of  Aristomenes 
were  tilled  by  the  fall ; he  alone  was  preserved 
by  an  accident,  which  though  natural  enough 
in  itself,  has  been  disfigured  by  many  fabulous 
circumstances.1  The  Spartans,  who  loved  va- 
lour even  in  an  enemy,  permitted  him,  at  his 
earnest  desire,  to  be  buried  with  his  shield  ; a 
weapon  of  defence  held  in  peculiar  veneration 
by  the  Grecian  soldiers.  As  he  descended  into 
the  deep  cavity,  the  edge  or  boss  of  his  ample 
buckler,  striking  against  the  sides  of  the  pit, 
broke  the  force  of  the  fall,  and  saved  his  life. 
Two  days  he  continued  in  this  miserable  dun- 
geon, amidst  the  stench  and  horror  of  dead 
bodies,  his  face  covered  with  his  cloak,  waiting 
the  slow  approaches  of  certain  death.  The 
third  day  (at  day-break)  he  heard  a noise,  and 
looking  up,  perceived  a fox  devouring  the 
mangled  remains  of  his  companions.  He  al- 
lowed the  animal  to  approach  him,  and  catch- 
ing hold  of  it  with  one  hand,  while  he  defend- 
ed himself  against  its  bite  with  the  other,  he 
determined  to  follow  wherever  it  should  con- 
duct him.  The  fox  drew,  towards  a chink  in 
the  rock,  by  which  he  had  entered  the  cavity, 
and  through  which  he  intended  to  get  out. 
Aristomenes  then  gave  liberty  to  his  guide, 
whom  he  followed  with  much  difficulty, 
scrambling  through  the  passage  which  had 
been  opened  for  his  deliverance.  He  imme- 
diately took  the  road  of  Eira,  and  was  received 
with  pleasing  astonishment  among  his  trans- 
ported companions. 

The  news  of  his  wonderful  escape  was  soon 
conveyed  to  Sparta  by  some  Messenian  de- 
serters, whose  information  on  such  a subject 
was  not  more  credited,  than  if  they  had  brought 
intelligence  of  one  risen  from  the  dead.  But, 
in  the  space  of  a few  days,  the  exploits  of  Aris- 
tomenes convinced  the  incredulity  of  the  Spar- 
tans. He  was  informed  by  his  scouts,  that  the 
Corinthians  had  sent  a powerful  reinforcement 
to  the  besiegers ; that  these  troops  were  still  on 
their  march,  observing  no  order  or  discipline  in 
the  day,  and  encamping  during  night  without 
guards  or  sentinels.  A general  less  active  and 
less  enterprising,  would  not  have  neglected  so 
favourable  an  occasion  of  annoying  the  enemy. 
But  Aristomenes  alone  was  capable  of  effecting 
this  purpose  by  the  means  which  were  now  em- 
ployed. That  no  appearance  of  danger  might 
alarm  the  negligence  of  the  Corinthians,  he  set 
out  unattended,2  waited  their  approach  in  con- 
cealment, attacked  the  camp  in  the  dead  of 
night,  marked  his  route  with  blood,  and  re- 
turning loaded  with  spoils  to  Eira,  offered  to 
Messenian  Jove  the  Hccatomphonia ; a sacrifice 
of  a hundred  victims,  which  he  alone  was  en- 
titled to  perform,  who  with  his  own  hand  had 
killed  a hundred  of  his  enemies.  This  was  the 


1 An  eagle,  it  is  said,  flaw  to  his  relief,  which  arose  from 
his  having  a spread  eagle  on  his  shield.  Pausanias  says, 
he  saw  the  shield,  which  was  preserved  in  the  subterraneous 
chapel  of  Trophonitis,  at  Labedca. 

2 The  exploits  of  Aristomenes  often  oblige  us  to  remem- 
ber the  expression  in  Pausanias,  p.  244:  Agta-TOfnvy.y  Si 
tgy*  $xtri  XTroSitcxrixt  trkizv  tj  y,  xvSgx  ivx  incz;  i$v. 

‘ That  he  did  more  than  seemed  possible  for  any  one  man.” 


[Chap. 

third  time  the  Messenian  hero  had  celebrated 
the  same  tremendous  rite. 

Eleven  years  had  the  vigorous  and  perse- 
vering efforts  of  a single  man  prolonged  the 
destiny  of  Eira.  Aristomenes  might  have  still 
withstood  the  impetuous  ardour  of  the  Spar- 
tans, but  he  eouid  not  withstand  the  unerring 
oracles  of  Apollo,  which  predicted  the  fall  of 
the  devoted  city.  The  purpose  of  the  gods, 
however,  was  accomplished,  not  by  open  iorce, 
but  by  the  secret  treachery  of  a Lacedaemonian 
adulterer.  This  Lacedaemonian  was  the  slave 
of  Emperamus,  a Spartan,  who  in  the  field 
yielded  the  post  of  honour  only  to  the  kings. 
The  perfidious  slave  had  escaped  to  the  enemy 
with  his  master's  property,  and  had  formed  an 
intrigue  wfith  a Messenian  woman  whom  he 
visited  as  often  as  her  husband  was  called  in 
his  turn  to  guard  the  citadel.  Amidst  the 
miserable  joj-s  of  their  infamous  commerce  the 
lovers  were  one  night  disturbed  by  the  hus- 
band, who  loudly  claimed  admittance,  which 
however  he  did  not  obtain  till  his  wife  had 
concealed  the  adulterer.  When  the  wife  with 
the  most  insidious  flattery,  inquiring  by  what 
excess  of  good  fortune  she  was  blessed  with 
her  husband’s  unexpected  return,  the  simple 
Messenian  related,  that  the  inclemency  of  the 
weather  had  driven  the  soldiers  from  their 
posts,  the  wind  and  thunder  and  rain  being  sa 
violent  that  it  was  scarcely  possible  for  them  H 
continue  any  longer  uncovered  on  the  high 
grounds;  nor  could  their  desertion  be  attended 
with  any  bad  consequences  either  to  themselves 
or  to  their  country,  as  Aristomenes  was  pre- 
vented by  a recent  wound  from  walking  the 
rounds  as  usual;  and  as  it  could  not  be  ex- 
pected that  the  Spartans  should  venture  an 
attack  against  the  citadel  during  the  obscurity 
and  horror  of  a tempest.  The  Lacedaemonian 
slave  overheard  this  recital,  and  thus  obtained  a 
piece  of  intelligence,  which  he  well  knew  might 
not  only  atone  for  his  past  crimes,  but  entitle 
him  to  gratitude  from  his  ancient  master.  He 
cautiously  escaped  from  his  concealment,  and 
sought  with  the  utmost  celerity  the  Spartan 
camp.  Neither  of  the  kings  being  then  present, 
the  command  belonged  to  Emperamus,  who 
readily  pardoned  the  fortunate  treachery  of  a 
servant  that  had  afforded  him  the  means  o* 
obtaining  the  highest  object  of  his  ambition. 
Notwithstanding  the  slipperiness  of  the  steep 
ascent,  the  Spartans,  by  the  direction  of  the 
slave,  mounted  the  unguarded  citadel,  and 
obtained  possession  of  Jill  the  principal  posts 
before  the  Messenians  became  sensible  of  their 
danger. 

As  soon  as  it  was  known  that  the  enemy 
had  entered  into  the  city,  Aristomenes,  accom- 
panied by  the  warlike  prophet  Theocles,  toge- 
ther with  their  respective  sons  Gorgus  and 
Manticles,  endeavoured  to  animate  the  despair 
of  their  fellow  citizens,  and  to  make  them  de- 
fend to  the  last  extremity,  the  little  spot  of 
ground  to  which  they  could  yet  apply  the  en- 
dearing name  of  country.  Such  however  were 
the  terrors  and  confusion  of  the  night"  (the 
darkness,  thunder,  and  tempest,  being  rendered 
still  more  dreadful  by  the  presence  of  an  armed 
enemy,)  that  it  was  impossible  to  form  the 


IV.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


59 


Messenians  into  such  an  order  of  bat- 
xxvii2  aS  ena-I)^e  them  to  act  with 

q ’ concert  or  effect.  When  the  morning 
g ‘ ' appeared  they  saw  the  danger  more 

1 ’ distinctly  than  before,  and  the  impos- 
sibility of  any  other  assistance  than  what  may 
be  derived  from  despair.  They  determined, 
at  every  hazard,  to  attack  and  penetrate  the 
Spartan  battalions.  Even  the  women  armed 
themselves  with  tiles,  with  stones,  with  every 
weapon  that  presented  itself  to  their  fury. 
They  lamented  that  the  violence  of  the  wind 
prevented  them  from  mounting  to  the  roofs  of 
the  houses,  which  they  had  purposed  to  throw 
down  on  the  enemy ; and  declared  that  they 
would  rather  be  buried  under  the  ruins  of  their 
country,  than  dragged  in  captivity  to  Sparta. 
Such  generous  resolutions  ought  to  have  re- 
tarded the  fate  of  Messene ; but  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  fight  against  superior  numbers,  aided  by 
the  elements  and  by  the  manifest  partiality  of 
the  gods;  for  the  thunder  happening  on  the 
right  of  the  Spartans,  afforded  them  an  auspi- 
cious omen  of  future  victory,  and  presented  to 
the  Messenians  the  sad  prospect  of  impending 
calamities. 

These  circumstances,  so  favourable  to  the 
Spartans,  were  improved  by  the  prudence  of 
Hecatus  the  diviner,  who  advised  that  the 
soldiers  who  composed  the  last  ranks,  as  they 
could  not  be  brought  up  to  the  attack,  should 
be  remanded  to  the  camp ; and  after  refreshing 
themselves  with  sleep  and  nourishment,  re- 
called to  the  assistance  of  their  countrymen. 
Thus,  without  depriving  themselves  of  present 
strength,  the  Spartans  provided  for  a future 
supply  of  fresh  troops ; while  the  Messenians, 
engaged  in  continual  action  with  the  assail- 
ants, were  obliged  at  the  same  time  to  combat 
cold,  sleep,  fatigue,  and  hunger.  For  three 
days  and  nights  they  withstood  the  combined 
force  of  these  finally  irresistible  enemies ; and 
when  at  length  they  began  to  give  way,  the 
diviner  Theocles  threw  himself  into  the  midst 
of  the  Spartans,  crying  out,  “ That  they  were 
not  always  to  be  victorious,  nor  the  Messenians 
always  to  be  their  slaves.  Such  was  the  will 
of  the  gods ! who  commanded  him  to  perish  in 
the  wreck  of  a country,  which,  in  a future  age, 
was  destined  to  rise  from  its  ruins.” 

It  might  have  been  expected  that  the  patriot- 
ism of  Aristomenes  would  have  chosen  the 
same  honourable  occasion  of  expiring  with  the 
freedom  of  his  republic.  But  the  general  pre- 
ferred life  for  the  sake  of  defending  the  small 
rerfinant  of  a community,  which,  he  flattered 
himself,  would  be  immortal,  not  only  from  the 
prediction  of  Theocles,  but  from  another  cir- 
cumstance equally  important.  When  the  down- 
fal  of  Eira  was  foretold  by  the  oracle  of  Apollo, 
the  prudent  chief  had  removed  to  a place  of 
security  some  sacred  pledges  believed  to  con- 
tain the  fate  of  Messene.  These  mysterious 
securities  consisted  of  thin  plates  of  lead,  rolled 
up  in  the  form  of  a volume,  on  which  was  en- 
graved an  account  of  the  history  and  worship 
of  the  goddesses  Ceres  and  Proserpine.  Having 
concealed  in  mount  Ithome  this  invaluable 
monument,  which  had  been  delivered  down  in 
veneration  from  the  remotest  antiquity,  Aristo- 


menes determined  never  to  despair  of  the  for- 
tune, or  to  forsake  the  interests  of  his  country. 
Although  he  perceived,  therefore,  that  it  was 
now  become  necessary  to  relinquish  E^ra,  he 
did  not,  on  this  account,  abandon  the  safety  of 
its  remaining  citizens.  In  order  to  preserve 
them,  the  only  expedient  that  could  be  em- 
ployed, with  any  hopes  of  success,  was  the 
sounding  a retreat,  and  the  collecting  into  one 
body  such  of  his  soldiers  as  were  not  already 
too  far  engaged  with  the  Spartans.  Having 
accomplished  this  measure,  he  placed  the  wo- 
men and  children  in  the  centre  of  the  battalion, 
and  committed  the  command  of  the  rear  to 
Gorgus  and  Manticles.  He  himself  conducted 
the  van,  and  marching  towards  the  enemy  with 
his  spear  equally  poised,  and  with  well-regu- 
lated valour,  showed,  by  his  mien  and  counte- 
nance, that  he  was  resolved  to  defend  to  the  last 
extremity  the  little  remnant  of  the  Messenian 
state.  The  Spartans,  as  directed  by  Hecatus 
the  diviner,  opened  their  ranks,  and  allowed, 
them  to  pass  unhurt,  judiciously  avoiding  to 
irritate  their  despair.  The  Messenians  aban- 
doned their  city,  and  in  mournful  silence 
marched  towards  Arcadia. 

As  the  wars  of  the  Grecian  republics  were 
more  bloody  and  destructive  than  those  of 
modern  times,  so  were  their  alliances  more 
generous  and  sincere.  When  the  Arcadians 
were  informed  of  the  taking  of  Eira,  they 
travelled  in  great  numbers  towards  the  fron- 
tiers of  their  kingdom,  carrying  with  them 
victuals,  clothing,  and  all  things  necessary  to 
the  relief  of  the  unfortunate  fugitives  ; whom 
having  met  at  mount  Lycaea,  they  invited  into 
their  cities,  offered  to  divide  with  them  their 
lands,  and  to  give  them  their  daughters  in 
marriage.3 

The  generous  sympathy  of  the  Arcadians 
animated  Aristomenes  to  an  exploit,  the  bold- 
ness of  which  little  corresponded  with  the  de- 
pression incident  to  his  present  fortune.  He 
had  only  five  hundred  soldiers  whose  activity 
and  strength  were  still  equal  to  their  valour; 
and  these  he  commanded,  in  the  presence  of 
his  allies,  to  march  straightway  to  Sparta, 
Three  hundred  Arcadians  desired  to  share  the 
glory  of  this  spirited  enterprize ; and  it  was 
hoped,  that  as  the  greater  part  of  the  Lacedae- 
monians were  employed  in  plundering  Eira, 
this  small  but  valiant  body  of  men  might  make 
a deep  impression  on  a city  deprived  of  its 
usual  defence.  The  arrangements  for  this 
purpose  were  taken  with  the  Arcadian  king 
Aristocrates,  whose  behaviour  at  the  battle  of 
the  Trenches  had  occasioned  the  defeat  of  the 
Messenians,  and  whose  artifice  had  since  per- 
suaded them,  that  his  shameful  behaviour  on 
that  day  was  the  effect  of  panic  terror,  not  of 
perfidious  intention.  A second  time  the  trea- 
cherous Arcadian  betrayed  the  cause  of  his 
country  and  its  allies.  Having  retarded  the 
execution  of  Aristomenes’s  project, 
on  pretence  that  the  appearance  of 
\ o'  671  ^ie  cntra'^s  was  unfavourable,  he 
despatched  a confidential  slave  to 
Sparta,  who  discovered  the  imminent  danger 


3 Polyb.  1.  iv 


60 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


threatening  that  republic  to  Anaxander  the  La- 
cedsemonian  king.  The  slave  was  intercepted 
on  his  return,  carrying  a letter  from  that  prince, 
in  which  he  acknowledged  the  faithful  services 
of  his  ancient  benefactor.  Upon  the  discovery 
of  this  letter,  which  totally  disconcerted  the 
intended  enterprize  against  Sparta,  the  Arca- 
dians, frantic  with  disappointment  and  rage, 
stoned  to  death  the  perfidious  traitor  who  dis- 
graced the  name  of  king.  The  Messenians 
joined  not  in  the  execution  of  this  substantial 
act  of  justice.  Watching  the  countenance  of 
Aristomenes,  whose  authority  was  equally 
powerful  in  the  council  and  in  the  field,  they 
observed,  that  instead  of  being  agitated  by  re- 
sentment, it  was  softened  by  grief.  The  hero 
was  affected  with  the  deepest  melancholy,  on 
reflecting  that  the  only  design  was  now  ren- 
dered abortive,  by  which  he  could  soon  hope 
to  avenge  the  wrongs  of  his  country.  Roth 
nations  testified  the  most  signal  detestation  of 
the  character  of  Aristocrates.  The  Arcadians 
extinguished  his  name,  and  extirpated  his  whole 
race.  The  Messenians  erected  a column  near 
the  temple  of  Lycsean  Apollo  (so  named  from 
mount  Lycaea,  on  the  confines  of  Arcadia,) 
with  an  inscription,  setting  forth  his  crime  and 
punishment ; asserting  the  impossibility  of  con- 
cealing treacherous  baseness  from  the  investi- 
gation of  Time,  and  the  penetrating  mind  of 
Jove ; and  praying  the  god  to  defend  and  bless 
the  land  of  Arcadia.1 

Thus  ended  the  second  Messenian  war,  in 
the  autumn  of  the  year  six  hundred  and  seven- 
ty-one before  Christ.  The  fugitive  Messenians 
experienced  Various  fortunes.  The  aged  and 
infirm  were  treated  by  the  Arcadians,  among 
whom  they  continued  to  reside,  with  all  the 
cordial  attention  of  ancient  hospitality.  The 
young  and  enterprising  took  leave  of  their 
benefactors,  and  under  the  conduct  of  Aristo- 
q,  menes  repaired  to  Cyllene,  a harbour 

xxvii  3 belonging  to  the  Eleans.  Agreeably 
A C 670  to  in^ormatlon  which  they  had 
received,  they  found  in  that  place 
their  countrymen  of  Pylus  and  Methone,  with 
whom  they  consulted  about  the  means  of  ac- 
quiring new  establishments.  It  was  determined, 
by  the  advice  of  their  Elean  friends,  not  to  un- 
dertake any  expedition  for  this  purpose  until 
the  return  of  spring,  when  they  should  again 
convene  in  full  assembly,  finally  to  conclude 
this  important  deliberation.  Having  met  at 
the  Erne  appointed,  they  agreed  unanimously 
to  commit  their  future  fortunes  to  the  wisdom 
and  paternal  care  of  Aristomenes,  who  declared 
his  opinion  for  establishing  a distant  colony, 
but  declined  the  honour  of  conducting  it  in 
person,  and  named  for  this  office  the  brave 
Messenian  youths  Gorgus  and  Manticles.  The 
former  of  these  inheriting  his  father’s  hatred 
against  Sparta,  advised  his  countrymen  to  take 
possession  of  the  island  of  Zacynthus,  which, 
from  its  situation  in  the  Ionian  Sea,  lay  con- 
veniently for  harassing  the  maritime  parts  of 
Laconia.  Manticles  proposed  a different  opi- 
nion, observing  that  the  island  of  Sardinia, 


1 The  inscription  is  preserved  by  Polybius,  1.  iv.  and  by 
Pausanias,  Messen. 


[Chap, 

though  less  advantageously  situated  for  the 
purposes  of  revenge,  was  far  better  adapted  to 
supply  the  necessary  comforts  of  life ; and  that 
the  Messenians,  if  once  settled  in  that  large 
and  beautiful  island,  would  soon  forget  the 
calamities  which  Sparta  had  inflicted  on  them. 
It  is  uncertain  whether  motives  of  vengeance 
or  utility  would  have  prevailed  with  the  Mes- 
senians ; for  before  any  resolution  was  taken 
on  this  important  subject,  a messenger  arrived 
from  Rhegium,  then  governed  by  Anaxilas,  a 
prince  descended  from  the  royal  House  of  Mes- 
senia,  who  invited  his  wandering  countrymen 
to  a safe  and  honourable  retreat  in  his  domi- 
nions. When,  agreeably  to  this  invitation,  they 
arrived  at  Rhegium,  Anaxilas  informed  them, 
that  his  subjects  were  continually  harassed  by 
the  piratical  depredations  of  the  Zancleans,  an 
Eolian  colony,2  who  possessed  a delightful 
territory  on  the  opposite  coast.  With  the  as- 
sistance of  the  Messenians  it  would  be  easy 
(he  observed)  to  destroy  that  nest  of  pirates ; a 
measure  by  which  the  city  of  Rhegium  would 
be  delivered  from  very  troublesome  neighbours, 
and  the  Messenians  enabled  to  establish  them- 
selves in  the  most  delicious  situation  of  tho 
whole  Sicilian  coast.  The  proposal  was  re- 
ceived with  alacrity;  the  armament  sailed  for 
Sicily;  the  Zancleans  were  besieged  by  sea 
and  land.  When  they  perceived  that  part  of 
their  wall  was  destroyed,  and  that  they  could 
derive  no  advantage  from  continuing  in  arms, 
they  took  refuge  in  the  temples  of  their  gods. 
Even  from  these  respected  asylums  the  re- 
sentment of  Anaxilas  was  ready  to  tear  them  ; 
but  he  was  restrained  by  the  humanity  of  the 
Messenians,  who  had  learned  from  their  own 
calamities  to  pity  the  unfortunate.  The  Zan- 
cleans, thus  delivered  from  the  sword  and  from 
servitude,  the  ordinary  consequences  of  unsuc- 
cessful war,  swore  eternal  gratitude  to  their 
generous  protectors.  The  Messenians  returned 
this  friendly  sentiment  with  an  increase  of 
bounty ; they  allowed  the  Zancleans  either  to 
leave  the  place,  or  to  remain  in  the  honourable 
condition  of  citizens  ; the  two  nations  gradu- 
ally coalesced  into  one  community;  and  Zan- 
cle,  in  memory  of  the  conquest,  changed  its 
name  to  Messene,3  a name  which  may  still  bo 
recognized  after  the  revolution  of  twenty-five 
centuries. 

It  has  been  already  observed,  that  Aristome- 
nes declined  the  honour  of  conducting  the 
colony.  His  subsequent  fortune  is  differently 
related  by  ancient  writers.4  Pausanias,  to 
whom  we  are  indebted  Tor  the  fullest  account 
of  the  Messenian  hero,  informs  us,  that  he  sailed 


2 Thucydid.  1.  vi. 

3 Such  is  the  account  of  Pausanias,  or  rather  of  the  an- 
cient authors  whom  he  follows.  But  it  must  not  be  dissem- 
bled, that  Herodotus,  lib.  vi.  c.  23.  Thucydides,  p.  114.  and 
Diodorus,  lib.  xi.  place  Anaxilas,  king  of  Rhegium,  much 
later  than  the  second  Messenian  war.  It  deserves  to  be  con 
sidered,  that  Pausanias,  writing  expressly  on  the  subject,  is 
entitled  to  more  credit  than  authors  who  only  speak  of  it 
incidentally.  But  when  we  reflect  that  these  authors  are 
Herodotus  and  Thucydides,  there  seems  no  way  of  solving 
the  difficulty,  but  by  supposing  two  princes  of  the  name  of 
Anaxilas,  to  the  latter  of  whom  his  countrymen,  by  a spe- 
cies of  flattery  not  uncommon  in  Greece,  ascribed  the  trans- 
actions of  the  first. 

4 Confer.  Pausan.  Messen.  et  Plin.  1.  xi.  cap.  70.  Val. 
Maxim,  lib.  i.  cap.  8. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


61 


V-] 

to  the  isle  of  Rhodes  with  Demagetes,  the 
king  of  the  city  and  territory  of  Ialysus  in  that 
island,  who  being  advised  by  the  oracle  of 
Apollo  to  marry  the  daughter  of  the  most  illus- 
trious character  in  Greece,  had  without  hesi- 
tation preferred  the  daughter  of  Aristomenes. 
From  Rhodes  he  sailed  to  Ionia,  and  thence 
travelled  to  Sardis,  with  an  intention  of  being 
presented  to  Ardys  king  of  the  Lydians,  pro- 
bably to  propose  some  enterprize  to  the  ambi- 
tion of  that  prince,  which  might  finally  be  pro- 
ductive of  benefit  to  Messene.  But  upon  his 


arrival  at  Sardis  he  was  seized  with  a distemper 
which  put  an  end  to  his  life.  Other  generals 
have  defended  their  country  with  better  suc- 
cess, but  none  with  greater  glory ; other  charac- 
ters are  more  fully  delineated  in  ancient  his- 
tory, but  none  more  deserving  of  immortal 
fame  ; since  whatever  is  known  of  Aristomenes 
tends  to  prove,  that  according  to  the  ideas  of 
his  age  and  country,  he  united,  in  singular  per- 
fection, the  merits  of  the  citizen  and  of  the  sol- 
dier, the  powers  of  the  understanding  and  the 
virtues  of  the  heart. 


CHAPTER  V. 

State  of  the  Peloponnesus  after  the  Conquest  of  Messenia — Of  the  Northern  Republics  of 
Greece — Of  the  Grecian  Colonies — Revolutions  in  Government — Military  Transact  ions — The 
first  Sacred  War — Destruction  of  the  Crissean  Repy,blic — Restoration  of  the  Pythian  Games — 
Description  of  the  Gymnastic  and  Equestrian  Exercises — History  of  Grecian  Music. 


rpHE  conquest  of  Messenia  rendered  Sparta 
the  most  considerable  power  in  Greece. 
The  Peloponnesus,  formerly  comprehending 
seven,  now  contained  only  six  independent 
states.  The  subjects  of  Sparta  alone  occupied 
two-fifths  of  the  whole  peninsula.  The  re- 
mainder was  unequally  divided  among  the  Co- 
p.,  rinthians,  Achaeans,  Eleans,  Arca- 

xxviii  1 dians,  and  Argives.  In  a narrow 
A C 668  extent  °f  territory,  these  small  com- 
munities exhibited  a wonderful 
variety  of  character  and  manners.  The  cen- 
tral district  of  Arcadia,  consisting  of  one  con- 
tinued cluster  of  mountains,  was  inhabited  by  a 
hardy  race  of  herdsmen,  proud  of  their  ances- 
try, and  confident  in  their  own  courage  and  the 
strength  of  their  country.  Their  Eolian  extrac- 
tion, their  jealousy,  and  their  pride,  made  them 
disdain  connection  with  the  Dorians,  by  whose 
possessions  they  were  on  all  sides  surrounded. 
Careless  of  the  arts  of  peace,  they  were  en- 
gaged in  unceasing  hostilities  with  their  neigh- 
bours, by  whom  they  were  despised  as  barba- 
rians, and  whom  they  contemned  as  upstarts ; 
since,  amidst  all  the  revolutions  of  Peloponne- 
sus, the  Arcadians  alone  had  ever  maintained 
their  original  establishments.5 

The  industrious  and  wealthy  Corinthians 
presented  a very  different  spectacle.  Inhabiting 
the  mountainous  isthmus,  which,  towering  be- 
tween two  seas,  connects  the  Peloponnesus  with 
the  north  of  Greece,  the  Corinthians  long  form- 
ed the  principal  centre  of  inland  communica- 
tion and  foreign  commerce.6  Towards  the 
southern  extremity  of  the  isthmus,  and  at  the 
foot  of  their  impregnable  fortress  Acro-Corin- 
thus,  they  had  built  a fair  and  spacious  city, 
extending  its  branches,  on  either  side,  to  the 
Saronic  and  Corinthian  gulfs,  whose  opposite 
waves  vainly  assailed  their  narrow  but  lofty 


5 Pausan.  Arcad.  Strabo,  1.  viii.  p.  388. 
6.  Pausan.  Corinth,  c.  iv. 


territory.7  Their  harbours  and  their  commerce 
gave  them  colonies  and  a naval  power.  They 
are  said  to  have  improved  the  very  inconve- 
nient ships,  or  rather  long-boats,  used  in  early 
times,  into  the  more  capacious  form  of  trireme8 


7 Strabo,  1.  viii.  v.  379. 

8 The  triremes,  quadriremes,  quinqueremes  of  the  an* 
cients,  were  so  denominated  from  the  number  of  the  ranks, 
or  tires,  of  oars  on  each  side  the  vessel ; which  number  con- 
stituted what  we  may  call  the  rate  of  the  ancient  ships  of 
war.  It  was  long  a desideratum  in  the  science  of  antiqui- 
ties to  determine  the  manner  of  arranging  these  ranks  of 
oars,  as  well  as  to  ascertain  the  position  of  the  rowers.  The 
bulk  of  commentators  and  antiquaries  placed  the  sedilia,  or 
seats,  in  rows,  immediately  above  each  other,  upon  the 
sides  of  the  vessel,  which  they  supposed  perpendicular  to 
the  surface  of  the  water.  But  the  least  knowledge  of  naval 
architecture  destroys  that  supposition.  The  rowers,  thus 
placed,  must  have  obstructed  each  other;  they  must  have 
occupied  too  large  a space,  and  rowed  with  too  unfavour- 
able an  angle  on  the  ship’s  side  ; above  all,  the  length  and 
weight  of  the  oars  required  for  the  upper  tires,  must  have 
rendered  the  working  of  them  totally  impracticable,  espe- 
cially as  we  know  from  ancient  writers,  that  there  was  but 
one  man  to  each  oar.  These  inconveniences  were  pointed  out 
by  many ; but  the  ingenuity  of  lieutenant-general  Melville 
explained  how  to  remedy  them,  lie  conjectured  that  the 
waste  parts  of  the  ancient  gallics,  at  the  distance  of  a few 
feet  above  the  water’s  edge,  rose  obliquely,  with  an  angle 
of  45°,  or  near  it ; that  upon  the  inner  sides  of  this  waste 
part,  the  seats  of  the  rowers,  each  about  two  feet  in  length, 
were  fixed,  horizontally,  in  rows,  with  no  more  space  be- 
tween each  seat,  nnd  those  on  all  sides  of  it,  than  should  be 
found  necessary  for  the  free  movements  of  men  when  row- 
ing together.  The  quincunx,  or  chequer  order,  would  afford 
this  advantage  in  the  highest  degree  possible  ; and,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  combination  of  two  obliquities,  the  incon- 
veniences above-mentioned  totally  disappear.  In  1773  the 
general  caused  the  fifth  part  of  the  waist  of  a quinqueremis 
to  be  erected  in  the  back  yard  of  his  house  in  Great  Pulte- 
ney  street.  This  model  contained,  with  sufficient  ease,  in  a 
very  small  space,  thirty  rowers,  in  five  tires  of  six  men  in 
each,  lengthways,  making  one-fifth  part  of  the  rowers  on 
each  side  of  a quinqueremis,  according  to  Polybius,  who 
assigns  three  hundred  for  the  whole  complement,  besides 
one  hundred  and  twenty  fighting  men.  This  construction, 
the  advantages  of  which  appeared  evident  to  those  who 
examined  it,  serves  to  explain  many  difficult  passages  of 
the  Greek  and  Roman  writers  concerning  naval  matters. 
The  general’s  discovery  is  confirmed  by  ancient  monu- 
ments. On  several  pieces  of  sculpture,  particularly  at 
Rome,  he  found  the  figures  of  war  gallies,  or  parts  of  them, 
with  the  oars  represented  as  coming  down  from  oar  holes 
disposed  chequerwise.  In  the  Capo  di  Monte  Palace  at 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


gallies.1  Their  sea-fight  against  their  rebel- 
lious colony,  Corcyra,  is  the  first  naval  en- 
gagement recorded  in  history.2  It  was  fought 
A q six  hundred  and  fifty  years  before 
Christ,  at  which  time  ^he  Corinthians 
till  585  (as  ^eas  wea-lth  and  luxury  are 
relative)  were  already*  regarded  by 
their  neighbours  as  a wealthy  and  luxurious 
people.  The  influence  o;f  wealth  to  produce 
servitude  prevailed  over  that  of  commerce, 
which  is  favourable  to  liberty.  Their  govern- 
ment, after  the  abolition  of  monarchy,  was 
usurped  by  a numerous  branch  of  the  royal 
family,  styled  Bacchiadae.3  This  oligarchy 
was  destroyed  by  Cypselus,  a mild  and  gentle 
ruler,4  whose  family  governed  Corinth  till  the 
year  five  hundred  and  eighty-five  before  Christ. 

The  contrast  between  Arcadia  and  Corinth 
was  not  more  striking  than  that  between  Ar- 
golis  and  Achaia.  The  citizens  of  Argos,  hav- 
ing expelled  their  kings,  were  seized  with  an 
ambition  to  reduce  and  domineer  over  the  in- 
ferior towns  in  the  province.  The  insolence 
of  the  capital  provoked  the  indignation  of  the 
country.  Mycenae,  Trsezene,  Epidaurus,  and 
other  places  of  less  note,  were  often  conquer- 
ed, but  never  thoroughly  subdued.  Interest 
taught  them  to  unite  ; and  union  enabled  them 
to  set  at  defiance  the  power  of  Argos,  by  which 
they  were  branded  as  rebellious,  and  which 
they  reproached  as  tyrannical.5  The  fortunate 
district  of  Achaia,  having  successfully  resisted 
the  oppression  of  Ogygus,  an  unworthy  de- 
scendant of  Agamemnon,  established,  at  a very 
early  period,  a democratical  form  of  policy.6 
Twelve  cities,  each  of  which  retained  its  mu- 
nicipal jurisdiction,  united  on  a foot  of  perfect 
equality  and  freedom.  This  equitable  confe- 
deracy prepared  the  way  for  the  Achaean  laws, 
so  celebrated  in  latter  times,  when  the  cause  of 
Greece,  shamefully  abandoned  by  more  pow- 
erful guardians,  was  defended  by  the  feeble 
communities  of  Achaia.7 

We  have  already  had  occasion  to  explain  the 
important  institutions  of  Iphitus  and  Lycur- 
gus.  The  very  opposite  systems  adopted  by 
these  great  legislators,  respectively  suited  the 
weakness  of  Elis  and  the  strength  of  Sparta,  and 
occasioned  a remarkable  contrast  between  the 
peaceful  tranquillity  of  the  former  republic6 
and  the  warlike  ambition  of  the  latter,  the  lines 
of  whose  national  character  grew  more  bold 
and  decisive  after  the  Messenian  conquest. 
The  piteous  remnant  of  the  Messenians,  who 
had  defended  their  freedom  with  the  most  per- 


Naples,  the  reverse  of  a large  medaglione  of  Gordianus  has 
the  figure  of  a triremis,  with  three  tires,  each  of  fourteen  or 
fifteen  oars,  issuing  chequerwise  from  the  oblique  side. 
The  collection  at  Portici  contains  ancient  paintings  of  seve- 
ral gallies,  one  or  two  of  which,  by  presenting  the  stern  part, 
show  both  the  obliquity  of  the  sides,  and  the  rows  of  oars 
reaching  to  the  water. — The  substance  of  this  note  ts  already 
published  in  Governor  Pownall’s  Antiquities.  The  go- 
vernor, however,  speaks  of  a gallery  for  the  rowers,  which 
I did  not  observe  in  the  general’s  model ; nor  do  I appre- 
hend that  such  a gallery  could  be  necessary,  as  the  purpose 
for  which  it  is  supposed  to  have  been  intended,  is  com- 
pletely answered  by  the  waist  part  of  the  vessel. 

1 Thucydid.  I.  i.  c.  xiii.  2 Ibid. 

3 Pausan.  Corinth.  4 Aristot.  Polit.  1.  v.  c.  xii. 

5 Pausan.  1.  vi.  c.  xxi.  Diodor.  Sicul.  1.  xi.  p.  275. 

6 Pausan.  Achaic.  Strabo,  1.  viii.  p.  383,  et  seq. 

7 Polyb  1.  ii.  8 Pausan.  Eliac,  et  Strabo.  1.  viii. 


[Chap, 

severing  bravery,  was  reduced  to  a cruel  and 
ignominious  servitude.  Confounded  with  the 
miserable  mass  of  Helots,  those  wretched  vic- 
tims of  Spartan  cruelty,  they  .were  condemned 
to  laborious  drudgery,  exposed  to  daily  insult, 
and  compelled  (still  more  intolerable  !)  to  tend 
their  own  flocks,  and  cultivate  their  own  fields, 
for  the  benefit  of  unrelenting  tyrants.9  The 
haughty  temper  of  the  Spartans  became  con- 
tinually more  presumptuous.  They  totally 
disdained  such  arts  and  employments  as  they 
usually  saw  practised  by  the  industry  of  slaves. 
War,  and  hunting  as  the  image  of  war,  were 
the  only  occupations  which  it  suited  their  dig- 
nity to  pursue ; and  this  constant  exercise  in 
arms,  directed  by  the  military  code  of  Lycur- 
gus,  rendered  them  superior  in  the  field  of  bat- 
tle, not  only  to  the  neighbouring  states  of  Pelo- 
ponnesus, but  to  the  bravest  and  most  renown- 
ed republics  beyond  the  Corinthian  isthmus. 

While  the  Grecian  peninsula  was  agitated 
by  the  stubborn  conflict  between  the  Spartans 
and  Messenians,  the  northern  states  had  been 
disturbed  by  petty  wars,  and  torn  by  domestic 
discord.  The  Greek  settlements  in  Thrace, 
in  Africa,  and  Magna  Grsecia,  were  yet  too 
feeble  to  attract  the  regard  of  history.  But, 
during  the  period  now  under  review, the  Asiatic 
colonies,  as  shall  be  explained  in  a subsequent 
chapter,  far  surpassed  their  European  brethren 
in  splendour  and  prosperity. 

Having  abolished  the  regal  office,  the  Athe- 
nians, whose  political  revolutions  were  follow- 
ed with  remarkable  uniformity  by  neighbour- 
ing states,  submitted  the  chief  administration 
of  their  affairs  to  a magistrate  entitled  Archon, 
or  ruler.  The  authority  of  the  Archon  long 
q continued  hereditary  : it  became  after- 
wards decennial : at  length  nine  annual 
Archons  were  appointed  by  the  power- 
ful class  of  nobility,  consisting  not  only 
of  the  descendants  of  such  foreign  princes 
as  had  taken  refuge  in  Athens,  but  of 
those  Athenian  families  which  time  and  acci- 
dent had  raised  to  opulence  and  distinction. 
The  great  body  of  the  people  gained  nothing 
by  these  revolutions.  The  equestrian  order,  so 
called  from  their  fighting  on  horseback,  which 
before  the  improvement  of  tactics,  rendered 
them  superior  in  every  rencounter  with  the  dis- 
orderly rabble,  enjoyed  all  authority,  religious, 
civil,  and  military.11  The  Athenian 
populace  were  reduced  to  a condition 
of  miserable  servitude ; nor  did  they 
recover  their  ancient  and  hereditary  freedom 
until  the  admired  institutions  of  Theseus  were 
restored  and  improved  by  Solon,  towards  the 
beginning  of  the  sixth  century  before  Christ. 

The  domestic  dissensions  which  prevailed  in 
every  state  beyond  the  isthmus  were  only  in- 
terrupted by  foreign  hostilities.  Interference  of 
interest  occasioned  innumerable  contests  between 
the  Phocians  and  Thebans,  the  Dorians 
and  Thessalians, the  Locrians  and  ACto- 
lians.  Their  various  inroads,  battles, 
and  sieges,  which  were  begun  with  pas- 
sion, carried  on  without  prudence,  and 


754. 

A.  C 

684. 


A.  C 

594. 


Olymp. 

xlvi. 

A.  C. 
600. 


9 Pausanias  Mcsseniac. 

11  Aristot.  Politic.  1.  iv.c.  xiii. 


10  Thucydid.  1.  i. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


63 


VO 

Concluded  without  producing  any  permanent 
effect,  have  been  consigned  by  ancient  historians 
to  a just  oblivion.  But  the  first  sacred  war  is 
recommended  to  our  attention,  both  on  account 
of  the  cause  from  which  it  arose,  and  the  con- 
sequences with  which  it  was  attended.  This 
memorable  enterprize  was  occasioned  by  an 
injury  committed  against  the  oracle  of  Delphi ; 
it  was  undertaken  by  order  of  the  Amphic- 
tyons  ; it  ended  in  the  total  destruction  of  the 
cities  accused  of  sacrilegious  outrage ; and  its 
successful  conclusion  was  celebrated  by  the 
Pythian  games  and  festival,  which,  of  all  Gre- 
cian institutions,  had  the  most  direct  as  well  as 
most  powerful  tendency  to  refine  rudeness  and 
soften  barbarity. 

The  territory  of  the  Crisseans,  lying  to  the 
south  of  Delphi,  comprehended,  in  an  extent 
of  about  twenty-four  miles  in  length  and  fif- 
teen in  breadth,  three  large  and  flourishing 
cities  ; Crissa,  the  capital,  which  gave  name  to 
the  province  ; Cirrha,  advantageously  situated 
for  commerce  on  the  western  side  of  a creek  of 
the  Corinthian  gulf ; and  Anticirrha,  on  the 
eastern  side  of  the  same  creek,  celebrated  for 
the  production  of  hellebore,  as  well  as  for  the 
skill  with  which  the  natives  prepared  that  me- 
dicinal plant,  the  virtues  of  which  were  so 
much  extolled  and  exaggerated  by  credulous 
antiquity.12 

The  Crisseans  possessed  all  the  means  of 
happiness,  but  knew  not  how  to  enjoy  them. 
Their  territory,  though  small,  was  fertile ; and 
as  its  value  was  enhanced  by  the  comparative 
sterility  of  the  greatest  pai-t  of  Phocis,13  it  ac- 
quired and  deserved  the  epithet  of  happy. 
Their  harbour  was  frequented  by  the  vessels, 
not  only  of  Greece,  but  of  Italy  and  Sicily ; 
they  carried  on  an  extensive  foreign  commerce, 
considering  the  limited  communication  between 
distant  countries  in  that  early  age  ; and  the 
neighbourhood  of  Delphi,  at  which  it  was  im- 
possible to  arrive  without  passing  through  their 
dominions,  brought  them  considerable  acces- 
sions of  wealth,14  as  well  as  of  dignity  and  re- 
spect. But  these  advantages,  instead  of  satis- 
fying, increased  the  natural  avidity  of  the  Cris- 
seans. They  began  to  exact  vexatious  and 
exorbitant  duties  from  the  merchants  who 
came  to  expose  their  wares  in  the  sacred  city, 
which,  on  account  of  the  great  concourse  of 
profligate  pilgrims  from  every  quarter,  soon 
iecame  the  seat,  not  of  devotion  only,  but  of 
dissipation,  vanity,  and  licentious  pleasure.  It 
Kras  in  vain  for  the  merchants  to  exclaim 
igainst  these  unexampled  impositions ; the 
taxes  were  continually  increased  ; the  evil  ad- 
mitted not  the  expectation  of  either  remedy  or 
relief;  and  the  strangers,  accustomed  to  it  by 
long  habit,  be<mn  to  submit  without  murmur  ; 
and  perhaps  endured  the  hardship  with  the 
greater  patience,  when  they  perceived  that  they 
drew  back  the  tax  in  the  increased  price  of 
their  commodities.  Encouraged  by  this  ac- 
quiescence in  their  tyranny,  the  Crisseans  levied 
a severe  impost  on  the  pilgrims,  whether  Greeks 
or  Barbarians,  who  visited  the  temple  of  Apollo  ; 
a measure  directly  inconsistent  with  a decree 


of  the  Amphictyons,  which  declared  that  all 
men  should  have  free  access  to  the  oracle,15  as 
well  as  extremely  hurtful  to  the  interest  of  the 
Delphians,  who  soon  felt  a gradual  diminution 
of  their  profits  arising  from  the  holy  shrine. 
It  was  natural  for  those  who  sustained  a loss, 
either  of  gain  or  of  authority,  to  remonstrate 
against  the  extortions  of  the  Crisseans ; but 
their  remonstrances,  instead  of  producing  any 
happy  alteration  of  behaviour,  only  exaspe- 
rated men  grown  insolent  through  prosperity. 
In  the  time  of  profound  peace,  the  Crisseans, 
provoked  by  useful  admonitions,  which  they 
proudly  called  threats,  entered  with  an  armed 
force  the  territories  of  their  neighbours ; de- 
stroyed every  thing  that  opposed  them,  with 
fire  and  sword  ; laid  the  defenceless  cities  un- 
der heavy  contributions,  and  carried  many  of 
the  inhabitants  into  servitude.16  Delphi  itself, 
however  much  it  was  revered  in  Greece,  and 
respected  even  by  the  most  distant  nations,  ap- 
peared to  the  sacrilegious  invaders  an  object 
better  fitted  to  gratify  the  desire  of  plunder, 
than  to  excite  the  emotions  of  piety.  Neigh- 
bourhood had  rendered  them  familiar  with  the 
woods,  the  temples,  and  the  grottos  of  the 
presiding  divinity  ; with  the  manners  and  cha- 
racter of  many  of  his  ministers  they  were  pro- 
bably too  well  acquainted  to  hold  them  in 
much  reverence;  and  having  deserved  their 
resentment  by  what  they  had  already  done, 
they  resolved  to  render  it  impotent  by  what 
they  should  next  accomplish. 

The  design  of  plundering  Delphi  was  no 
sooner  formed  than  executed.  The  imagina- 
tions of  men  were  not  prepared  for  such  an 
event ; nor  had  any  measures  been  taken  to 
prevent  such  an  unexpected  and  abominable 
profanation.  The  enemy  meeting  with  no  re- 
sistance, became  masters  of  the  temple,  and 
seized  the  rich  votive  offerings  accumulated  by 
the  pious  generosity  of  ages.  Thence  they 
passed  into  the  sacred  wood,  and  rendered  fu- 
rious through  pride  or  guilt,  attacked,  plunder- 
ed, and  murdered  the  promiscuous  crowd,  who 
were  employed  in  the  usual  exercise  of  their 
devotions.  The  young  were  violated  with  a 
licentious  rage  which  bid  defiance  to  decency 
and  nature.  Even  a deputation  of  the  Am- 
phictyons, clothed  in  the  venerable  garb  and 
bearing  the  respected  ens’-gns  of  their  office, 
were  repelled  with  blows  and  insults,  while 
they  vainly  attempted  to  stop  the  fatal  progress 
of  these  frantic  and  impious  outrages,  com- 
mitted against  every  thing  held  sacred  among 
men.17 

The  Amphictyonic  council,  to  whom  it  be- 
longed to  judge  and  to  punish  the  atrocious 
enormities  of  the  Crisseans,  experienced,  in  an 
uncommon  degree,  those  inconveniences  to 
which  all  numerous  assemblies  are  in  some 
measure  liable.  Their  proceedings  were  re- 
tarded by  formality,  warped  by  prejudice,  and 
disturbed  by  dissension.  Notwithstanding  the 
aggravated  crimes  of  the  Crisseans,  it  was  not 
without  encountering  many  difficulties  and 
much  opposition,  that  Solon,  one  of  the  Athe- 
nian representatives,  roused  his  associates  to 


12  Strabo  and  Pliny. 
14  Pausan.  in  Phocic. 


13  Strabo,  p.  323,  ct  seq. 


15  Strabo,  1.  ix.  p.  418. 
17  Pausan.  in  Phocic. 


16  iEschin.  in  Ctcsiphont. 


64 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


the  resolution  of  avenging  the  offended  ma- 
jesty of  religion,  the  violated  laws  of  nature, 
and  their  own  personal  injuries.  When  at 
length  they  agreed  to  this  useful  and  pious  de- 
sign, the  measures  pursued  on  the  present  oc- 
casion, as  well  as  in  all  the  future  wars  under- 
taken by  their  authority,  were  equally  slow  a^hd 
indecisive.  The  forces  which  they  at  first 
brought  into  the  field  were  by  no  means  equal 
to  the  enterprize  for  which  they  were  designed. 
Alter  various  reinforcements,  they  attempted 
ineffectually,  during  nine  summers  and  win- 
ters, to  reduce  the  towns  of  Crissa  and  Cirrha, 
which  finally  submitted,  in  the  tenth  year  of 
the  war,  rather  to  the  art  than  to  the  power  of 
the  besiegers.* 

The  events  of  the  preceding  years  strongly 
paint  the  ignorance,  the  superstition,  and  the 
rude  manners  .of  the  times.  The  Crisseans 
had  no  sooner  plundered,  than  they  abandoned 
the  temple  of  Apollo.  Thither,  by  the  advice 
of  Solon,  the  Amphictyons  sent  messengers,  to 
consult  the  oracle  concerning  the  proper  means 
as  well  as  the  just  measure  of  their  vengeance. 
They  were  commanded  instantly  to  levy  war 
on  the  Crisseans ; to  persecute  them  to  the 
last  extremity ; to  demolish  their  towns,  to 
desolate  their  country,  and  after  consecrating 
it  to  Apollo,  Diana,  Latona,  and  Minerva,  to 
prevent  it  from  ever  thenceforth  being  culti- 
vated for  the  service  of  man.1  In  obedience  to 
this  peremptory  injunction  of  the  god,  the  Am- 
phictyons returned  to  their  several  republics, 
in  order  to  collect  troops,  and  to  animate  the 
exertions  of  their  countrymen  in  the  common 
cause.  The  Greeks,  however,  were  too  deeply 
engaged  in  domestic  dissensions,  to  make 
effectual  efforts  for  the  glory  of  Apollo.  Few 
adventurers  repaired  to  the  holy  standard;  and 
the  war,  neither  supported  by  vigour  of  execu- 
tion, nor  directed  by  wisdom  of  deliberation, 
languished  for  several  years  under  different 
generals.  At  length  Eurylochus,  a Thessalian 
prince,  of  great  valour  and  activity,  was  en- 
trusted with  the  command  of  the  Amphictyonic 
army.2  The  new  general  waited  till  the  time 
of  harvest,  to  ravage  the  open  country,  to  de- 
stroy the  villages  by  fire  and  sword,  and  to  de- 
solate the  happy  Crissean  plain. 

On  several  occasions  he  defeated  the  army 
of  the  Crisseans,  who  made  frequent  and  vigor- 
ous sallies  in  order  to  defend  their  possessions. 
But  when  he  attempted  to  make  an  impression 
on  the  fortified  strength  of  Crissa,  its  thick 
walls,  its  lofty  towers,  and  above  all,  the  acti- 
vity and  courage  of  its  citizens,  presented  ob- 
stacles which  it  was  impossible  to  surmount. 
The  art  of  besieging  towns  still  continued  in  a 
state  of  great  imperfection.  The  battering- 
rams,  and  other  engines  employed  in  this  opera- 
tion of  war,  were  of  too  rude  a construction  to 
make  such  a breach  in  the  walls  as  might  not 
easily  be  repaired.  It  was  in  vain  that  Eurylo- 
’•-hus  attempted  by  blockade  to  reduce  the 
olace.  The  enemy  were  furnished  with  all 
lecessaries  in  great  abundance,  from  the  well- 
requented  port  of  Cirrha.  Years  thus  passed 


[Chap. 

away,  and  nothing  decisive  was  effected.  The 
besiegers,  fatigued  with  labour,  and  uneasy  at 
disappointment,  had  often  abandoned  their 
camp,  and  cantoned  themselves  on  the  borders 
of  the  Crissean  territory,  where  they  expected 
more  salutary  supplies  of  provisions. 

When  they  again  returned  to  their  duty,  they 
were  afflicted,  in  the  ninth  year  of  the  war, 
with  a pestilential  or  epidemic  disorder,  occa- 
sioned either  by  the  wrant  of  wholesome  food, 
the  great  numbers  of  men  cooped  up  during  the 
warm  season  within  a narrow  space,  or  by  some 
unknown  malignity  of  the  atmosphere.  A great 
part  of  the  army  fell  a prey  to  the  increasing 
contagion.  Anxious  for  the  public  safety  the 
Amphictyons  had  recourse  to  the  wisdom  of 
Apollo,  who,  instead  of  recommending  to  them 
the  aid  of  an  able  physician,  exhorted  them  to 
bring  from  the  isle  of  Cos  the  fawn  with  gold. 
Ambassadors  were  immediately  despatched  to 
that  island,  in  order  to  unravel  the  meaning  of 
the  god,  thus  wrapped  up  in  its  customary  veil 
of  mystic  obscurity.  They  had  no  sooner  ex- 
plained their  commission  in  the  Coan  assembly, 
than  an  eminent  citizen,  named  Nebros,  rising 
up,  declared  the  sense  of  the  oracle.  “ I am 
the  fawn,”  said  he,  “ pointed  out  by  Apollo,” 
(for  Nebros  in  Greek  signifies  a fawn,)  “ and 
my  son  Chrysos”  (which  is  the  Greek  word  for 
gold)  “has  carried  off  the  prize  of  strength, 
courage,  and  beauty,  from  all  his  competitors.” 
The  person  who  thus  spoke  is  justly  celebrated, 
on  account  of  his  ancestor  Esculapius,  of  his 
descendant  Hippocrates,3  and  of  his  own  un- 
rivalled proficiency  in  the  healing  art.  The 
knowledge  of  physic  was  become  the  heredi- 
tary honour,  and  almost  the  appropriated  pos- 
session, of  his  family,  by  which  it  had  been  cul- 
tivated for  many  ages,  and  to  which  it  is  sup- 
posed, in  a great  measure,  to  owe  its  present 
improvement  and  perfection.  Nebros  obeyed 
with  alacrity  the  injunction  of  Apollo,  the 
peculiar  patron  of  the  science  in  which  he  ex- 
celled. At  his  own  expense  he  equipped  a ves- 
sel of  fifty  oars,  loaded  with  valuable  medicines 
as  well  as  with  warlike  stores,  and  accompanied 
by  his  son  Chrysos,  set  sail  with  the  Am- 
phictyonic ambassadors,  in  order  to  cure  the 
confederates,  and  to  conquer  the  Crisseans. 

His  advice,  his  prudence,  and  his  assiduity, 
restored  the  decaying  health  of  the  army. 
Their  numbers,  however,  were  already  so  much 
diminished,  that  it  seemed  impossible  by  open 
force  to  put  a successful  end  to  the  war.  On 
this  occasion  the  artful  Coan  employed  a strata- 
gem, which  would  have  appeared  entirely  in- 
consistent with  the  laws  of  arms  which  had 
long  been  established  in  Greece,  if  it  had  not 
seemed  to  be  the  dictate  of  a div!-  3 admonition. 
The  horse  of  Eurylochus  w observed  for 
several  days  to  roll  on  the  sai  and  to  strike 
his  foot  with  great  violence  against  a particular 
spot  of  ground.  In  digging  under  this  ground, 


3 We  owe,  almost  entirely,  the  history  recorded  in  tho 
text,  to  an  oration  of  Thessalus,  son  of  Hippocrates,  ad- 
dressed to  the  Athenians.  It  is  published  amonj  the  let- 
ters of  his  father.  Vid.  Hippocrat.  Opera,  ex  edit.  Fsesii,  v. 
ii.  p.  1291.  There  are  some  learned  dissertations  on  the  sub- 
ject in  the  5th  and  7th  volumes  of  the  Memoirs  of  the  Aca- 
demy of  Belles  Lettrei. 


1 A^schin.  ibid. 

2 Plut.  in  Solon  Strabo,  1.  ix.  Plataenus,  1.  vi.  c.  xv. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


6:> 


v.J 

a wooden  pipe  was  discovered,  which  supplied 
Crissa  with  water.  The  extraordinary  means 
by  which  this  discovery  was  made,  convinced 
the  ignorant  credulity  of  the  Greeks,  that  some 
important  advantage  might  be  derived  from  it ; 
and  upon  mature  deliberation  it  was  con- 
cluded, that  Apollo  had  thus  suggested  a con- 
trivance for  destroying  his  own  and  their  ene- 
mies. Complying  therefore  with  the  heavenly 
intimation,  Nebros  poisoned  the  conduit  of 
water ; and  the  effect  of  this  detestable  artifice 
was  soon  discernible  in  the  languid  efforts  and 
diminished  resistance  of  the  besieged.  The 
besiegers,  on  the  other  hand,  encouraged  by  the 
evident  partiality  of  the  gods,  carried  on  their 
operations  with  redoubled  vigour.  A reward 
was  proposed  for  the  man  who  should  first 
mount  the  walls,  an  honour  obtained  by  the 
youthful  ardour  of  Chrysos.  The  city  was 
thus  taken  by  assault ; the  fortifications  were 
demolished,  the  houses  burnt,  and  the  inhabit- 
ants treated  with  a severity  proportioned  to 
the  atrocious  enormity  of  their  own  crimes,  and 
the  exasperated  resentment  of  the  victors. 

The  command  of  Apollo,  however,  was  not 
completely  executed  by  the  destruction  of  the 
Crissean  capital.  Part  of  that  impious  com- 
munity still  subsisted  in  the  maritime  town  of 
Cirrha,  the  reduction  of  which  must  have  pre- 
sented great  difficulties  to  the  Amphictyons, 
since  it  was  necessary  for  them  a third  time  to 
have  recourse  to  the  oracle.  The  answer  de- 
livered on  this  occasion  was  involved  in  two- 
fold obscurity.  The  words  of  the  god,  at  all 
times  dark  and  doubtful,  now  seemed  abso- 
lutely unintelligible,  since  he  made  the  taking 
of  Cirrha,  an  event  which  there  was  every  rea- 
son to  expect,  depend  on  a circumstance  that 
appeared  at  first  sight  impossible.  “You  shall 
not  overturn,”  said  he,  “the  lofty  towers  of 
Cirrha,  until  the  foaming  billows  of  blue-eyed 
Amphitrite  beat  against  the  resounding  shores 
of  the  Holy  Land.”  How  could  the  sea  be 
conveyed  for  several  leagues  over  rocks  and 
mountains,  so  that  its  waves  might  dash  against 
the  craggy  precipices  which  surround  the  sacred 
groves  of  Delphi  ? This  was  an  enigma  which 
the  oldest  and  most  experienced  members  of 
the  Amphictyonic  council  acknowledged  them- 
selves unable  to  explain.  The  condition  on 
which  success  was  promised  them  seemed  in- 
capable of  being  fulfilled ; the  inhabitants  of 
Cirrha  flattered  themselves  with  hopes  of  un- 
alterable security  ; and  the  wisest  of  the  Am- 
phictyons gave  their  opinion,  that  there  was 
good  reason  to  abandon  an  enterprise  which 
seemed  disagreeable  to  Apollo,  by  whose  ad- 
vice the  war  had  been  originally  undertaken. 

While  the?  sentiments  universally  prevailed 
in  both  arr  ^^Solon,  the  Athenian,  alone 
ventured  ti  MJtyose  an  advice  more  advan- 
tageous for  tue  confederates,  as  well  as  more 
honourable  for  the  holy  shrine.  His  superior 
wisdom  taught  him  the  impiety  of  supposing 
that  the  god  should  require  an  impossibility,  as 
the  condition  of  happily  terminating  a war,  the 
first  measures  of  which  he  had  himself  suggest- 
ed and  approved.  It  exceeded,  indeed,  human 
power  to  extend  the  sea  to  the  boundary  of  the 
Holy  Land;  but  by  removing  this  boundary, 
1 


it  was  possible  to  make  the  Holy  Land  com- 
municate with  the  sea.  This  might  easily  be 
accomplished,  since  it  sufficed  for  that  purpose 
to  consecrate  the  intermediate  space  with  the 
same  ceremonies  which  had  been  formerly  em- 
ployed in  dedicating  the  Delphian  territory.4 

The  opinion  of  Solon,  proposed  with  much 
solemn  gravity,  was  honoured  with  the  unani- 
mous approbation  of  his  associates.  Every  one 
now  wondered  that  he  himself  should  not  have 
thought  of  an  expedient  which  seemed  so  na- 
tural and  so  obvious.  The  preparations  were 
immediately  made  for  carrying  it  into  execu- 
tion ; and  the  property  of  the  Cirrhean  plain 
was  surrendered  to  the  god  with  the  most 
pompous  formality;  the  Amphictyons,  either 
not  considering  that  they  bestowed  on  Apollo, 
what,  as  it  was  not  their  own,  they  had  not  a 
right  to  give  away ; or,  if  this  idea  occurred, 
easily  persuaded  themselves  that  the  piety  of 
the  application  would  atone  for  the  defect  of 
the  title. 

When  the  senators  had  performed  the  con- 
secration, the  soldiers  assailed  the  walls  of 
Cirrha  with  the  increasing  activity  of  re-ani- 
mated hope.  That  place,  as  well  as  the  de- 
pendent town  of  Anticirrha,  situate  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  creek,  soon  submitted  to 
their  arms.  The  impious  and  devoted  citizens 
were  either  put  to  the  sword,  or  dragged  into 
captivity.  The  Crissean  community,  formerly 
so  rich  and  so  flourishing,  was  for  ever  extir- 
pated.5 Their,  lands  were  laid  waste,  their 
cities  demolished,  the  proud  monuments  of 
their  victories  levelled  with  the  ground ; and 
the  port  of  Cirrha,  which  was  allowed  to  re- 
main as  a convenient  harbour  for  Delphi,  sub- 
sisted as  the  only  vestige  of  their  ancient 
grandeur.  The  territory,  as  it  had  been  con- 
demned by  the  divine  will  to  perpetual  sterility, 
long  continued  uncultivated  ; for  the  Delphians 
were  not  obliged  to  labour  the  ground  in  order 
to  acquire  the  necessaries,  the  accommoda- 
tions, and  even  the  highest  luxuries  of  life. 
The  superstition  of  the  age,  furnished  an 
abundant  resource  to  supply  their  wants  ; the 
granaries  of  Apollo  filled  spontaneously  ; and, 
to  use  the  figurative  style  of  an  ancient  author, 
the  land,  unploughed  and  unsown  by  the  in- 
dustry of  man,  flourished  in  the  richest  luxu- 
riance under  the  culture  of  the  god.6 

The  successful  event  of  a war  begun,  carried 
on,  and  concluded  under  the  respectable  sanc- 
tion of  the  Amphictyonic  council,  was  cele- 
brated with  all  the  pomp  and  festivity  congenial 
Q,  to  the  Grecian  character.  According 

to  an  ancient  and  sacred  institution, 
^ £ the  several  republics  were  accustom- 
ed ’ ed,  by  public  shows,  to  commemorate 
their  respective  victories.  When  dif- 
ferent communities  had  employed  their  joint 
efforts  in  the  same  glorious  enterprise,  the 
grateful  triumph  was  exhibited  with  a propor- 
tional increase  of  magnificence  ; but  the  for- 
tunate exploits  of  gods  and  heroes,  which  had 
extensively  benefited  the  whole  Grecian  name, 


4 Plutarch,  in  Solon.  Pausan.  in  Phoc. 

5 Sachin,  in  Ctesiphont. 

6 E^vsto  t x rrstvTX  ujto  yem^yto  tm  Ssio 

Lucian.  Phalar.  ii. 


66 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


were  distinguished  by  such  peculiar  and  trans- 
cendent honours  as  eclipsed  the  splendour  of 
all  other  solemnities.  While  each  republic  paid 
the  tribute  of  provincial  festivals  to  the  memory 
of  its  particular  benefactors,  the  whole  nation 
were  concerned  in  acknowledging  the  bounti- 
ful goodness  of  Jupiter,  the  protecting  aid  of 
Neptune,  the  unerring  wisdom  of  Apollo,  and 
the  unrivalled  labours  of  Hercules.  Hence  the 
Olympian,  Isthmian,  Pythian,  and  Nemean 
games,  which,  though  alike  founded  on  the 
same  principle  of  pious  gratitude,  were  from 
their  first  establishment,  distinguished  by  differ- 
ent ceremonies,  and  respectively  consecrated  to 
separate  divinities. 

The  Amphictyons  were  principally  indebted 
to  the  prudent  admonitions  of  Apollo  for  the 
fortunate  issue  of  a war  undertaken  by  his  au- 
thority ; it  therefore  became  them,  while  they 
rejoiced  in  the  happy  success  of  their  arms,  to 
offer  respectful  thanks  to  the  god.  These  ob- 
jects might  easily  be  conjoined  in  the  pleasing 
texture  of  ancient  superstition,  since  the  cele- 
bration of  the  Pythian  games,  which  had  been 
interrupted  by  a long  train  of  wars  and  calami- 
ties, would  form  an  entertainment  not  less 
agreeable  to  the  supposed  dictates  of  piety, 
than  adapted  to  the  natural  demands  of  plea- 
sure. 

The  festival  re-established  on  this  memora- 
ble occasion  in  honour  of  Apollo,  is  mentioned 
by  ancient  historians,  on  account  of  two  re- 
markable circumstances  by  which  it  was  dis- 
tinguished. Instead  of  the  scanty  rewards 
usually  distributed  among  the  gymnastic  com- 
batants at  other  public  solemnities,  the  Am- 
phictyons bestowed  on  the  victors  the  most 
precious  spoils  of  the  cities  Crissa  and  Cirrha. 
The  exhibitions  of  poetry  and  music  had 
hitherto  been  united  in  all  the  Grecian  festi- 
vals, and  the  laurel  crown  had  been  adjudged 
to  the  poet-musician,  who  enlivened  the  com- 
position of  his  genius  by  the  sound  of  his  lyre. 
The  Amphictyons  for  the  first  time  separated 
the  kindred  arts ; proposed  prizes  of  instru- 
mental music  unaccompanied  with  poetry,  and 
thus  afforded  an  opportunity  to  the  candidates 
for  fame  to  display  their  superior  merit  in  their 
respective  professions. 

These  are  the  only  particulars  concerning 
the  re-establishment  of  the  Pythian  games 
which  seemed  worthy  the  observation  of  Gre- 
cian authors, ^vhose  works  were  addressed  to 
men  who  knew  by  experience  and  observation 
the  nature  and  tendency  of  their  domestic  in- 
stitutions. But  a more  copious  explanation  is 
required  to  satisfy  the  curiosity  of  the  modern 
reader.  The  sacred  games  of  Greece  cannot 
be  illustrated  by  a comparison  with  any  thing 
similar  in  the  present  age ; they  were  intimately 
connected  with  the  whole  system  of  ancient 
polity,  whether  civil  or  religious ; they  were 
attended  with  very  extraordinary  effects,  both 
of  a natural  and  moral  kind ; and  on  all  these 
accounts  they  merit  particular  attention  in  a 
work  which  professes  to  unite  the  history  of 
arts  to  that  of  arms,  and  to  contemplate  the 
varying  picture  of  human  manners,  as  well  as 
the  transient  revolutions  of  war  and  empire. 

In  their  most  perfect  form  the  sacred  games 


[Chap. 

consisted  in  the  exhibitions  of  the  Stadium  and 
Hippodrome,  accompanied  by  the  more  refined 
entertainments  of  music  and  poetry.  The 
Olympic  Stadium  took  its  name  from  the  mea- 
sure of  length  most  commonly  employed  by 
the  Greeks,  consisting  of  the  eighth  part  of  a 
Grecian  mile,  or  six  hundred  and  thirty  English 
feet.  The  Stadium,  still  remaining  at  Athens, 
has  been  accurately  measured  by  our  travellers, 
and  is  a hundred  and  twrenty-five  geometrical 
paces  in  length,  and  twenty-seven  in  breadth  : 
it  forms  a long  and  lofty  terrace  on  the  banks 
of  the  Illyssus,  and  its  sides  were  anciently 
built  of  white  marble.  That  of  Olympia  was 
probably  of  the  same  dimensions,  but  far  less 
magnificent,  being  entirely  composed  of  earth. 
The  one  extremity  contained  an  elevated 
throne,  appropriated  for  the  judges  of  the 
games,  and  a marble  altar,  on  which  the  priest- 
ess of  Ceres,  and  other  privileged  virgins,  sat 
to  behold  a solemnity  from  which  the  rest  of 
their  sex  were  rigorously  excluded.  At  the 
other  extremity  was  the  tomb  of  Endymion, 
the  favourite  of  chaste  Diana.  The  Stadium 
was  divided  by  pillars  into  two  courses.  The 
five  gymnastic  exercises,  so  much  celebrated 
by  all  the,  writers  of  antiquity,  and  so  accu- 
rately described  by  Homer,  Pindar,  Sophocles, 
and  Pausanias,  began  with  the  foot  race,  which 
is  supposed  to  have  been  the  most  ancient,  and 
which  always  retained  the  prerogative  of  dis- 
tinguishing the  Olympiads  by  the  name  of  the 
victorious  racer.  The  exercise  at  first  consist- 
ed in  running  naked  from  one  end  of  the  Sta- 
dium to  the  other.  The  course  was  afterwards 
doubled,  and  at  length  the  competitors  were 
required  to  pass  the  goal  three,  six,  and  even 
twelve  times,  before  they  could  be  entitled  to 
the  prize.  Motives  of  utility  introduced  the 
race  of  men  loaded  with  heavy  armour,  which 
rendered  this  exercise  a contest  of  strength  as 
well  as  of  swiftness.  2.  The  second  trial  ot 
agility  consisted  in  leaping ; the  competitors  en- 
deavouring to  surpass  each  other  in  the  length, 
without  regard  to  the  height  of  their  leap. 
They  carried  in  their  hands  weights  of  lead, 
through  the  perforations  of  which  their  fingers 
passed  as  through  the  handle  of  a shield,  and 
by  these  they  poised,  and  impelled  forwards, 
their  bodies.  The  perfection  attained  in  th's 
exercise  must  have  far  exceeded  the  experience 
of  modem  times,  if  we  can  believe  that  Phau- 
lus  of  Crotona*  leaped  fifty -two  feet.  3.  The 
wrestling  of  the  ancients  required  equal  strength 
and  agility.  It  was  chiefly  remarkable  on  ac- 
count of  the  oil  and  sand  with  which  they  rub- 
bed their  bodies,  in  order  to  supple  their  joints, 
to  prevent  excessive  perspiration,  and  to  elude 
the  grasp  of  their  antagonists.  /The  wrestlers 
were  matched  by  lot,  and  tjHBrize  was  ad- 
judged to  him  Who  had  thric^Jrown  his  ad- 
versary on  the  ground.  4.  The  two  following 
exercises  tried  chiefly  the  strength  of  the  arms. 
The  first  consisted  in  throwing  a huge  mass  of 
polished  iron,  brass,  or  stone,  of  a circular  form, 
resembling  a shield,  but  without  handle  or 
thong.  It  was  called  the  disk,  and  thrown 
under  the  hand  as  the  quoit  is  in  England 


1 Paueanias,  p.  624. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


67 


V-] 

The  object  of  the  competitors  was  to  surpass 
each  other  in  the  length  of  the  cast.  Akin  to 
this  was  the  art  of  darting  the  javelin,  which, 
as  that  weapon  was  directed  at  a mark,  required 
steadiness  of  eye  as  well  as  dexterity  of  hand. 
5.  The  last  of  the  gymnastic  exercises  both  in 
order  and  in  esteem,  was  that  of  boxing.  It 
was  sometimes  performed  by  the  naked  fist, 
and  sometimes  with  the  formidable  csestus, 
composed  of  raw  hides  lined  with  metal.  Be- 
fore the  victory  could  be  decided,  it  was  neces- 
sary, from  the  nature  of  that  exercise,  that  one 
of  the  combatants  should  acknowledge  his  de- 
feat ; a condition  which  seemed  so  inconsistent 
with  the  obstinacy  of  Grecian  valour,  that  few 
ventured  to  contend  in  this  dangerous  amuse- 
ment. ■ The  laws  of  Sparta  absolutely  prohi- 
bited her  citizens  from  ever  engaging  in  it, 
because  a Spartan  was  taught  to  disdain  saving 
his  life  by  yielding  to  an  opponent.  Another 
reason,  no  less  remarkable,  tended  still  more 
to  degrade  the  exercise  of  boxing.  Besides 
strength  and  agility,  the  success  of  the  boxer 
depended  on  a certain  ponderous  fleshiness  of 
arm,  which  unfitted  him  to  engage  in  any  other 
contest.  The  regimen  required  for  keeping 
up  his  corpulency,  so  necessary  for  the  defence 
of  his  bones  against  the  weight  of  blows,  was 
altogether  incompatible  with  the  life  of  a sol- 
dier ; a life  of  hardship  and  inequality,  and 
continually  exposed  to  the  want  of  rest,  of  pro- 
visions, and  of  sleep. 

These  were  the  five  gymnastic  exercises  in 
which  the  Grecian  youth  were  trained  with  so 
much  care,  and  to  which  they  applied  with  so 
much  emulation.  But  besides  these  simple 
sports,  there  were  two  others  formed  of  their 
various  combination ; the  Panecratium,  which 
consisted  of  wrestling  and  boxing ; and  the 
Pentathlon,  in  which  all  the  five  were  united  ; 
and  to  excel  in  such  complicated  exercises  re- 
quired an  education  and  way  of  living  not  ne- 
cessary to  be  observed  by  those  who  contended 
in  the  simple  feats  of  strength  and  agility,  and 
which  was  scarcely  compatible  with  the  study 
of  any  other  than  the  athletic  profession. 

The  Hippodrome,  or  ground  allotted  for  the 
horse  races,  was  twice  as  long  as  the  Stadium,2 
and  sufficiently  spacious  to  allow  forty  chariots 
to  drive  abreast.3  The  chariot  race  was  insti- 
tuted at  Olympia  about  a hundred  years  after 
the  regular  celebration  of  the  games,  and  that 
of  riding  horses  twenty  years  later.  These 
warlike  sports  followed  the  same  progress  with 
the  military  art,  of  which  they  were  the  image, 
and  in  which  the  use  of  chariots  long  preceded 
that  of  cavalry.  The  cars  of  the  Greeks,  as 
evidently  appears  from  their  medals,  were  low, 
open  behind,  furnished  with  only  two  wheels, 
and  unprovided  with  any  seat  for  the  driver,  who 
stood,  with  much,  difficulty  in  the  body  of  his 
vehicle,  while  he  commanded  four  horses,  which 
were  not  paired  but  formed  on  one  line.  Not- 
withstanding this  inconvenient  posture  they 
performed  six  and  sometimes  twelve  rounds  of 
the  Hippodrome,  amounting  to  six  Grecian 
miles  of  eight  hundred  paces  each,  of  which 
an  English  mile  contains  one  thousand  five 


hundred  and  fifty.  The  Grecian  heroes  ex- 
celled, during  the  heroic  ages,  in  this  danger- 
ous exercise  ; but  in  later  times  the  owners  of 
the  horses  were  allowed  to  employ  a charioteer, 
which  enlarged  the  sphere  of  candidates  for 
the  Olympic  prize,  by  admitting  many  foreign 
princes,  as  well  as  the  wealthy  ladies  of  Mace- 
don  and  Laconia,  who  could  not  appear  in  per- 
son at  this  important  solemnity.  Though  riding- 
horses  were  not  so  early  employed  as  chariots, 
either  at  the  games,  or  in  war,  yet  we  cannot 
believe,  with  a fanciful  writer,4  that  this  cir- 
cumstance should  have  been  occasioned  by  the 
timidity  of  the  Greeks  to  mount  on  horseback  ; 
for  we  learn  from  Homer,  that,  even  in  the 
most  ancient  times,  they  were  acquainted  with 
all  the  feats  of  dexterity  performed  by  our  most 
accomplished  jockies.5  But  before  the  Persian 
war,  the  poverty  of  the  Greeks  prevented  them 
from  importing  foreign  horses,  and  their  do- 
mestic breed  was  naturally  of  an  inferior  kind 
to  those  of  Asia  and  Africa.  The  Spartans 
first  employed  them  in  battle  during  their  wars 
with  the  Messenians.  In  the  Persian  expedi- 
tion, Xerxes  tried  the  mettle  of  the  Persian, 
against  the  Thessalian  horses,  and  the  former 
carried  off  the  palm  in  every  contest.  For  a 
considerable  time  after  the  shameful  retreat  of 
that  haughty  monarch,  the  Athenians,  who 
then  formed  the  most  powerful  community  of 
Greece,  had  a squadron  of  only  three  hundred 
horsemen : and  it  was  not  till  that  ambitious 
republic  had  begun  to  extend  her  dominion 
over  the  inferior  states,  that  she  seriously  ap- 
plied to  the  improvement  of  her  cavalry. 

While  the  Greeks  thus  acquired  the  accom- 
plishments of  the  body,  and  displayed  at  Olym- 
pia their  skill  in  horsemanship,  and  their 
vigour  in  the  gymnastic  exercises,  the  more  re- 
fined entertainments  of  the  fancy  were  not  ne- 
glected ; and  the  agreeable  productions  of 
music  and  poetry  added  lustre  and  elegance  to 
every  Grecian  solemnity.  It  is  well  observed 
by  the  only  ancient  writer  to  whom  we  are 
indebted  for  a historical  account  of  Grecian 
music,  that  the  arts  of  peace,  as  they  are  more 
agreeable  and  more  useful  than  those  of  war, 
demand,  in  a superior  degree,  the  regard  of  the 
historian.  If  this  had  been  the  general  opinion 
of  authorsj  the  study  of  their  works  would  be 
equally  entertaining  and  instructive.  The 
writer  of  history  would  explain  the  various  dis- 
coveries which  happily  tend  to  improve  and  to 
embellish  social  life  ; by  introducing  scenes  of 
gayety  and  pleasure,  he  would  diversify  the 
eternal  theme  of  human  misery  ; and  while  he 
expatiated  on  the  crimes  and  calamities  of  men, 
he  would  not  neglect  to  point  out  the  means 
best  adapted  to  prevent  the  perpetration  of  the 
one,  and  to  sooth  the  suffering  of  the  other. 
But  the  Greek  historians  have  not  attempted 
to  afford  us  this  important  information  ; they 
enlarge  copiously  on  such  topics  as  are  adapted 
to  the  use  of  their  countrymen  ; and  they  pre- 
serve the  most  mortifying  silence  concerning 
those  subjects  which  deservedly  excite  the  cu- 
riosity of  later  ages.  Of  all  the  arts  cultivated 
by  the  ingenuity  of  their  contemporaries,  music 


2 Hesychius. 


3 Pausan.  1.  vi.  p.  382,  et  390. 


4 The  Chevalier  Folard. 


5 Tliad  xv.  ver.  679 


68 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


was  the  most  connected  with  religion,  govern- 
ment, and  manners  ; and  the  effects  ascribed 
to  Grecian  music  are  numbered  among  the 
most  singular  as  well  as  the  most  authentic  of 
all  recorded  events  yet  as  to  the  nature,  the 
origin,  the  progress,  the  perfection,  in  one  word, 
the  history  of  this  art,  we  can  know  little  more 
than  what  we  learn  from  the  musical  treatise 
of  Plutarch,  to  which  we  have  above  alluded, 
which  is  extremely  short  and  imperfect,  ob- 
scure throughout,  and  in  many  parts  unintelli- 
gible.1 2 

Without  much  historical  information,  how- 
ever, we  may  venture  to  explain  the  introduc- 
tion of  musical  entertainments  at  the  four  pub- 
lic solemnities.  These  grand  spectacles  were 
destined  to  exhibit  an  embellished  representa- 
tion of  the  ordinary  transactions  of  real  life, 
and  while  the  gymnastic  and  equestrian  exer- 
cises represented  the  image  of  war,  the  most 
serious  occupation  of  the  Greeks,  music  re- 
called the  memory  of  religion  and  love,  their 
most  agreeable  amusements.  Besides  this,  as 
music  in  those  early  times  was  closely  connect- 
ed with  poetry,3  and  as  the  use  of  prose  com- 
position was  not  known  in  Greece  till  the  time 
of  Pherecydes  of  Syros,  and  Cadmus  of  Mile- 
tus, who  flourished  only  five  hundred  and  forty- 
four  years  before  Christ,4  the  name  of  music 
naturally  comprehended  all  the  learning  of  the 
age  ; and  to  obtain  the  prize  in  the  musical 
contests,  was  equivalent  to  the  glory  of  being 
declared  superior  to  the  rest  of  mankind  in 
mental  abilities  and  endowments. 

These  abilities  and  endowments  were  an- 
ciently regarded  in  proportion  to  their  utility. 
Before  the  practice  of  writing  was  introduced, 
the  history  of  past  events  could  be  preserved 
only  by  tradition  ; and  tradition  was  rendered 
more  sure  and  permanent,  by  being  committed 
to  the  safe  protection  of  harmonious  numbers.5 
The  customary  offices  of  religion  were  cele- 
brated in  poetical  composition,  and  the  various 
hymns  appropriated  to  the  worship  of  parti- 
cular divinities,  were  retained  by  the  faithful 
memory  of  their  respective  votaries.  The 
tuneful  tribe,  who  were  thus  employed  to  extol 
the  bounty  of  the  gods,  to  exalt  the  glory  of 
heroes,  and  to  record  and  perpetuate  the  accu- 
mulated wisdom  of  antiquity,  condescended 
also  to  regulate  the  duties,  and  to  improve  the 
pleasures,  of  private  life.  The  same  bards  who 
taught  the  men  to  be  brave,  exhorted  the  wo- 
men to  be  chaste.6  Poetry,  together  with  the 


1 The  continual  complaints  of  Plato  and  Aristotle  prove 
that  the  music  of  their  age  had  greatly  degenerated  from 
its  ancient  dignity.  It  afterwards  continued,  like  all  the 
other  arts,  gradually  to  decline  ; yet,  in  the  second  century 
before  Christ,  the  grave,  judicious,  and  well-informed  Po- 
lybius ascribes  the  most  extraordinary  effects  to  the  Grecian 
music.  Polybius,  1.  iv.  c.  xx.  et  seq. 

2 Mr.  Burette,  a French  physician,  has  translated  this 
treatise  in  the  tenth  volume  of  the  Memoirs  of  the  Acade- 
my, &c.  He  finds  fewer  difficulties  in  it,  than  present 
themselves  to  men  far  better  acquainted  with  the  theory 
and  practice  of  this  elegant  art.  See  Burney  on  Music, 
vol.  i.  p.  36. 

3 The  same  words  signified  a song  and  a poem,  a musician 
anti  a poet;  <«>£<**,  xo-ftxrx  ; uSoi)  wSix. ot,  xoiSot.  Hesych. 

4 Strabo,  1.  i. 

5 Si  tlTTHV  0 7Tt£ Of  \0y0(  XXTXITXSVXTIXSVOg  fit/XH/UX 

tou  it onj-rncou  trrrr  rr^iaria-Tx  yxg  vi  ttoiv\t iv.v\  xxTx<rxtvv\ 
wug*\btv  ng  to  /ut<rov.  Strabo,  1 i. 

6 Of  this  we  have  an  example  in  Homer's  Demodicus. 


[Chap. 

sister  arts  of  music  and  dancing,  are  elegantly 
called  by  Homer  the  chief  ornaments  of  the 
feast.  The  poet  musician  quelled  seditions  in 
states,7  and  maintained  the  domestic  quiet  of 
families  ; while  he  published  laws  of  the  most 
extensive  influence  over  the  whole  community, 
he  disdained  not  to  animate  the  humble  but 
necessary  labours  of  the  mechanic : every  pro 
fession  in  society,  even  the  meanest  and  most 
vulgar,  was  encouraged  and  adorned  by  its 
particular  song  ;8  and  the  most  ordinary  trans- 
actions of  common  life,  however  trivial  and 
low,  and  uninteresting  in  themselves,  were 
heightened  and  ennobled  by  the  combined 
charm  of  music  and  poetry. 

The  degree  of  perfection  in  which  these  arts 
are  found  in  any  country,  depends  on  the  lan- 
guage and  character  of  the  people  by  whom 
they  are  cultivated.  Of  this  there  is  abundant 
proof  in  the  history  of  ancient,  as  well  as  in  that 
of  modem  nations.  The  melancholy,  stern,9 
atrocious,  and  unrelenting  temper  of  the  Egyp- 
tians (the  supposed  instructers  of  Greece)  dis- 
qualified that  nation  either  for  improving  or  for 
relishing  the  beauties  of  harmony.  The  harsh 
dissonance  of  the  eastern  languages,  their  defi- 
ciency in  vowels,  and  the  inflexible  thickness 
of  their  sounds,  rendered  them  but  little  sus- 
ceptible of  musical  composition.  The  music 
of  the  Egyptians  and  Orientals  therefore  de- 
pended rather  on  the  quantity  than  the  quality 
of  sound;  and  the  principal  object  of  their  art 
was  rather  to  rouse  the  attention  by  noise,  than 
to  charm  the  soul  by  melody. 

The  language  and  manners  of  the  Greeks 
were  of  a different  and  a far  superior  kind,  to 
those  of  the  neighbouring  nations.  Hence  may 
be  deduced  the  origin  and  peculiar  excellence 
of  their  music,  which,  though  injudiciously16 
ascribed  to  the  invention  of  Thracians,  Mysians, 
and  other  barbarous  strangers,  must  have  been 
the  natural  production  of  Grecian  genius,  since 
the  three  most  ancient  modes  of  music  were 
the  Dorian,  Ionian,  and  Eolian,  corresponding 
with  the  three  great  divisions  of  the  Hellenic 
race,  and  the  three  principal  distinctions  of  the 
Hellenic  tongue.11 

The  perfection  of  language,  as  well  as  ol 
music,  depends  on  the  melody  of  its  sounds ; 
their  measure  or  rhythm ; their  variety ; and 
their  suitableness  to  the  subject  which  they  are 

7 Pee  what  is  said  above  of  Tyrtseus,  p.  56. 

8 See  Atherueus  passim,  and  the  discourses  on  the  Greek 
songs,  in  the  third  volume  of  the  excellent  selection  of  the 
Memoirs  of  the  Academy. 

9 The  nature  of  the  government  furnishes  another  reason 
for  the  imperfection  of  Egyptian  music.  Homer  character- 
ises Egypt  by  the  epithet Tixgog,  bitter,  to  denote  the  rigid 
severity  of  the  laws.  Among  that  grave  and  formal  peo- 
ple, the  hours  of  amusement,  as  well  as  of  business,  were 
prescribed  by  law.  There  was  a particular  time  of  the  day, 
not  only  for  attending  the  courts  of  justice, but  for  walking, 
bathing,  and  even  for  performing  the  duties  of  matrimony. 
Diodor.  Siculus.  Poetry,  music,  sculpture,  and  all  other 
arts  were  regulated  by  express  statute ; and  if  we  may  be- 
lieve Plato,  continued  invariable  for  m->ny  thousand  years 
Plato  de  Legibus.  The  austeritv  and  rsstraints  of  despot- 
ism are  inconsistent  with  that  flowing  freedom  of  genius 
necessary  to  the  perfection  of  poetry. 

10  While  detraction  referred  the  discovery  of  music  to 
strangers,  vanitv  referred  it  to  the  gods;  and  both  accounts 
serve  to  prove  the  great  antiquity  of  the  art,  Plut.  de  Music. 

1 1 We  owe  the  knowledge  of  this  important  circumstance 
to  Heraclides  of  Pontus,  the  contemporary  and  scholar  of 
Plato.  His  words  are  cited  by  Athenaeus,  1.  xiv. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


69 


v.) 

meant  to  describe  or  to  express.  The  circum- 
stances of  the  Greeks  in  the  earliest  periods  of 
their  society,12  rendered  them  peculiarly  atten- 
tive to  all  these  objects.  They  lived  continually 
in  crowds ; all  matters  of  consequence  were 
decided  by  the  voice  of  the  assembly ; and,  next 
to  the  force  of  his  arm,  every  warrior  felt  him- 
self indebted  to  the  persuasive  accents  of  his 
tongue.  The  perpetual  necessity  of  employing 
the  power  of  eloquence  during  the  infancy  of 
their  political  state,  made  them  retain  the  origi- 
nal tones  and  cadences  by  which  men,  as  yet 
unpractised  in  the  use  of  arbitrary  signs,  had 
made  known  their  affections  and  their  wants. 
These  tones  and  cadences,  imitating  the  lan- 
guage of  action  (the  first  and  most  natural 
language  of  solitary  savages,)  possessed  a de- 
gree of  energy  and  of  warmth  which  can  neyer 
be  attained  by  the  mere  artifice  of  articulate 
sounds.13  By  uniting  them  to  these  sounds, 
the  Greeks  gave  all  the  force  of  a natural,  to 
an  arbitrary  sign.  Music  and  action  were  in- 
corporated in  the  substance  of  their  speech ; and 
the  descriptive  power  of  words  was  extended 
to  all  those  objects  which  can  be  characterized 
by  sound  and  motion,  or  which  the  various 
modifications  of  these  qualities  can  suggest  to 
the  mind  of  man. 

A language  thus  founded  on  the  broad  basis 
of  nature,  contained  within  itself  the  fruitful 
seeds  of  the  imitative  arts,  and  the  rich  mate- 
rials of  all  that  is  beautiful  and  grand  in  literary 
composition.14  It  is  a subject  of  equal  curiosity 
and  importance,  to  examine  how  these  materials 
were  wrought  up,  and  how  these  seeds  were 
unfolded.  In  attempting,  with  much  diffidence, 
to  give  some  account  of  this  delicate  and  re- 
fined operation,  we  shall  observe  the  division 
above  mentioned,  and  consider  the  melody, 
measure,  variety,  and  expression  of  the  Gre- 
cian poetry  and  music ; arts  once  deemed  so 
intimately  connected,  that  their  disjunction  at 
the  Pythian  games,  of  which  we  have  already 
taken  notice,  was  emphatically  compared  by 
ancient  writers  to  the  separation  of  the  soul 
and  body. 

The  pleasure  arising  from  the  agreeable  suc- 
cession of  sounds  depends  either  on  the  combi- 
nation of  letters,  or  on  that  of  musical  tones.15 
The  attention  which  the  Greeks  paid  to  the 
former,  is  evident  from  the  whole  structure  of 
their  language.  Wherever  propriety  permits,16 
they  always  employ  full,  open,  and  magnifi- 
cent^ sounds  ; innumerable  rules  of  flexion  and 
derivation  are  founded  merely  on  the  pleasure 
of  the  ear ; and  the  great  principle  of  the  fine 


arts,  to  move  and  affect,  without  fatiguing  the 
senses,  cannot  be  better  illustrated  than  by  the 
inimitable  composition18  of  elements  which  cha- 
racterizes the  general  texture  of  the  Grecian 
tongue.  Whether  the  ancient  poet?  and  orators 
discovered  this  composition  by  investigation, 
or  only  preferred  it  from  taste,  is  a question 
that  may  be  easily  answered,  if  we  reflect,  that 
such  a discovery  by  investigation  supposes  an 
acquaintance  with  the  most  abstruse  principles 
of  philosophy,  principles  altogether  unknown 
in  that  early  age,  during  which  the  composition 
of  elemental  sounds  attained  its  highest  beauty 
and  perfection.  We  may  therefore  without 
temerity  conclude,  that  sentiment  first  directed 
to  the  practice  of  those  rules  which  reason 
afterwards  approved ; and  that  this  progress 
equally  obtained  in  the  articulation  of  voice, 
and  the  intonation  of  sound. 

The  latter , the  agreeable  composition  of 
which  is  properly  styled  melody,  was  improved 
to  such  an  extraordinary  degree  about  the  time 
of  Homer,  as  rendered  the  productions  of 
Olympus,  and  other  ancient  poet-musicians, 
the  admiration  of  all  succeeding  ages.  Unfor- 
tunately for  the  history  of  the  arts,  we  have  not 
any  such  analysis  of  the  music  of  Olympus,  as 
Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  has  left  us  of  the 
poetry  of  Homer.  We  are  informed,  however, 
that  the  ancient  melody  was  not  only  divided, 
like  the  modern,  by  tones  and  semi-tones,  but 
also  distinguished  by  the  diesis,  or  quarter-tone ; 
an  interval  of  which  modern  musicians  rarely 
make  use.  The  genus  of  music,  regulated  by 
this  interval,  a genus  to  which  the  most  pow- 
erful effects  are  ascribed  by  ancient  writers, 
was  known  by  the  name  of  the  enharmonic; 
the  genus,  proceeding  by  semitones,  was  called 
the  chromatic;  and  the  diatonic,  which  denotes 
a progression  by  tones  and  semitones,  expressed 
a musical  scale  nearly  resembling  that  of  the 
modern  nations  of  Europe.19 

These  observations  will  give  the  reader  an 
idea  of  the  intervals  in  the  different  genera . 
which  is  all  that  we  can  learn  on  this  subject 
from  the  learned  collection  of  Meibomius.  In 
none  qf  the  musical  treatises  in  that  collection 
do  we  find  any  specimen  of  ancient  melody ; 
nor  are  we  enabled,  by  any  circumstance  men- 
tioned in  them,  to  ascertain  the  qualities  which 
formed  its  principal  merit.  The  invention  of 
the  enharmonic  genus  is  ascribed  by  Plutarch 
to  Olympus,  who,  happening  to  skip  certain 
intervals  in  the  diatonic  scale,  observed  the 
beauty  of  the  effect,  and  the  peculiar  force  and 
character  which  the  regular  omission  of  the 
same  intervals  bestowed  on  the  melody.  Upon 
this  observation,  he  is  said  to  have  founded  a 
new  genus  of  music  remarkable  for  simplicity, 
gravity,  and  grandeur.  These  qualities  might, 
doubtless,  be  produced  by  the  happy  discovery, 

18  As  all  languages  are  relative  to  (he  organs  of  speech, 
they  may  all  be  analvzcd  into  about  twenty-four  letters,  or 
elemental  sounds,  the  combination  of  which  forms  the 
wonderful  variety  of  language;  a variety  resulting  from  the 
respective  characters  and  circumstances  of different  nations. 

19  It  is  sufficient  to  explain  the  things  signified  by  the  x 
enharmonic  and  diatonic.  When,  or  why,  these  names 
were  bestowed  on  the  two  kinds  of  music  which  they 
respectively  denote,  is  disputed  by  philologists ; and  I have 
not  met  with  any  thing  on  the  subject  that  seemed  worthy 
of  being  transcribed. 


12  See  above,  chap.  ii. 

13  See  an  excellent  discourse  of  the  Ahb6  Arnaut,  on  the 
Greek  accents,  in  the  third  volume  of  the  Choix  do  Memoirs. 

14  These  words  very  inadequately  express  the  and 
the  **xo f of  Dionysius,  de  Struct.  Orat.  The  ingenious 
and  philosophical  critic  ranges  under  two  heads,  the  quali- 
ties of  style  fitted  to  please  the  ear  and  the  imagination. 
These  are  the  sweet,  and  the  fair.  Under  the  first  are 
contained  smoothness,  beauty,  grace,  persuasion,  fee.  Un- 
der the  second,  dignity,  weight,  magnificence,  and  force. 
The  two  kinds  of  style  have  a similar  relation  to  each 
other,  which  the  pleasures  of  the  taste,  expressed  by  the 
word  >i£vc,  have  to  those  of  the  eye,  expressed  by  xxKog. 

15  Dionysius  comprehends  both  under  the  word  f*r\ o$, 
melndv. 

16  The  to  jTfurov,  Dionysius  observes,  may  sometimes 
require  harsh,  close,  and  disagreeable  sounds. 

17  The  (ttya\07Tf  i*t«j  of  Dionysius. 


> 


seconded  by  tlie  lofty  genius  of  Olympus ; and 
to  them,  perhaps,  we  may  refer  the  enthusiasm 
and  sublimity  by  which  his  compositions  were 
distinguished.  The  employing  of  the  greater 
intervals  supported  the  dignity  and  character, 
while  the  use  of  the  diesis  chiefly  contributed 
to  the  refinement  and  delicacy,  of  Grecian 
music.  The  bold  separation  of  notes  expressed 
the  firmer  feelings,  and  described  the  stronger 
emotions  of  the  soul ; while  the  more  insensible 
distinctions  of  sound  painted  the  innumerable 
shades  and  faint  fluctuations  of  passion ; as 
when  the  voice,  gradually  ascended  through  the 
smallest  perceptible  divisions,  it  would  admira- 
bly express  the  progress  of  a respectful  but 
ardent  affection,  unable  to  hide,  yet  afraid  to 
reveal  its  force,  and  striving  by  repeated  efforts 
to  overcome  its  natural  timidity. 

But  by  whatever  conjectures  we  may  explain 
the  powers  of  ancient  enharmonic,  it  appears 
from  the  universal  consent  of  Greek  writers, 
that  the  melody  of  music  and  of  language 
differed  only  in  degree,  not  in  kind.  The 
variations  of  accent , for  that  is  the  proper  word 
to  express  the  melody  of  language,  seldom 
exceeded,  in  common  discourse,  the  difference 
of  three  notes  and  a half ; which  makes  Dio- 
nysius observe,  that  it  never  exceeds  the  com- 
pass of  one  interval,  the  diapente,  or  fifth.  He 
pretends  not,  however,  that  in  rhetorical  decla- 
mation, the  flexions  of  the  voice  were  so  nar- 
rowly circumscribed  ; and  it  is  probable  that  in 
poetry,  their  range  was  always  more  extensive 
than  in  the  most  animated  prose.  When  the 
poet  therefore  composed  his  verse,  he  was 
obliged  to  pay  an  equal  attention  to  accent 
and  to  quantity:  the  acuteness  and  gravity  of 
sounds,  as  well  as  the  length  and  shortness  of 
syllables,  contributed  to  the  effect  of  his  art; 
and  each  particular  word  having  not  only  its 
determined  duration,  but  its  appropriated  tones, 
obtained  that  place  in  the  verse  which  was  felt 
to  be  most  agreeable  to  the  ear,  and  best 
adapted  to  the  subject.  The  poet  therefore 
naturally  performed  the  office  of  the  musician, 
and  clothed  his  own  thoughts  and  sentiments 
with  that  combination  of  sounds,  which  ren- 
dered them  most  beautiful  and  expressive. 

As  accent  regulated  the  melody,  quantity 
regulated  the  rhythm  of  ancient  music.  The 
most  melodious  succession  of  tones,  however 
flattering  to  the  ear,  must  soon  become  tire- 
some and  disagreeable,  when  continued  with- 
out interruption  or  pause,  and  undistinguished 
by  such  proportions  of  duration,  as  are  readily 
seized  and  measured  by  the  senses.  This  truth 
the  Greeks  illustrated  by  a comparison.  The 
most  brilliant  composition  of  colours  is  nothing 
better,  they  observed,  than  a gaudy  show,  daz- 
zling the  sight  for  a moment,  but  passing  after- 
wards disregarded  and  unobserved.  But  to 
this  showy  colouring  let  the  painter  add  the 
solid  beauties  of  design,  and  he  will  convert  an 
empty  amusement  of  the  eye.  into  an  elegant 
entertainment  to  the  fancy.  What  design  is  to 
colouring,  measure  is  to  melody.  It  is  measure 
that  animates  the  song,  and  which,  combined 
with  the  inimitable  charms  of  Grecian  verse, 
produced  those  extraordinary  effects,  which  the 
ignorance  and  credulity  of  early  ages  weakly  | 


[Chap. 

deemed  miraculous.  On  measure  principally 
depended  the  different  modes  of  music,  by  which 
the  most  opposite  passions  were  alternately  ex- 
cited in  the  mind  ; and  courage,  pride,  timidity, 
love,  anger,  resentment,  successively  diffused 
through  a numerous  assembly,  at  the  will  of  a 
skilful  composer.  The  difference  of  modes, 
indeed,  arose  also,  in  some  measure,  from  the 
difference  of  key  ; and  the  same  succession  of 
sounds,  pronounced  with  various  degrees  of 
acuteness  or  gravity,  may  doubtless  produce 
effects  more  or  less  powerful;  but  dissimilar 
effects  it  never  can  produce ; so  that  the 
grandeur  of  the  Doric,  the  polished  elegance 
of  the  Ionic,  the  soothing  sweetness  of  the  Eolic 
mode,1  must  have  resulted  from  the  rhythm 
or  measure,  which  governing  the  movement  of 
the  verse,  thereby  determined  its  expression. 

Besides  these  three  modes,  formerly  men- 
tioned asfthe  original  invention  of  Greece,  the 
natives  of  that  country  gradually  adopted  seve- 
ral others  that  had  been  discovered  by  the 
neighbouring  nations ; particularly  the  Phry- 
gian, consecrated  to  religious  ceremonies,  and 
the  Lydian,  appropriated  to  the  expression  of 
complaint  or  sorrow.  The  variety,  indeed,  at 
length  became  greater  than  can  be  easily  con- 
ceived by  such  as  are  unacquainted  with  the 
mechanism  of  ancient  languages.  Every  spe- 
cies of  verse  (and  of  verse  there  were  above  a 
hundred  different  kinds)  occasioned  a change 
of  musical  measure,  and  introduced  what,  in 
musical  language,  may  be  called  a different 
time.  These  measures  were  only  to  be  em- 
ployed agreeably  to  the  rules  of  propriety  and 
decorum,  which  had  been  discovered  in  those 
great  principles  of  nature,  to  which  all  rules  of 
art  must  ultimately  be  referred.  A slow  suc- 
cession of  lengthened  tones  expressed  modera- 
tion and  firmness  ; a rapid  inequality  of  verse 
betrayed  disorderly  and  ignoble  passions ; the 
mind  was  transported  by  sudden  transitions, 
and  roused  by  impetuous  reiterations  of  sound  ; 
a gradual  ascent  of  notes  accorded  with  all 
those  affections  which  warm  and  expand  the 
heart ; and  the  contrary  movement  naturally 
coincided  with  such  sentiments  as  depress  the 
spirits,  and  extinguish  the  generous  ardour  of 
the  soul.  Having  fixed,  with  the  most  accurate 
precision,  the  wide  variety  of  modes  and  genera, 
the  Greeks  seldom  confounded  them  with  the 
same  piece,  and  never  applied  them  to  any 
subject  which  they  had  not  been  originally  des- 
tined to  express.  The  natural  perceptions  of 
taste  were  gradually  strengthened  by  habit;  the 
principles  of  music  were  clearly  ascertained, 
and  universally  understood  ; and  possessing 
the  warmth  and  energy  of  the  language  of  na- 
ture, they  acquired  the  perspicuity  and  extent 
of  the  language  of  convention.  This  is  justly 
deemed  the  height  of  musical  perfection,2  and 
to  this  height  the  Greeks  had  attained,  in  the 
beginning  of  the  sixth  century  before  Christ. 


1 Lucian.  Harmon,  sub  initio,  et  Heraclid.  apud  Athe- 
naeum, 1.  xiv. 

2 The  question,  whether  the  Greeks  knew  music  in  parts, 
has  boon  carefully  examined  by  Mr.  Burette  (Memoires  de 
l’Academie  des  Inscriptions;)  by  Rousseau  (Dictionarie  de 
Mnsique ;)  and  by  Dt.  Burney  (History  of  Music,  vol.  i.  p 

I 146,  et  seq ) These  writers  who  are  so  well  entitled  to 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


VI.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


71 


CHAPTER  VI. 


The  Grecian  Bards — Heroic  Poetry — Change  o 
Callinus  Mimnermus — Life  of  Archilochus- 
Poels — Sappho , Alcaeus.  Anacreon , Myrlis,  C 
Strength — Courage — Contempt  of  Prejudices- 
Genius. 

T>OETRY  has  described  the  wonderful  ef- 
-*■  fects  of  Grecian  music  ; and  the  inimitable 
excellence  of  ancient  poets  can  alone  render  the 
description  credible.  Yet  the  early  perfection 
of  these  elegant  arts,  asserted  by  the  gravest 
writers  of  antiquity,  seems  extremely  incon- 
sistent with  the  received  doctrines  concerning 
the  progress  of  civil  society.  Both  in  the  ancient 
and  modern  world,  the  great  system  of  practi- 
cal knowledge,  subservient  to  the  useful  pur- 
poses of  human  life,  appears  to  have  been 
slowly  raised,  and  gradually  extended,  by  suc- 
cessive trials,  and  reiterated  efforts.  Among 
savages,  scarcely  any  distinction  of  professions 
takes  place  ; the  activity  of  each  individual 
supplies  his  own  wants.  During  the  inter- 
mediate stages  of  society,  men  are  still  con- 
demned to  a wide  variety  of  occupations  ; and 
their  attention  being  distracted  by  a multipli- 
city of  pursuits,  it  is  impossible  that,  in  any  one 
art,  they  should  reach  proficiency,  or  even  as- 
pire to  excellence.  But,  contrary  to  this  ob- 
servation, the  Grecian  music  and  poetry  are 
represented  as  most  perfect  in  their  united 
state  ; the  immortal  fathers  of  verse  excelled 
alike,  it  is  said,  in  all  the  various  kinds  of  poeti- 
cal composition  ;* * 3  and  their  inimitable  produc- 
tions were  so  far  from  advancing,  by  a gradual 
progress,  to  perfection,  that  the  most  ancient 
are,  by  universal  consent,  entitled  to  a just 
preference.4 

The  history  of  these  admired  authors  is,  un- 
fortunately, as  uncertain,  as  their  merit  was 
illustrious.  The  Greeks  possessing  much  tra- 
ditionary and  little  recorded  information  con- 
cerning the  antiquities  of  their  country,  the 
great  inventors  of  arts,  and  generous  benefac- 
tors of  society,  have  been  deprived  of  their 
merited  fame  and  well-earned  honours.  Their 
names  indeed,  like  firm  rocks  resisting  the  as- 
saults of  the  ocean,  bid  defiance  to  the  depre- 


decirfe  on  this  subject,  pronounce  the  Greeks  to  have  been 

unacquainted  with  counterpoint.  But  that  their  ignorance 
in  this  respect  did  not  detract  from  the  perfection,  or  di- 
minish the  effects  of  their  music,  may  be  credited  on  the 
unsuspicious  testimony  of  an  ingenious  Italian.  u II  ccfntra 
punto,  essendo  composito  di  varie  parti,  l’una  acuta,  l’altera 
grave,  questa  di  andamento  presto,  quella  di  tardo,  que 
bamio  a trovarsi  itisieme,  et  ferir  1’orecchie  ad  un  tempo, 
come  potrebbe  egli  muovere  melPanimo  nostro,  una  tal  do- 
terminata  passione,  la  quale,  di  sua  natura,  rechiede  un  de- 
terminate moto,  et  un  doterminato  tuono"?”  Algorotti, 
Saggio  sopra  I’Opera  in  Musica. 

3 We  are  told  by  Aristotle,  in  the  4th  chapter  of  his 
Poetics,  that  Horner  wrote  an  iambic  poem,  entitled  Mar- 
gites,  bearing  the  same  relation  to  comedy  and  satire,  that 
the  Wind  bears  to  tragedy  and  panegyric.  Notwithstanding 
the  express  testimony  of  the  great  critic,  two  very  elegant 
scholars  have  said,  that  the  hexameter  was  the  only  kind 
of  verse  known  in  the  time  of  Homer  ; the  Abb6  Arnauf,  in 
his  excellent  discourse  on  the  Greek  accents,  and  Mr.  Bu- 
rette, in  his  Commentary  on  Plut.  de  Music. 

4 Grsecorum  antiquissima  quaeque  scripta  vel  optima. 
Horat.  Epist.  1.  ii.  Ep.  1. 


r Manners — Iambic  or  Satire — Elegy — Tyrtceus , 
—Terpander — Lyric  Poetry — The  Nine  Lyric 
rrinna , Pindar — Effects  of  the  Sacred  Games — 
-Taste — Moral  Principle — Intellectual  Powers — 

dations  of  time ; but  of  Linus,  Orpheus,  Mu- 
saeus,  and  Melampus,  little  else  than  the  names 
remain  ; and  to  determine  the  time  in  which 
they  flourished,  was  a matter  of  as  much  diffi- 
culty two  thousand  years  ago,5  as  it  remains  in 
the  present  age. 

Since  even  the  chronology  of  the  ancient 
bards  is  so  extremely  uncertain,6  it  cannot  be 
expected  that  we  should  be  able  to  give  a cir- 
cumstantial account  of  their  life  and  writings. 
Instead  of  considering  minutely,  therefore,  the 
private  history  of  individuals,  a task  which 
suits  neither  the  design  of  the  present  work,, 
nor  the  incredulity  of  the  present  age,  we  shall 
endeavour  to  explain  the  general  nature  and 
tendency  of  their  profession,  as  well  as  the  cir- 
cumstances which  conspired  to  raise  it  to  that 
rank  and  dignity  which  it  long  held  in  society. 
During  the  heroic  ages,  the  Grecian  poets  had 
one  uniform  character  ; and  if  we  may  depend 
on  the  positive  assertions  of  antiquity,  the  same 
individual  was  alike  successful  in  the  various 
branches  of  his  divine  art.7  The  earliest  poets, 
therefore,  may  be  represented  in  one  picture, 
and  delineated  by  the  same  strokes,  until  their 
profession  came  to  be  separated  into  different 
departments.  We  shall  then  distinguish  the 
heroic,  iambic,  lyric,  elegiac,  and  other  kinds 
of  poetical  composition ; offer  some  account  of 
the  improvers  of  each  particular  species ; and 


5  Herodotus,  who  reads  his  history  at  the  Olympic 
games  444  years  B.  C.  expresses  himself  as  follows:  “Ho- 
mer and  Hesiod  lived  about  four  hundred  years  ago;  not 
more ; and  these  are  the  poets  who  composed  a Theogony 
for  the  Greeks  : who  assigned  to  the  gods  their  respective 
appellations  and  epithets;  distinguished  their  several  forms; 
and  defined  the  arts  in  which  they  excelled,  and  the  honours 
to  which  they  were  entitled.  As  to  the  poets  who  are  sup- 
posed to  have  preceded  them,  I am  of  opinion  that  they 
flourished  in  a later  age.”  According  to  Herodotus,  there- 
fore, the  age  of  Homer  is  fifty  years  later  than  it  is  placed 
by  the  marbles  of  Paros.  But  on  this  subject  we  have  surer 
evidence  than  any  monuments  of  marble,  or  even  the  testi- 
mony of  Herodotus  can  afford.  The  circumstantial  minute- 
ness, ahd  infinite  variety,  which  characterise  the  Iliad  and 
Odyssey,  prove  their  inimitable  author  to  have  lived  near 
the  times  which  he  describes.  He  conversed  in  his  youth 
with  those  who  had  seen  the  heroes  of  the  Trojan  war, 
and,  in  the  vigour  of  his  age,  beheld  the  grandchildren  of 
ASneas,  Ulysses,  Achilles,  and  Agamemnon. 

Nuv  Ss  Aiveixo  ysvoj  t^m istit* 

Kxi  irxiXsf  Traiowv  to*  jcsv  ^to irta-Qi  yivuiv ra»  Iliad, 
xx.  ver.  306. 

The  learned  reader  may  consult  the  note  on  the  passage  in 
Clark’s  Homer,  where  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  is 
quote:!,  to  prove  that  the  poet  says  nothing  inconsistent 
with  iEneas’  voyage  into  Italy.  It  is  to  be  observed,  that 
the  force  of  the  criticism  evaporates  in  Mr.  Pope’s  transla- 
tion. 

6 The  preceding  note  proves  the  ignorance  of  Herodotus, 
and  his  contemporaries,  concerning  the  history  of  their  an- 
cient bards;  since  of  those  venerable  fathers  of  the  Grecian 
religion  and  policy,  two  are  mentioned  by  Homer  himself; 
Linus,  in  the  description  of  the  shield  of  Achilles,  II.  xviii.- 
Melampus,  in  the  11th  book  of  the  Odyssey,  ver.  15. 

7 There  are  not  any  two  kinds  of  poetry  more  difleren 
than  those  ascribed  to  Homer  by  Aristotle,  Poetic,  chap,  iv 


72 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


ixamine  such  fragments  of  their  works  as  de- 
serve attention,  not  merely  on  account  of  their 
own  intrinsic  merit,  but  as  genuine  and  authen- 
tic, and  indeed  the  only  genuine  and  authentic 
transcripts  of  the  manners  of  that  early  age  in 
which  they  were  composed. 

In  ancient  Greece,  the  favourites  of  fortune 
were  often  the  favourites  of  the  muses.  There 
remain  not,  indeed,  the  works  of  any  Grecian 
king  ; but  we  are  told  by  Homer,  that  Achilles 
sung  to  his  lyre  the  glory  of  heroes  ; Amphion, 
to  whose  musical  powers  such  wonderful1  ef- 
fects are  ascribed,  reigned  in  Thebes  ; the  poet 
Melampus  obtained  royal  authority  in  Argos  ; 
and  Chiron,  the  wise  Centaur,2  though  de- 
scended of  the  most  illustrious  ancestors,  and 
entitled  to  the  first  rank  among  the  Thessalian 
princes,  preferred  to  the  enjoyment  of  power, 
the  cultivation  of  poetry,  and  retired,  with 
his  favourite  muses,  to  a solitary  cavern  at  the 
foot  of  mount  Pelion,  which  was  soon  rendered, 
by  the  fame  of  his  abilities,  the  most  celebrated 
school  of  antiquity.3 

The  musical  arts  were  not  only  deemed 
worthy  the  ambition  of  princes,  but  thought 
capable  of  elevating  ordinary  men  to  the  first 
ranks  in  society.  By  excelling  in  such  ac- 
complishments, Anthes  of  Boeotia,  Olen  of 
Lycia,  Olympus  of  Phrygia,4  obtained  the 
highest  pre-eminence.  Nor  was  it  during  their 
life-time  only  that  they  enjoyed  the  happy  fruits 
of  their  elegant  labours.  They  were  regarded 
as  peculiarly  deserving  of  a dopble  immortali- 
ty ; living  for  ever  in  the  memory  of  men,  and 
being  admitted,  according  to  the  belief  of  an- 
tiquity, to  the  most  distinguished  honours  in 
the  celestial  regions.5 

It  has  been  already  observed,  that  the  tex- 
ture of  the  Grecian  tongue  was  singularly  well 
adapted  to  the  improvement  of  poetry ; and 
this  favourable  circumstance  was  admirably 
seconded  by  the  political  condition  of  the 
Greeks  in  the  early  periods  of  their  society.  Re- 
ligion then  formed  the  sole  principle  of  govern- 
ment ; and  the  belief  of  religion  was  chiefly 
supported  by  the  Theogonies,6  while  its  cere- 
monies were  principally  adorned  by  the  hymns 
of  the  bards.  These  two  kinds  of  poetry, 
doubtless  the  most  ancient  and  the  most  vene- 
rable, formed  the  main  pillars  of  the  political 
edifice ; and  the  essential  parts  of  this  edifice 
consisting  in  the  praise  of  the  gods,  its  brightest 
ornaments  were  composed  of  the  glory  of  lie- 
roes.  The  hymns  maintained  the  power  of 
religion,  the  song  animated  to  valour ; and 

1 Movet  Amphion  lapide3  canendo  Hor. 

• 2 Most  of  the  heroes  of  the  Trojan  war  were  his  disci- 
ples. Xenoph.  de  Venat.  sub  initio. 

3 Xenoph.  de  Venat.  sub  initio. 

4 Mr.  Burette  has  collected  the  most  interesting  particu- 
lars concerning  these  bards,  in  his  Commentary  on  Plut.  de 
Music. 

5 Musreum  ante  omnes.  Virg.  JE n.  vi.  It  is  not  easy 
to  discover  the  reason  why  Virgil,  in  his  Elysium,  has 
placed  Musaeus  before  all  the  rest.  This  venerable  bard, 
by  some  called  the  son,  by  others  the  disciple  of  Orpheus, 
is  universally  allowed  to  have  been  a native  of  Attica. 
The  admirer  of  Grecian  eloquence  (Orabant  caussas  me- 
lius) intended,  perhaps,  to  compliment  the  country  of  Mu- 
sajus. 

6 A Theogony  is  a poem  explaining,  not  merely,  as  the 

name  denotes,  the  generation,  but  also  the  history  of  the 

gods.  Most  of  the  ancient  poets  mentioned  in  the  text 

wrote  Theogonies.  Piod.  I.  iii.  Plut.  de  Music. 


[Chap. 

both  powerfully  affected  that  peculiar  sensibi- 
lity of  temper,  and  that  romantic  turn  of  fancy, 
the  prevailing  characteristics  of  Greece  duiing 
the  heroic  ages. 

Neither  the  Rimers  of  the  north,  nor  the 
Troubadours  of  Provence,  nor  the  Bards  of 
Germany,  nor  even  the  Druids  of  Gaul  and 
Britain,  possessed  more  distinguished  autho- 
rity than  the  Aoidoi,  or  Rhapsodists,  of  the 
Greeks.  The  first  requisite  of  their  profession 
was,  to  know  many  soothing  tales  ;7 *  and  it  was 
the  daily  object  of  their  art,  to  delight  gods 
and  men.s  The  piety  of  the  priest,  and  the 
inspiration  of  the  prophet,  were  intimately 
connected  with  the  enthusiasm  of  poetry  ; and 
poets,  who  had  celebrated  the  glory  of  the 
past,  were  naturally  employed  to  rear  the  hopes 
of  the  future  generation.9  It  is  probable, 
however,  that  the  ancient  bards  had  frequent 
avocations  from  their  literary  labours.  The  cu- 
riosity, natural  to  men  of  genius,  would  fre- 
quently tempt  them  to  visit  distant  countries. 
The  admiration  paid  to  their  abilities  could 
only  be  upheld  by  novelty.  Both  inclination 
and  interest,  therefore,  would  prompt  them  to 
sail  to  foreign  lands,  to  examine  their  civil  and 
religious  institutions,  and  to  converse  with 
their  priests  and  poets,  from  whom  they  might 
derive  such  information  as  would  enable  them, 
on  their  return  home,  to  surprise,  entertain, 
and  instruct  their  fellow-citizens. 

Of  all  nations,  the  Greeks  enjoyed  most  ad- 
vantages for  travelling ; and  of  all  Grecian 
professions,  that  of  the  bard.  The  general 
diffusion  of  their  national  language  and  colo- 
nies, as  well  as  the  sacred  character  with  which 
they  were  invested,  entitled  this  venerable  class 
of  men  to  expect  a secure  retreat  among  the 
most  inhospitable  barbarians.  Whatever  coun- 
try they  visited,  the  elegant  entertainment  de- 
rived from  their  art  procured  them  a welcome 
reception  at  religious  festivals,  and  all  public 
solemnities.  Amidst  the  most  dreadful  cala- 
mities which  afflict  mankind,  the  bards  alone 
were  exempted  from  the  common  danger. 
They  could  behold,  in  safety,  the  tumult  of  the 
battle;  they  could  witness,  undisturbed,  the 
horror  of  a city  taken  by  storm  ; calm  and 
serene  themselves,  they  might  contemplate  the 
furious  conflicts,  and  wild  agitations,  of  the  pas- 
sions. It  belonged  to  them  only,  and  to  the  sa- 
cred character  of  the  herald,  to  observe  and 
examine,  without  personal  danger,  the  natural 
expressions  of  fear,  rage,  or  despair,  in  the 
countenances  and  gestures  of  the  vanquished, 
as  well  as  the  insolent  triumph  of  success,  the 
fury  of  resentment,  the  avidity  of  gain,  and 
the  thirst  of  blood,  in  the  wild  aspect  and  mad 
demeanour  of  the  victors.  Having  considered 
at  full  leisure  the  most  striking  peculiarities  of 
those  agitated  and  distressful  scenes,  the  poet 
might  retire  to  his  cavern,  or  grotto,  and  there 
delineate,  in  secure  tranquillity,  such  a warm 
and  expressive  picture  of  the  manners  and  mis- 


7 noxx*  Homer. 

8 ©£0 in  xoii  ctv$gu>7rotari  xsiSetv.  HoMER. 

9 In  early  ages,  the  education  of  youth  was  entrusted  only 
to  the  first  ranks  in  society.  This  profession  was  practised 
in  Greece  by  Homer,  as  we  learn  from  his  life,  falsely  ascri- 
bed to  Herodotus,  yet  certainly  very  ancient.  In  Gaul  it 
belonged  to  the  Druids  Vid.  Caesar  de  Bello  Gallico,  1.  vi. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


73 


vi.] 

fortunes  of  men,  as  should  astonish  his  contem- 
poraries, and  excite  the  sympathetic  terror  and 
pity  of  the  most  distant  posterity. 

If  the  Grecian  bards  were  fortunate  in  ob- 
serving such  events  of  their  own  age  as  were 
most  susceptible  of  the  ornaments  of  poetical 
imitation,  they  were  still  more  fortunate  in 
living  at  a period  which  afforded  a wonderful 
variety  of  such  events.  Amidst  the  unsettled 
turbulence  of  rising  states,  the  foundation  and 
destruction  of  cities,  the  perpetual  wars  and 
negotiations  of  neighbouring  communities,  they 
were  daily  presented  with  subjects  worthy  the 
grandeur  of  the  heroic  muse.  The  establish- 
ment of  colonies,  the  origin  of  new  supersti- 
tions, as  well  as  the  imaginary  legends  which 
supported  the  old,  furnished  copious  materials 
for  many  a wondrous  song.  These  materials, 
being  eagerly  embraced  by  the  choice,  were 
embellished  by  the  fancy  of  the  early  bards ; 
who,  continually  rehearsing  them  to  their  con- 
temporaries, had  an  opportunity  of  remarking, 
in  their  approbation  or  dislike,  the  circum- 
stances necessary  to  be  added,  taken  away,  or 
altered,  in  order  to  give  their  productions  the 
happiest  effect,  and  the  highest  degree  of 
strength  and  beauty.  As  writing  was  little  prac- 
tised for  the  purpose  of  communicating  know- 
ledge, succeeding  poets  learned  to  repeat  the 
verses  of  their  predecessors  ; and,  having  trea- 
sured them  in  their  memory,  they  adopted  them 
as  their  own.  Frequent  repetition,  attended 
with  such  careful  observations  as  were  natural 
to  men  whose  character  depended  on  the  suc- 
cess of  their  art,  led  to  new  alterations  and 
amendments  flo  and  their  performances,  thus 
improving  by  degrees,  acquired  that  just  mea- 
sure of  perfection,  to  which  nothing  could  with 
propriety  be  added,  and  from  which  nothing 
could  with  propriety  be  taken  away.  In  this 
manner, perhaps, the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  received 
the  last  polish ; the  harmonious  animation  of 
poetry  was  admired  as  the  language  of  the 
gods ; and  poets,  originally  the  ministers  of 
heaven,  the  instructors  of  youth,  and  the  re- 
warders of  merit,  were  finally  regarded  as 
the  great  authors  of  religion,  the  principal 
benefactors  of  mankind,  and,  as  shall  be  ex- 
plained hereafter,  the  wise  legislators  of  na- 
tions. 

As  the  singular  manners  and  events  of  the 
heroic  ages  naturally  produced  the  lofty  strains 
of  the  epic  muse,  so  the  state  of  society  in 
Greece,  during  the  immediately  succeeding 
periods,  highly  favoured  the  introduction  of 
other  kinds  of  poetry.  The  abolition  of  the 
royal  governments  gave  free  scope  to  the  acti- 
vity and  turbulence  of  democracy  ; and  the 
rivalships  and  enmities  of  neighbouring  states, 
rankling  in  the  minds  of  their  citizens,  prepared 
the  imaginations  of  men  for  taking  a malignant 
pleasure  in  works  of  invective  and  reproach. 
The  innumerable  causes  of  alienation,  hatred, 
and  disgust,  which  operated  also  within  the 
bosom  of  each  little  republic,  opened  an  inex- 
haustible source  of  satire.  The  competitions 
for  civil  offices,  for  military  command,  and  for 


10  Eyivvijg-xv  ry]V  m tqrixr,v  tx  Tuuv  «uT9!r%s.i»s6<r//:*T(«i/. 

Aristot.  Poet.  c.  iv. 


other  places  of  trust,  profit,  or  honour,  all  of 
which  were  conferred  by  the  free  suffrages  of 
the  people,  occasioned  irreconcilable  variance 
between  the  ambitious  members  of  the  same 
community,  and  subjected  the  characters  of 
men  to  mutual  scrutiny  and  remark.  The  sen- 
timents of  the  Greeks,  not  being  perverted  by 
the  habits  of  slavery,  nor  restrained  by  the 
terrors  of  a despot,  they  boldly  expressed  what 
they  freely  thought ; they  might  openly  declare 
a just  contempt;  and,  while  they  extolled  in 
the  lofty  ode  and  swelling  panegyric  the  heroes 
and  patriots  whom  they  admired,  they  lashed 
the  cowards  and  traitors  whom  they  despised, 
with  all  the  severity  of  satire. 

The  ode  and  satire  may  be  successfully  cul- 
tivated by  imitators  in  the  worst  of  times  ; but 
they  could  scarcely  have  been  invented  and  per- 
fected under  any  other  than  a popular  govern- 
ment. The  plaintive  elegy,  on  the  other  hand, 
which  describes  the  torments  of  unsuccessful 
love,  or  which  paints  the  affliction  of  a misera- 
ble parent,  an  affectionate  son,  a disconsolate 
wife,  or  a faithful  friend,  for  the  loss  of  the  se- 
veral objects  most  dear  to  their  hearts,  seems 
to  be  the  spontaneous  production  of  every  soil, 
and  hardly  to  receive  any  change  of  impres- 
sion from  the  fluctuating  forms  of  society. 
The  particular  purposes,  however,  to  which 
the  Greeks  principally  applied  this  species  of 
poetry,  appear  to  have  been  suggested  by  their 
peculiar  circumstances  at  the  time  of  its  origin. 
During  the  violence  and  disorder  occasioned 
by  the  political  revolutions,  the  frequent  mi- 
grations, and  the  almost  uninterrupted  hostili- 
ties which  succeeded  and  increased  the  calami- 
ties of  the  Trojan  war,  it  was  natural  for  those 
who  reasoned  concerning  the  affairs  of  men,  to 
form,  according  to  the  original  bent  of  their 
minds,  two  opposite  theories  for  the  best  im- 
provement of  human  life.  Men  of  a firm  tex- 
ture of  soul  would  prepare  for  the  misery 
which  awaited  them,  by  strengthening  their 
natural  hardiness,  and  fortifying  their  natural 
intrepidity.  The  contempt  of  pain,  and  dan- 
ger, and  death,  would  be  the  great  principle  of 
their  lives,  and  the  perpetual  subject  of  their 
song ; and  while  they  described  the  inevitable 
disgrace  of  weakness  and  cowardice,  they 
would  extol,  with  the  most  lively  sensibility, 
the  glory  of  valour,  the  triumphs  of  success, 
and  the  joys  of  victory.  Such  themes  might 
delight  the  martial  muse  of  Tyrtoeus  and  Cal- 
linus,  but  could  offer  no  charms  to  the  effemi- 
nate softness  of  Mimnermus,  or  the  licentious 
debauchery  of  Archilochus.  To  persons  of 
their  character,  the  calamities  of  the  times,  in- 
stead of  appearing  an  argument  for  virtue, 
would  prove  an  incitement  to  pleasure.  The 
precarious  condition  of  their  lives  and  fortunes, 
while  it  depreciated  all  other  objects,  would 
increase  the  value  of  present  enjoyment.  In 
the  agreeable  amusements  of  the  fleeting  hour, 
they  would  seek  refuge  against  the  melancholy 
prospect  of  futurity.  The  pleasures  of  tho 
table,  the  delights  of  love,  the  charm  of  the 
elegant  arts  and  of  conversation,  would  be  per- 
petually studied  in  their  lives,  and  perpetually 
recommended  in  their  poetry. 

The  precious  remains  of  their  writings,  and 


K 


74 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Olymp. 
xv.  3. 
A.  C. 
718. 


still  more  the  authentic  circumstances 
related  concerning  the  characters  of 
the  ancient  poets,  sufficiently  confirm 
the  truth  of  these  observations.  Next 
to  Homer,  Archilochus  is  the  earliest 
Greek  writer,  whose  life  is  recorded  so  mi- 
nutely as  may  serve  to  throw  any  considerable 
light  on  the  history  of  his  country.  We  are 
told  by  Herodotus,1  that  he  flourished  in  the 
time  of  Gyges,  king  of  Lydia,  who  mounted 
the  throne  seven  hundred  and  eighteen  years 
before  Christ.  He  was  a native  of  the  isle  of 
Paros,  one  of  the  Cyclades,  which  had  already 
become  wealthy  and  populous.  His  father, 
Telesicles,  must  have  been  a person  of  distinc- 
tion, since  he  was  employed  to  head  a deputa- 
tion of  his  countrymen  to  the  oracle  of  Apollo. 
The  object  of  the  Parians  was  to  obtain  a fa- 
vourable answer  from  the  god  concerning  an 
enterprise,  which  they  had  long  meditated,  of 
settling  a colony  in  the  valuable  island  of 
Thasos,  opposite  to  the  coast  of  Thrace.  The 
oracle  approved  the  design,  and  in  order  to 
reward  the  respectful  behaviour,  and  to  re- 
pay the  rich  presents  delivered  to  the  holy 
shrine  by  Telesicles,  who  had  unfortunately 
disgraced  the  dignity  of  his  rank  by  an  un- 
equal marriage  with  a beautiful  slave  named 
Enipo,  declared  that  the  fame  of  Archilochus, 
the  glorious  fruit  of  this  dishonourable  connec- 
tion, should  descend  to  the  latest  ages  of  the 
world. 

The  prophecy  would  naturally  contribute  to 
its  own  accomplishment ; espc-cially  as  Archi- 
lochus descended  from  a family,  in  which  the 
4ove  of  poetry  was  a hereditary  passion.  Tellis, 
his  grandfather,  accompanied  the  priestess  of 
Ceres,  in  order  to  establish  the  Eleusinian  mys- 
teries in  the  isle  of  Thasos,  an  employment, 
which,  like  the  sacred  commission  of  T elesicles 
at  the  city  of  Apollo,  could  not  have  been  ex- 
ercised by  any  other  than  a favourite  of  the 
Muses.  Enjoying  the  example  of  such  ances- 
tors, and  encouraged  by  the  admonition  of  the 
god,  it  was  to  be  expected  that  the  young  poet 
should  second  the  gifts  of  nature  by  the  efforts 
of  industry ; and  that  his  juvenile  productions 
should  soon  have  been  distinguished  above 
those  of  his  contemporaries,  by  dignity  of  sen- 
timent, force  of  expression,  and  beauty  of 
imagery. 

In  that  martial  age,  no  superiority  of  genius, 
rank,  or  fortune  could  exempt  its  possessor 
from  the  duty  of  serving  his  country  in  the 
exercise  of  arms.2  The  Parian  colony  in  Tha- 
sos, having  ineffectually  endeavoured  by  its  own 
strength  to  establish  a settlement  in  Thrace, 
was  obliged,  in  order  to  accomplish  this  design, 
to  have  recourse  to  the  assistance  of  the  parent 
isle.  Archilochus  served  in  this  expedition, 
which,  though  finally  successful,  was  chequered 
with  a great  variety  of  fortune.  During  an 
engagement  with  the  barbarous  Thracians,  in 
which  his  countrymen  were  defeated  and  put 
to  flight,  he  saved  his  life  by  throwing  away 


1 Lib.  i.  cap.  12. 

2 This  was  not  the  case  in  the  heroic  ages ; the  bards, 
though  called  ’Hows?,  as  being  of  the  first  rank  in  society, 
were  exempted  from  the  fatigues  of  war.  Horn.  Odyss. 
passim. 


[Chap. 

his  shield ; an  action  so  extremely  inconsistent 
with  the  military  prejudices  of  the  age,  that  all 
his  eloquence  and  ingenuity  were  incapable  of 
extenuating  its  infamy. 

On  his  return  home,  he  renewed  his  ad- 
dresses to  a Parian  damsel  named  Neobule. 
Her  father  Lycambes,  who  had  at  first  granted, 
afterwards  refused  his  consent,  whether  dis- 
gusted by  the  unwarlike  and  therefore  con- 
temptible character  of  Archilochus,  or  tempted 
by  the  alluring  offers  of  a richer  rival.  If  we 
believe  the  poet,  it  was  avarice  alone  that  cor- 
rupted the  sordid  mind  of  Lycambes ; and  both 
he  and  his  daughter,  regardless  of  their  plighted 
faith  and  repeated  oaths,  sacrificed  their  senti- 
ments and  character  to  the  mean  gratification 
of  this  ignoble  passion. 

This  assertion  he  maintained  by  his  poetical 
invectives,  full  of  indignation  and  resentment 
against  the  whole  family  of  the  supposed  trai- 
tors. His  verses  were  rehearsed  at  the  public 
games,  where  the  force  and  vivacity  of  the 
satire  were  universally  admired.  Calumny, 
however,  seems  to  have  joined  her  poisoned 
darts  to  the  more  fair  and  equitable  weapons 
employed  by  the  anger  of  disappointed  love. 
Neobule  and  her  sisters  were  accused  of  every 
vice  most  inconsistent  with  the  modest  dignity 
of  the  female  character.  Yet  such  an  accusa- 
tion is  extremely  improbable,  considering  the 
reserved  circumspection  of  Neobule  herself, 
during  the  ardent  solicitations  of  Archilochus 
a behaviour  which  naturally  increased  the  fire 
of  his  passion,  and  sharpened  the  edge  of  his 
satire. 

His  reproach  and  calumny,  however  ill- 
grounded  and  unreasonable,  gained  an  easy 
credit  among  the  rivals  and  enemies  of  Ly- 
cambes ; and  the  bitter  taunts  and  invectives, 
which  the  malice  of  the  poet  had  invented,  the 
scornful  contempt  of  the  Parians  too  faithfully 
retained.  An  old  poem  was  no  sooner  in  dan- 
ger of  being  forgotten,  than  it  was  succeeded 
by  new  verses,  couched  in  the  liveliest  turns 
of  ingenious  satire.  The  perpetual  strokes  of 
malevolence,  darted  against  the  family  of  Ly- 
cambes by  the  persevering  cruelty  of  the  poet, 
rendered  their  characters  suspicious  to  the  pub- 
lic, and  their  lives  painful  to  themselves.  They 
determined  to  withdraw  from  a scene  which 
seemed  a constant  variation  of  misery,  and 
died  in  despair  by  their  own  hands. 

The  poems  which  produced  this  melancholy 
effect,  and  of  which  some  scattered  remains 
have  reached  the  present  times,  were  written 
in  iambic3  verse  of  six  and  four  feet.  When 
the  lines  were  of  the  same  length  throughout, 
the  piece  was  entitled  an  iambic ; but  when 
short  and  long  verses  alternately  succeeded 
each  other,  it  was  called,  from  this  circum- 
stance, an  epode,4  a name  which  Horace  has 


3 The  term  iambic  is  synonymous  in  Greek  with  the 
words  reproachful,  satirical.  Arist.  Poet. 

4 This  word,  concerning  the  meaning  of  which  there 
have  been  innumerable  disputes,  simply  denotes  the  succes- 
sion of  verses  or  stanzas  of  different  length  or  structure,  .n 
the  first  sense  it  is  explained  in  the  text;  in  the  second  it 
will  be  explained  in  speaking  of  the  ode,  of  which  the  epode 
regularly  formed  the  third  stanza,  as  we  learn  from  Hephes- 
tion,  Terentianus  Maurus,  Marius  Victorinus,  and  other 
ancient  grammarians  and  philologists. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


VI.] 


given  to  those  performances  in  which  he  imi- 
tated the  poetry  and  spirit  of  Archilochus,  not 
copying,  with  servility,  his  sentiments  and  ex- 
pression.5 

Though  iambic  was  the  favourite6  pursuit 
of  Archilochus,  his  genius  was  not  entirely 
confined  to  that  species  of  writing.  Endowed 
with  an  extreme  sensibility  of  heart,  he  was 
inclined  to  gratitude  and  friendship,  as  well  as 
to  enmity  and  resentment.  Animated  by  the 
former  sentiments,  he  lamented  the  death  of  a 
kinsman  and  friend,  who  had  unfortunately 
perished  by  shipwreck.  The  piece  consisted 
of  alternate  hexameter  and  pentameter  verses, 
and  abounded  in  elegiac  strains,  which  were 
admired  by  the  greatest  critics  of  antiquity. 
The  sublime  Lqpginus,  in  particular,  extols  the 
affecting  description  of  the  shipwreck;  and 
Pluta'ch7  has  preserved  the  conclusion  of  the 
piece,  in  which  the  poet  having  asserted  the 
hurtfulness  of  sorrow  to  the  living,  and  its 
inutility  to  the  dead,  determines  thenceforth  to 
abstain  from  unavailing  lamentations,  and  to 
seek  relief  for  his  affliction  in  wine,  love,  and 
other  sensual  pleasures. 

These  sentiments  of  Archilochus  seem  to 
prove,  that  whatever  may  have  been  the 
poetical  merit  of  his  elegy,  the  tender  passions 
were  less  fitted  than  the  irascible,  to  make  a 
durable  impression  on  his  heart.  He  soon  for- 
sook the  elegiac  muse  ; and  his  natual  disposi- 
tion, as  well  as  the  fame  which  he  had  already 
acquired  by  his  satires,  led  him  to  pursue  that 
species  of  writing  with  unabating  ardour.  The 
perpetual  rivalships  and  competitions  among 
the  principal  Parian  citizens,  who  aspire.d  at 
the  first  offices  of  government,  frequently  de- 
generating into  hatred,  malice,  and  revenge, 
they  observed,  with  infinite  delight,  the  asper- 
sions, however  foul  and  false,  that  were  cast  on 
their  opponents.  The  malignity  of  the  public 
thus  nourished  and  exasperated  the  venom  of 
the  poet ; but  there  was  a degree  of  virulence 
beyond  which  it  could  not  proceed.  After 
making  the  circle  of  the  whole  society,  and 
equally  offending  friends  and  foes  by  his  ex- 
cessive and  indiscriminate  reproach,  Archilo- 
chus came  to  be  regarded  as  a public  enemy. 
The  licentious  impunity  of  his  manners,  which 
bid  defiance  to  every  law  of  decency  and  of 
nature,  heightened  the  detestation  of  his  cha- 
racter, and  he  was  compelled  to  fly  in  disgrace 
from  his  native  island,  to  which  his  genius 
would  have  beep  an  ornament,  had  his  be- 
haviour been  more  modest  and  inoffensive.6 

Banished  from  the  isle  of  Paros,  the  poet 
sought  protection  in  the  Thasian  colony,  to 
the  establishment  of  which  the  services  of  his 
father  had  so  eminently  contributed ; but,  un- 
fortunately for  his  repose,  the  fame  of  his 
satires  had  gone  before  him,  and  the  disgrace 
of  having  lost  his  shield  in  the  Thracian  expe- 
dition was  a stain  not  easily  wiped  off.  His 
reception  among  the  Thasians,  therefore,  an- 


swered neither  his  own  expectations,  nor  the 
liberal  spirit  of  ancient  hospitality.  He  soon 
quitted  a place  in  which  his  company  was  so 
little  acceptable,  yet  not  before  he  had  lam- 
pooned the  principal  citizens  of  Thasos,  and 
endeavoured,  by  a singular  and  absurd  excess 
of  resentment,  to  satirise  the  narrowness  and 
sterility  of  the  island  itself. 

The  wandering  poet  was  not  more  fortunate 
in  several  other  districts  of  Greece  in  which 
he  took  refuge.  The  warlike  Spartans  would 
scarcely  admit  into  their  city,  a writer  who  had 
said  that  it  was  better  for  a soldier  to  lose  his 
shield  than  his  life,  because  he  might  purchase 
new  armour,  but  could  not  acquire  a new 
existence.  Archilochus,  thus  abandoned,  per- 
secuted, and  contemned,  made  one  spirited 
effort  for  recovering  his  ancient  character,  and 
regaining  the  public  esteem.  The  time  ap- 
proached for  celebrating  the  Olympic  festival. 
The  irregularity  of  his  manners,  the  general 
detestation  of  his  behaviour,  and,  above  all,  his 
vindication  of  cowardice,  would,  according  to 
general  rules,  have  excluded  him  from  assisting 
at  that  solemnity : but  having  removed  the  pre- 
judices which  the  citizens  of  Elis  had  naturally 
conceived  against  him,  by  displaying  his  won- 
derful talents  for  music  and  poetry,  he  took 
care  to  insinuate  that  he  was  possessed  of  an 
ode  in  praise  of  Hercules,  which,  if  rehearsed 
before  the  public  assembly,  would  equally  en- 
tertain the  fancy,  and  improve  the  piety  of  the 
spectators.  The  interest  of  religion  being  ma- 
terially concerned  in  this  proposal,  the  judges 
of  the  games  thought  proper  to  comply  with  it. 
Archilochus  appeared  on  the  appointed  day 
among  the  Olympic  bards.  After  his  competi- 
tors had  given  specimens  of  their  art  in  such 
musical  compositions  as  the  audience  were  ac- 
customed to  hear,  he  began  the  song  in  honour 
of  Hercules,  accompanied  with  the  sound  of 
his  lyre,  and  written  with  such  new  variations 
of  verse,  as  necessarily  occasioned  new  modu- 
lations of  melody.  It  is  probable  that,  on 
this  occasion,  he  first  practised  the  invention 
ascribed  to  him  by  Plutarch,9  of  passing,  with 
a rapidity,  from  one  rhythm,  or  measure,  to 
another  of  a different  kind.  The  novelty,  the 
beauty,  and  the  grandeur  of  his  composition 
ravished  the  senses,  and  elevated  the  souls  of 
his  hearers.  The  demerit  of  the  performer  was 
obliterated  in  the  perfection  of  his  song.  The 
unanimous  applause  of  the  assembly  declared 
his  superiority  to  every  rival,  and  he  was  im- 
mediately rewarded  by  the  prize,  and  adorned 
with  the  crown,  of  victory.10 

Having  acquired  such  distinguished  renown 
in  the  public  theatre  of  assembled  states,  Archi- 
lochus returned,  with  exultation,  to  his  native 
country,  the  glory  of  which  had  been  pro- 
claimed at  Olympia,  in  consequence  of  the 
successful  merit  of  a banished  citizen.  This 
proclamation  being  deemed  the  highest  honour 
which  an  individual  could  procure  for  his  com- 


5 Parios  ego  primus  iambos 

Osfendi  Latin,  numeros  animosque  secutus 
Archilochi,  non  res,  et  agentia  verba  T.vcnmben. 

Epist.  lib.  i.  19. 

Archilochum  proprio  rabies  armavit  iambo. 

Da  audiend.  Poet. 

Oritias  apud  TElian.  Hist.  1.  ix.  c.  xiii. 


9 De  Music. 

10  We  learn  from  Pindar  and  his  scholiast,  Ode  Olymp. 
ix.  that  this  celebrated  poem  of  Archilochus  long  continued 
to  be  sung  at  the  Olympic  games,  in  order  to  grace  tho 
coronation  of  those  victors  who  either  could  not  afford,  or 
who  did  not  incli/ie,  to  purchase  an  ode  in  their  particular 
honour. 


76 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


munity,  the  hatred  and  resentment  formerly 
entertained  against  the  poet  was  converted  into 
gratitude  and  admiration.  The  renewed  re- 
spect of  his  country  occasioned  many  ebulli- 
tions of  poetical  vanity,  which  evaporated  in 
some  verses  that  have  reached  the  present 
times.1  When  death  put  an  end  to  his  labours, 
it  could  not  extinguish  his  fame.  His  obse- 
quies were  distinguished  by  every  sad  circum- 
stance of  funeral  pomp  ; and  his  memory  was 
celebrated  by  a festival,  established  by  the 
gratitude  of  his  countrymen,  and  adopted  by 
the  general  admiration  of  the  Greeks,  during 
which  the  verses  of  Archilochus  were  sung 
alternately  with  the  poems  of  Homer:2  and 
thus,  by  a fatality  frequently  attending  men  of 
genius,  he  spent  a life  of  misery,  and  acquired 
honour  after  death.  Reproach,  ignominy,  con- 
tempt, poverty,  and  persecution  were  the  ordi- 
nary companions  of  his  person ; admiration, 
glory,  respect,  splendour,  and  magnificence, 
were  the  melancholy  attendants  of  his  shade. 

Archilochus  was  the  principal  improver,  not 
only  of  the  iambic,  but  of  the  graver  kind  of 
lyric  poetry ; and  Terpander,  who  flourished 
in  the  same  age,  was,  as  far  as  we  can  trace 
the  history  of  the  arts,  the  chief  promoter  of 
the  gay  and  festive  kinds  of  lyric  composition. 
This  agreeable  poet  was  a native  of  Lesbos. 
He  obtained  the  musical  prize  in  the  Carnean 
festival  at  Sparta ; and  in  the  beginning  of  the 
seventh  century  before  Christ,  gained  four  suc- 
cessive prizes  at  Delphi,  as  appeared  by  a cor- 
rect register  of  the  conquerors  in  the  Pythian 
games,  preserved  in  the  time  of  Plutarch.3 
These  advantages  procured  him  the  respect  of 
his  contemporaries ; but  he  was  honoured  by 
posterity  chiefly  for  his  improvement  of  the  lyre, 
and  for  the  new  varieties  of  measure  which  he 
introduced  into  the  Grecian  poetry.4 

The  example  of  Archilochus  and  Terpander5 
was  followed  by  the  nine  Lyric  poets,  who,  in 
the  course  of  two  centuries,  flourished  almost 
in  regular  succession,  and  maintained  the  poetic 
fame  of  their  country.  Of  the  two  most  an- 
cient, Aleman  and  Stesichorus,  we  have  only  a 
few  imperfect  remains:  of  Sappho  there  are 
two  complete  odes ; her  followers  Alcaeus, 
Simonides,  Ibycus,  and  Bacchilides  are  known 
by  a few  mutilated  fragments,  and  by  the  re- 
marks of  ancient  critics;  but  -we  still  possess 
many  inimitable  odes  of  Pindar,  and  many 
pleasant  songs  of  Anacreon. 

As  to  the  Grecian  lyrists  in  general,  it  is 
worthy  of  observation,  that  except  Aleman  of 
Sardis,  who  on  account  of  his  merit  was  natu- 
ralised at  Sparta,  Pindar  of  Thebes  in  Boeotia, 
and  Stesichorus  of  Aimera  in  Sicily,  all  the  rest 
were  bom  on  the  Asiatic  coast,  or  in  the  islands 
of  the  iEgean  sea.  These  enchanting  climates 
were  the  best  adapted  to  inspire  the  raptures 


1 Athenaeus,  1.  xiv.  Pausaniqs,  1.  x.  Ptobacus,  serm.  123. 

2 Anthol.  p.  212.  Aristot.  Rhetor.  I.  ii. 

3 De  Music. 

4 Euclid.  Harmon.  Strabo,  1.  xiii. 

5 njvJsegOf  C> i<r»v  oti  ruiv  <rxoXia>v  ftt\wv  Tsgrrxv Jpo; 
iujsth i ta-Ti.  Plut.  de  Music.  “ Pindar  says,  that  Terpan- 
der invented  the  Scholia,”  which,  according  to  Pollux  and 
Hesychius,  properly  denote  the  drinking  songs  of  the  Greeks; 
but,  in  a more  general  sense,  signify  every  kind  of  lyric 
poetry  not  aspiring  to  the  dignity  of  the  ode. 


[Chap. 

peculiar  to  the  ode,  as  well  as  to  excite  that  vo- 
luptuous gayety  characteristic  of  the  Grecian 
song.6  Amidst  the  romantic  scenes  of  Ionia, 
was  felt  with  uncommon  sensibility  the  force 
of  that  pleasing  painful  passion,  which,  uniting 
grief,  joy,  and  enthusiasm,  contains  the  fruitful 
seeds  of  whatever  is  most  perfect  in  music  and 
poetry.7  Here  the  celebrated  Sappho  breathed 
the  amorous  flames  by  which  she  was  con- 
sumed ; while  her  countryman  and  lover  A1 
casus  declared  the  warmth  of  his  attachment, 
excited  less  perhaps  by  the  beauty  of  her  person, 
than  by  the  bewitching  charms  of  her  voice. 
But  neither  Alcaeus,  who  flourished  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  sixth,  nor  Anacreon,  who  flour- 
ished in  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century 
before  Christ,  allowed  the  natural  vivacity  of 
their  tempers  to  be  overcome  by  the  severities 
of  a passion  which  they  considered  chiefly  as 
an  instrument  of  pleasure.  When  unfortunate 
in  love,  they  had  recourse  to  wine ; and  their 
lively  invitations  to  this  enjoyment  com- 
posed the  favourite  airs  of  antiquity.®  Of 
Alcaeus  it  is  usual  to  judge  by  the  scattered  re- 
mains of  his  works  preserved  in  Plutarch9  and 
Athenaeus,10  and  by  the  high  commendations 
bestowed  on  him  by  Horace  and  Quintilian. 
The  Latin  poet,  however,  seems  on  many  oc- 
casions to  have  so  exactly  imitated,  or  rather 
translated  the  Greek,  that  the  copy  will  per- 
haps best  enable  us  to  form  a complete  idea  of 
the  original.11 

Alcaeus,  though  he  chiefly  indulged  in  the 
gay  and  sportive  strains  of  poetry,  was  yet 
qualified  to  undertake  more  lofty12  themes ; 
but  the  whole  soul  of  Anacreon  was  of  that  ef- 
feminate texture  which  fitted  him  only  to  sing 
of  love  and  pleasure.13  Venus,  Bacchus,  Cupid, 
and  the  Graces  were  the  peculiar  divinities 
whom  he  adored ; and  the  presents  which  he 
offered  at  their  shrine  were  the  most  acceptable 
that  any  mortal  could  bestow.  He  not  only 
observed  the  external  rites  and  ceremonies 
which  they  commanded,  but  proved  that  his 
heart  and  mind  had  imbibed  the  genuine  spirit 
of  their  worship.  Throughout  the  whole  of 
his  works  now  remaining,14  there  reign  the 
most  inimitable  simplicity,  purity,  and  sweet- 
ness of  diction  : his  verses  flow  with  a smooth 
volubility ; his  images,  sentiments,  and  reason- 


6 Hippocrat.  de  locis,  vol.  ii.  p.  346.  Edit.  Lugd.  Bal. 

7 Agreeably  to  the  principles  established  by  Theophras 
tns  in  Plutarch’s  Symposium. 

8 Give  us  a song  of  Alcaeus  or  Anacreon,  was  a common 
saying  in  the  age  of  Socrates.  Athenaeus,  1.  x.  c.  viii. 

9 Sympos.  c.  vi.  JO  Lib.  x. 

11  M>J  $ZV  »K\0  ^UTfVO^S  JTfOTBfOV  XlvZgCV  Cf.,U7TC\0V 

Alc. 

Nullam,  Vare,  sacra  vite,  prius  severis  arborem. 

Other  translations,  equally  literal,  may  be  discovered  by 
carefully  examining  the  fragments  in  Athenauts  1.  x. 

12  In  lilsus  et  amores  descendit,  majoribus  tamen  aptior 
O.CIN.  1.  x.c.  i. 

13  A SapSiro?  $e  x»e 

EgtoTce  fxcvvov  tizet AnaC.  Od.  i. 

14  The  works  of  Anacreon  are  said,  by  Petrus  Alcyonius 
de  exilio,  to  have  been  burned  by  the  Greek  priests  of  Con- 
stantinople, from  which  some  learned  men,  destitute  of 
taste,  have  absurdly  concluded,  that  the  works  ascribed  to 
the  old  poet  are  spurious.  It  cannot,  surely,  be  said  of  those 
poems,  “ Etsi  excitant  animos  nostrorum  hominum  ad  fla- 
grantiorem  religionis  cultum,  non  tamen  verborum  Attico- 
rum  proprietatem  et  linguae  Grajcae  elegantiam  docent;” 
which  is  the  character  that  Petrus  Alcyonius  gives  of  the 
compositions  substituted  by  the  priests  in  their  place. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


7 


VI.] 

ings  (if  what  in  him  seems  intuitive  conviction 
can  be  called  reasonings)  are  copied  from  the 
warmest  impressions  of  nature.  Yet  in  these 
poems,  otherwise  so  beautiful  and  so  perfect, 
there  may  be  discovered  an  extreme  licentious- 
ness of  manners,  and  a singular  voluptuous- 
ness of  fancy,  extending  beyond  the  senses, 
and  tainting  the  soul  itself. 

The  dissolute  gayety  of  Anacreon,  the  deli- 
cate sensibility,  of  Sappho,  and  the  tearful  com- 
plaints of  Simonides,15  were  all  expressed  in 
that  easy  equable  flow  of  uninterrupted  har- 
mony, which,  in  the  opinion  of  the  most  learn- 
ed of  their  countrymen,16  possesses  more  grace 
than  strength,  and  more  beauty  than  grandeur. 
The  majestic  muse  of  Stesichorus  soared  to  a 
loftier  pitch.  Disdaining  the  subjects  to  which 
the  other  lyrists  descended,  he  sung  of  war  and 
heroes,  and  supported,  by  his  harp,  the  whole 
weight  and  dignity  of  epic  poetry.17  Such,  at 
least,  are  the  sentiments  of  a celebrated  critic, 
who  had  read  his  works,  of  which  we  are  at 
present  entitled  to  judge  only  by  their  resem- 
blance to  those  of  Pindar,  who  possessed  a 
similar  turn  of  genius,  and  treated  the  same 
lofty  themes. 

The  honours  bestowed  on  Pindar  by  his  con- 
temporaries, as  well  as  the  admiration  in  which 
his  name  was  uniformly  held  by  the  most  im- 
proved nations  of  antiquity,  render  both  his 
person  and  his  works  objects  of  a very  natural 
curiosity.  He  was  born  five  hundred  and 
twenty  years  before  Christ,  and  his  long  life 
almost  completed  the  full  revolution  of  a cen- 
tury. His  age,  therefore,  extended  beyond  the 
period  of  history  now  under  our  review ; yet 
the  works  of  his  predecessors  having  perished 
by  the  ravages  of  time  and  barbarism,  it  is 
necessary  to  examine,  in  this  place,  the  nature 
and  character  of  the  writings  of  Pindar,  as  the 
only  materials  remaining  that  can  enable  us  to 
form  a general  notion  of  the  performances  re- 
cited by  the  lyric  poets  at  the  principal  Gre- 
cian solemnities.  Pindar,  from  his  earliest 
years,  was  carefully  trained  by  his  father  (him- 
self a musician)  to  the  studies  of  music  and 
poetry.  His  genius,  naturally  wild  and  luxu- 
riant, was  corrected  by  the  lessons  of  his  fair 
countrywomen,  Myrtis  and  Corinna,18  whose 
poetical  productions  had  acquired  unrivalled 
fame,  not  only  in  Thebes,  but  among  all  the 
neighbouring  cities. 10  His  first  efforts  for 
equalling  their  renown  were  displayed  at  the 
musical  contests  celebrated  in  his  native  coun- 
try ; where,  after  conquering  Myrtis,  he  was 
five  times  overcome  by  Corinna,  who,  could  we 
believe  the  voice  of  scandal,  owed  her  repeated 
victories  more  to  the  charms  of  her  beauty  than 
to  the  superiority  of  her  genius.20  But  in  the 
four  public  assemblies  of  Greece,  where  females 
were  not  admitted  to  contend,  Pindar  carried 
off  the  prize  from  every  competitor.  The  glory, 
in  particular,  which  his  poetry  both  acquired 
and  bestowed  at  Olympia,  made  the  greatest 


15  Mrestiu9  lachrymis  Simonidcis.  Catull. 

16  Dionysius  Halicarn. 

17  Epici  carminis  onera  lyr&  sustinentem.  Quint. 

18  Pausanias,  1.  ix.  c.  xxii. 

19  Lucian.  iElian.  Var.  Hist. 

SO  Pausanias,  I.  ix.  c.  xxii. 


generals  and  statesmen  of  the  age  court  the 
friendship  of  his  muse.  To  the  temples  of  the 
gods,  and  especially  to  the  celebrated  temple 
of  Delphi,  his  hymns  and  pseans  drew  an  extra- 
ordinary concourse  of  Greeks  and  strangers. 
The  priests,  prophets,  and  other  ministers  of 
Apollo,  sensible  of  the  benefits  which  they  de- 
rived from  his  musical  fame,  repaid  the  merit 
of  his  services  by  erecting  his  statue  in  the 
most  conspicuous  part  of  the  temple,  and  de- 
clared by  their  organ  the  Pythia,  that  Pindar 
should  be  honoured  with  one  half  of  the  first- 
fruit  offerings  annually  presented  by  the  devout 
retainers  of  the  Delphian  shrine.21  Pindar  was 
thus,  during  his  lifetime,  associated  to  the 
honours  of  the  gods ; and  after  his  death,  his 
memory  was  adorned  by  every  mark  of  respect 
that  public  admiration  can  bestow.  The  beauty 
of  the  monument,  erected  to  him  by  his  fellow- 
citizens  in  the  Hippodrome  of  Thebes,  was  ad- 
mired after  the  revolution  of  six  centuries.22 
At  the  Theoxenian  festival,  a portion  of  the 
sacred  victim  was  appropriated,  even  as  late  as 
the  time  of  Plutarch,  to  the  descendants  of  the 
poet.  The  inveterate  hostility  of  the  Spartans, 
when  they  destroyed  the  capital  of  their  ancient 
and  cruellest  enemies,  spared  the  house  of  Pin- 
dar, which  was  equally  respected  in  a future 
age  by  the  warlike  and  impetuous  son  of  Phi- 
lip,  and  the  giddy  triumph  of »his  Macedonian 
captains.23  # 

Pindar,  we  are  told,  acquired  unrivalled  fame 
by  his  hymns  to  Jupiter,  his  paeans  to  Apollo, 
and  his  dithyrambics  to  Bacchus.  But  as  all 
these  works  have  perished,  as  well  as  his 
love  verses,  his  elegies,  and  his  Parthenia,24  we 
are  unfortunately  obliged  to  confine  our  obser- 
vations to  the  odes,  which  were  rehearsed  at 
the  sacred  games,  in  praise  of  the  conquerors  in 
the  gymnastic  and  equestrian  contests.  These 
conquerors  being  persons  of  the  first  distinction 
in  Greece,  the  poet  takes  occasion  to  celebrate 
the  splendour  of  their  past  lives,  the  dignity  of 
their  character,  the  fame  of  their  ancestors, 
and  the  glory  of  their  several  republics.  The 
tutelary  deities,  to  whom  they  owed  their  feli- 
city, are  not  forgotten  ; and  hence,  by  an  easy 
transition,  the  poet  passes  to  the  worship  of  the 
god  in  whose  honour  the  games  were  establish- 
ed ; to  the  adoration  of  the  heroes  who  had 
appointed  them ; and  to  innumerable  other  epi- 
sodes, which  are  often  more  interesting  and 
more  beautiful  than  the  original  subject. 

Such,  most  commonly,  are  the  materials  of 
the  ode  ; and  its  form  usually  consisted  of  three 
stanzas,  of  which  the  two  first  were  of  an  equal 
length,  and  either  of  them  longer  than  the 
third.  This  arrangement  was  introduced  as 
most  suitable  to  the  occasion  of  the  poem,  as 
well  as  to  the  scene  on  which  it  was  rehearsed. 
The  occasion  was  the  solemn  sacrifice,  ac- 
companied by  a public  entertainment,  given  to 
the  spectators  by  the  friends  of  the  successful 
candidate  for  Olympic  fame.  Grateful  ac- 
knowledgments to  the  gods  formed  a principal 
part  of  the  ceremony,  which  could  not,  without 
impiety,  be  omitted  by  the  victor,  who  had 


21  Pausan.  Phocic. 

22  Pausan.  Bcootic.  23  Polyb.  Histor. 

24  Pung,  as  tlie  word  denotes,  by  a chorus  of  virgins 


78 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


obtained  so  honourable  a prize  through  the  as- 
sistance of  his  protecting  divinity.  On  the  altar 
of  this  divinity  the  sacrifice  was  performed ; 
and  in  his  temple  was  sung  the  panegyrical 
poem,  containing  the  united  praises  of  the 
beneficent  god,  and  of  his  favoured  votary. 
The  chorus  waited,  as  usual,  to  begin  the  song, 
till  preparations  were  made  for  the  feast.  They 
repeated  the  first  stanza,  properly  called  stro- 
phe, while  they  gracefully  danced,  towards  the 
right, round  the  well-replenished  altar;  return- 
ing, in  an  opposite  direction,  to  the  place  from 
which  they  set  out,  they  recited  the  second 
stanza,  therefore  called  antistrophe ; then  stand- 
ing motionless  before  the  altar,  and,  as  it  were, 
in  the  immediate  presence  of  the  divinity,  with 
whose  statue  it  was  adorned,  they  sung  the 
concluding  stanza,  with  a richer  exuberance, 
and  more  complicated  variations,  of  melody.1 
The  ode,  therefore,  was  distinguished  from 
other  pieces  of  poetry,  not  by  being  set  to  mu- 
sic,2 (for  this  was  common  to  them  all,)  but  by 
being  sung  by  a chorus,  who  accompanied  the 
various  inflections  of  the  voice  with  suitable 
attitudes  and  movements  of  the  body. 

The  lyric  poetry  of  the  Greeks  thus  united 
the  pleasures  of  the  ear,  of  the  eye,  and  of  the 
understanding.  In  the  various  nature  of  the 
entertainment  consistedits  essential  merit  and 
perfection ; and  he  only  could  be  entitled  the 
prince  of  lyric  poets,  whose  verses  happily  con- 
spired with  the  general  tendency  of  this  com- 
plicated exhibition.  By  the  universal  consent 
of  antiquity,  this  poet  is  Pindar,  whom,  ever 
since  the  eulogium  of  Horace,  critics  have  ex- 
tolled for  the  brilliancy  of  his  imagination,  the 
figurative  boldness  of  his  diction,  and  the  fire, 
animation,  and  enthusiasm  of  his  genius.  The 
panegyrics  bestowed  on  him,  have  generally 
more  of  the  wildness  of  the  ode,  than  of  the 
coolness  of  criticism  ; so  that  the  peculiar  na- 
ture of  his  excellences  may  still  deserve  to  be 
explained.  It  will  be  allowed  by  every  one 
who  reads  his  works  with  attention,  that,  great 
as  his  ideas  are,  Pindar  is  less  distinguished  by 
the  sublimity  of  his  thoughts  and  sentiments, 
than  by  the  grandeur  of  his  language  and  ex- 
pression ; and  that  his  inimitable 3 excellence 
consists  in  the  energy,  propriety,  and  magnifi- 
cence of  his  style,  so  singularly  fitted  to  asso- 
ciate with  the  lengthened  tones  of  music,  and 
the  figured  movements  of  the  dance.  The  uni- 
form cadence,  the  smooth  volubility,  and  the 
light  unimportance  of  ordinary  composition, 
are  extremely  ill  adapted  to  this  association, 
which,  bringing  every  single  word  into  notice, 
and  subjecting  it  to  observation  and  remark, 
must  expose  its  natural  meanness,  insignifi- 
cance, and  poverty.  But  as  much  as  the  lan- 
guage of  ordinary  writers  would  lose,  that'  of 
Pindar  would  gain,  by  such  an  examination. 
His  words  and  phrases  are  chosen  with  an 
habitual  care,  and  possess  a certain  weight  and 
dignity,  which,  the  more  they  are  contemplated, 


1 Marius  Yictorinus  de  Gram,  and  the  Scholia  on  He- 
phmstion. 

2 This  error  runs  through  the  whole  of  the  otherwise  very 
sensible  discourse  of  Mr.  Charbanon  on  lyric  poetry,  in  the 
Memoirs  de  I’Academie. 

3 Pindarum  quisquis  studet  emvlari , &c 


[Chap. 

| must  be  the  more  admired.  It  is  this  magnifi- 
cence of  diction,  those  compound  epithets,  and 
those  glowing  expressions  (which  the  coldness 
of  criticism  has  sometimes  condemned  as  extra- 
vagant) that  form  the  transcendent  merit  of 
the  Pindaric  style,  and  distinguish  it  even 
more  than  the  general  flow  of  the  versification, 
which  is  commonly  so  natural,  free,  and  unre- 
strained, that  it  bears  less  resemblance  to  poe- 
try, than  to  a beautiful  and  harmonious  prose. 
It  is  not  meant,  however,  that  this  great  poet 
paid  more  attention  to  the  choice,  than  to  the 
arrangement,  of  words.  The  majesty  of  the 
composition  equalled,  and,  in  the  opinion  of  a 
great  critic,  even  surpassed  the  value  of  the 
materials.  Dionysius,  the  critic  to  whom  I 
allude,  has  explained  by  what  admirable  refine- 
ments of  art,  Pindar  gave  to  his  words  a certain 
firmness  and  solidity  of  consistence,  separated 
them  at  wide  intervals,  placed  them  on  a broad 
base,  and  raised  them  to  a lofty  eminence,  from 
which  they  darted  those  irradiations  of  splen- 
dour, that  astonished  the  most  distant  be- 
holders. 

But  the  most  exalted  fame  cannot  extend 
with  equal  facility  to  distance  of  time  and  dis- 
tance of  place.  The  poems  of  Pindar  are  now 
deprived  of  their  accompaniments  of  music  and 
dancing,  by  which  they  were  formerly  ennobled 
and  adorned.  They  are  now  read  in  the  re- 
tirement of  the  closet,  without  personal  interest 
and  without  patriotic  emotion.  They  were  an- 
ciently sung  to-  large  assemblies  of  men,  who 
believed  the  religion  which  they  described, 
knew  the  characters  whom  they  celebrated,  and 
felt  the  influence  of  that  piety  and  patriotism 
which  they  were  admirably  calculated  to  up- 
hold. Such  passages  as  may  appear  most 
exceptionable  in  the  cool  moments  of  solitary 
study,  would  obtain  the  highest  applause  amidst 
the  joyous  animation  of  social  triumph,  when 
men  are  naturally  disposed  to  admire  every 
happy  boldness  of  expression,  and  to  behold, 
with  unusual  rapture,  those  lofty  and  danger- 
ous flights  which  elevate  the  daring  muse  of 
Pindar. 

In  examining  the  effect  of  the  games,  as  in- 
stitutions for  bodily  exercise  and  mental  im- 
provement, it  is  necessary  to  reflect,  not  only 
on  the  universality  of  their  establishment,  but 
on  the  frequency  of  their  repetition.  Besides 
the  public  solemnities  already  described,  innu- 
merable provincial  festivals  were  celebrated  in 
each  particular  republic.  The  Athenians  em- 
ployed near  a third  part  of  the  year  in  such 
amusements ; and  if  we  may  be  allowed  to 
conjecture,  that  those  communities  which  insti- 
tuted most  festivals,  would  most  excel  in  the 
arts  and  exercises  displayed  in  them,  we  may 
conclude,  from  the  national  designations  of  the 
Olympic  victors  preserved  in  ancient  authors, 
that  the  number  of  the  Athenian  festivals  was 
rivalled  by  that  of  several  other  states. 

For  these  warlike  and  elegant  amusements, 
the  youth  were  carefully  trained  by  the  disci- 
pline of  the  gymnasia,  in  which  they  learned 
whatever  can  give  strength  and  agility  to  the 
limbs,  ease  and  grace  to  the  motions,  force  and 
beauty  to  the  genius.  Bodily  strength  and 
agility  were  accompanied  by  health  and  vigour 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


79 


VL] 

of  constitution.  Their  athletic  hardiness  bore, 
without  inconvenience,  the  vicissitudes  of  cold 
and  heat.  Even  in  the  scorching  warmth4  of 
July  (for  that  was  the  season  of  the  Olympic 
games,)  they  received,  bareheaded,  the  direct 
rays  of  the  sun.  And  the  firm  organization, 
acquired  by  perpetual  exercise,  counteracted 
that  fatal  propensity  to  vicious  indulgence,  too 
natural  to  their  voluptuous  climate,  and  pro- 
duced those  inimitable  models  of  strength  and 
beauty,  which  are  so  deservedly  admired  in  the 
precious  remains  of  Grecian  statuary. 

These  corporeal  advantages  were  followed  by 
a train  of  excellences  to  which  they  are  nearly 
allied.  There  is  a courage  depending  on  nerves 
and  blood,  which  was  improved  to  the  highest 
pitch  among  the  Greeks.  They  delight,  says 
Lucian,5  to  behold  the  combats  of  bold  and 
generous  animals;  and  their  own  contentions 
are  still  more  animated.  In  the  memorable 
war  with  Persia,  they  showed  the  superiority 
of  their  national  courage;  and  it  is  worthy  of 
observation,  that  the  most  signal  exploits  were 
performed  in  the  field  of  battle  by  those  who 
had  been  previously  adorned  with  the  Olympic 
crown.  It  was  a general  boast,  that  one  Gre- 
cian could  conquer  ten  Persians  ;6  and  the 
suggestions  of  reason  tend  to  confirm  the  evi- 
dence of  history.  In  the  battles  of  the  Greeks 
and  Persians,  victory  was  not  obtained  by  the 
mechanical  exertions  of  distant  hostility.  The 
contest  was  decided  by  the  point  of  the  sword 
and  spear.  The  use  of  these  weapons  requires 
activity  of  the  limbs,  steadiness  of  the  eye,  and 
dexterity  of  the  hand.  It  improves  the  courage 
as  well  as  the  vigour  of  the  soldier;  and  both 
qualities  were  admirably  promoted  by  the 
habitual  exercises  of  the  gymnasia,  which  in- 
spired not  only  the  spirit  to  undertake,  but  the 
ability  to  execute,  the  most  dangerous  and 
difficult  enterprises. 

The  gymnastic  arts  encouraged  other  excel- 
lences still  more  important  than  bodily  accom- 
plishments and  courage.  Chiefly  by  their  in- 
fluence, the  love  of  pleasure  and  the  love  of 
action,  the  two  most  powerful  principles  in  the 
human  breast,  were  directed  to  purposes  not 
only  innocent  but  useful.  The  desire  of  an 
Olympic  crown  restrained  alike  those  weak- 
nesses which  form  the  disgrace,  and  those  vices 
which  form  the  guilt  and  misery  of  undisci- 
plined minds ; and  an  object  of  earthly  and  per- 
ishable ambition  led  to  the  same  external  purity 
and  temperance,  that  is  recommended  by  the 
precepts,  and  enforced  by  the  sanctions,  of  a 
divine  and  immutable  religion.  The  oil,  the 
crown,  the  robes,  and  the  palms,  compose  not 
the  only  resemblance  between  the  Christian  and 
the  Olympic  victors.  These  visible  images  have 
been  borrowed  indeed  by  the  sacred  writers, 
to  assist  our  imperfect  conception  of  divine 
truths;7  but  they  have  been  borrowed  from 
an  institution  which  resembles  Christianity,  not 
in  the  honours  and  rewards  which  it  proposed, 
but  in  the  efforts  and  duties  which  it  required. 
The  ambition  of  honest  fame  taught  men  to 


4 Lucian,  Solon. 

5 In  Solon. 

6 Herodot.  1.  viii. 

7 1 Corinth.  9th  chapter,  four  last  verses. 


control  the  appetites  of  the  body  by  the  affec- 
tions of  the  soul;8  the  springs  of  emulation 
repressed  the  allurements  of  sensuality ; one 
dangerous  passion  combated  another  still  more 
dangerous;  and  a train  of  useful  prejudices 
supported  the  cause,  and  maintained  the  ascend- 
ant of  virtue. 

Many  of  the  peculiarities  which  distinguish 
the  Greeks  from  the  mass  of  ancient  and  mo- 
dern nations,  seem  to  have  derived  their  origin 
from  the  same  useful  institutions  ; particularly 
the  custom  of  going  unarmed,  and  their  per- 
petual contempt  for  the  capricious  notions  con- 
cerning the  point  of  honour.  These  unpolished 
republicans  were  accustomed,  in  the  private 
gymnasia,  as  well  as  at  the  public  entertain- 
ments, to  inflict  and  to  suffer  the  most  pro- 
voking indignities.  A barbarous  Scythian, 
who  witnessed  a spectacle  that  seemed  to  him 
as  shocking  and  intolerable  as  it  would  appear 
to  a punctilious  modern  gentleman,  declared  to 
his  Athenian  conductor,  that  if  any  person 
should  offer  the  same  insults  to  him,  which  the 
Athenian  youths  were  continually  offering  to 
each  other,  he  would  soon  convince  the  assem- 
bly, that  his  sword  was  not  an  empty  orna- 
ment of  his  person,  but  a useful  guardian  of  his 
honour.9  Such  were  the  sentiments  of  the 
Scythian;  and  history  proves,  that  such  are 
the  sentiments  of  all  uncultivated  minds.  An 
untutored  barbarian  sets  no  bounds  to  his  re- 
sentment. The  smallest  injury  renders  his 
anger  implacable ; his  indignation  against  the 
offender  is  proportioned,  not  to  the  nature  of 
his  offence,  but  to  his  own  pride,  which  is 
boundless.  The  slightest  fault  requires  the 
severest  atonement ; and  not  only  a blow,  but 
a word,  or  a look,  may  inflict  a stain  on  the 
delicacy  of  his  supposed  honour,  which  can 
only  be  washed  out  by  the  blood  of  the  aggres- 
sor. The  excesses  of  this  sanguinary  temper, 
before  they  were  corrected  by  the  refinements 
of  Grecian  philosophy,  were  repressed  by  the 
habitual  practice  of  the  gymnastic  exercises. 
In  the  schools  appropriated  to  the  advancement 
of  these  manly  arts,  the  Greeks  learned  the 
valuable  lesson  of  repelling  injuries  by  others 
of  a similar  kind,  of  proportioning  the  punish- 
ment to  the  offence,  and  of  thus  preventing  a 
slight  occasion  of  animosity  from  degenerating 
into  a solid  ground  of  revenge.  If  any  citizen 
of  those  warlike  republics  had  worn  armour  in 
time  of  peace,  he  must  have  been  regarded 
either  as  a madman  or  as  an  assassin ; for  to 
the  chastised  principles  of  Grecian  discipline, 
it  would  have  appeared  altogether  absurd  that 
the  sword  or  dagger  should  be  thought  neces- 
sary to  retaliate  the  reproaches  of  the  tongue, 
or  even  the  more  daring  insults  of  the  arm. 

The  entertainments  of  the  public  festivals 
thus  tended  to  eradicate  the  wild  excesses  Qf 
resentment,  and  to  improve  the  mild  and  gentle 
virtues ; but  considered  in  another  view,  the 
same  entertainments  were  calculated  to  pro- 
mote ardour,  emulation,  friendship,  patriotism, 
and  all  the  animated  principles  and  contentions 


8 Qui  studet  optatam  cursu  conlingere  metanJ 
Multa  tulit  fecitquo  puer  suclavit  et  alsit  / 
Abstinuit  venere  ct  vino. 

9 Lucian  Anacharsis. 


80 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


of  active  life.  The  rewards  bestowed  on  the 
conquerors  were  the  most  flattering  which  in 
that  age  could  be  proposed.  Odes  were  sung 
in  their  praise  ; statues  were  erected  to  them 
on  the  scene  of  victory ; the  names  of  their 
parents  and  country  were  jointly  celebrated 
with  their  own  ; they  were  entitled  to  the  first 
seats  at  all  public  entertainments;  maintained 
at  the  expense  of  their  respective  communities ; 
and  in  their  native  cities,  rewarded  not  only 
with  monuments  and  inscriptions,  but  some- 
times with  altars  and  temples.  Of  these 
honours  and  rewards,  the  appropriated  sym- 
bols were  the  olive,  the  pine,  the  parsley,  and 
the  laurel  crowns ; which  were  respectively  dis- 
tributed at  the  several  solemnities  of  Olympic, 
the  Isthmus,  Nemea,  and  Delphi.  Observing 
the  small  value  of  these  badges  of  distinction, 
without  adverting  to  the  solid  benefits  which 
they  conferred,  the  Persian  Tigranes  would 
have  dissuaded  his  master  from  going  to  war 
with  a people,  who,  insensible  to  interest, 
fought  only  for  glory.1  But  had  Tigranes 
been  more  completely  informed  concerning  the 
institutions  of  Greece,  he  would  have  under- 
stood, that  both  interest  and  glory  operated 
most  powerfully  upon  the  candidates  for  Olym- 
pic fame,  and  not  only  their  personal  interests, 
but  those  of  their  friends,  their  parents,  and 
their  country,  who,  being  associated  to  their 
honours,  were  regarded  by  them  with  that  love 
and  affection  which  men  naturally  feel  for  the 
objects  of  their  protection  and  bounty. 

In  explaining  the  influence  of  the  Grecian 
solemnities,  vTe  must  not  forget  the  musical 
and  poetical  exhibitions,  which,  from  being 
employed  to  reward  the  victors  in  the  gym- 
nastic exercises,  came  to  be  themselves  thought 
worthy  of  reward.  The  martial  lessons  of 
Tyrtseus  and  Callinus  admirably  conspired 
with  the  effects  which  have  already  been  de- 
scribed, encouraging  the  firm  and  manly  virtues 
both  by  the  enthusiasm  with  which  their  pre- 
cepts were  conveyed,  and  by  the  lively  impres- 
sions which  they  gave  of  those  objects  for 
vThich  it  is  important  to  contend.  The  cour- 
age depending  on  blood  and  nerves  is  uncer- 
tain and  transitory  in  its  existence ; and  even 
while  it  exists,  may  be  indifferently  employed 
to  purposes  beneficial  or  destructive.  It  be- 
longed to  the  martial  bards  to  determine  its 
doubtful  nature,  to  fix  and  illustrate  its  genuine 
motives,  and  to  direct  it  to  the  proper  objects 
of  its  pursuit. 

The  musical  entertainments  thus  strength- 
ened, refined,  and  exalted  the  manly  principles 
inspired  by  all  the  customs  and  institutions  of 
that-  warlike  age.  But  as  bravery  is  a hardy 
plant  that  grows  in  every  soil,  the  most  bene- 
ficial consequence  of  the  arts  consisted  in  in- 
fusing a proper  mixture  of  softness  and  sensi- 
bility into  the  Grecian  character.  This  is  well 


l'TJie  word  is  etgsrn?  in  the  original ; but  here  means  the 
reward  61  virtue.  Vid.  Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  26. 


[Chap. 

knowm  to  be  their  effect  in  every  country  where 
they  are  allowed  to  flourish.2  The  Greeks,  in. 
a peculiar  manner,  required  their  assistance ; 
nor  could  it  have  been  possible  for  that  people, 
without  the  happy  influence  of  the  arts,  to  con- 
trol the  barbarity  naturally  occasioned  by  their 
constant  employment  in  war,  the  savage  cruelty 
introduced  by  the  practice  of  domestic  servi- 
tude, and  that  unrelenting  ferocity  of  character 
which  seems  essentially  inherent  in  the  nature 
of  democratical  government.  Amidst  these 
sources  of  degeneracy  and  corruption,  the  time 
and  application  necessary  to  attain  proficiency 
in  the  pursuits  of  genius,  habituated  the  Greeks 
to  gentle  amusements  and  innocent  pleasures. 
The  honours  and  rewards  bestowed  on  the  suc- 
cessful candidates  for  literary  fame,  engaged 
them  to  seek  happiness  and  glory  in  the  peace- 
ful shade  of  retirement,  as  well  as  on  the  con- 
tentious theatre  of  active  life ; and  the  observa- 
tions and  discoveries  occasionally  suggested  by 
the  free  communication  of  sentiment,  strength- 
ened and  confirmed  those  happy  prejudices 
which  combat  on  the  side  of  virtue,  and  en- 
force the  practice  of  such  rules  of  behaviour  as 
are  most  useful  and  agreeable  in  society. 

If  the  musical  and  literary  entertainments 
acquired  such  a happy  influence  over  the  moral 
dispositions  of  the  heart,  they  produced  a still 
more  considerable  effect  on  the  intellectual  fa- 
culties of  the  mind.  It  is  almost  impossible,  in 
the  present  age,  to  conceive  the  full  extent  of 
their  efficacy  in  improving  the  memory,  ani- 
mating the  imagination,  and  correcting  the 
judgment.  As  to  the  memory,  indeed,  there 
is  a period  in  the  progress  of  society  preceding 
the  introduction  of  writing,  when  the  energies 
of  this  faculty  have  been  exerted  among  many 
nations  with  a wonderful  degree  of  force. 
Even  among  the  barbarous  Celtic  inhabitants 
of  our  own  island,  the  Druids  could  repeat  an 
incredible  number  of  verses,  containing  the 
knowledge  of  their  history,  laws,  and  religion  , 
and  a period  of  twenty  years  was  required  to 
complete  the  poetical  studies  of  a candidate  for 
the  priesthood.3 

But  if  the  Greeks  were  equalled  by  other 
nations  in  the  exercise  of  the  memory,  they 
have  always  been  unrivalled  in  the  delicacy  of 
their  taste,  and  the  inimitable  charms  of  their 
fancy.  These  excellences,  whether  originally 
produced  by  natural  or  moral  causes,  or  more 
probably  by  a combination  of  both,  were, 
doubtless,  extended  and  improved  by  emula- 
tion and  habitual  exercise.  To  this  exercise 
the  public  solemnities  afforded  a proper  field ; 
and,  in  the  contests  of  music  and  poetry,  were 
displayed  the  opening  blossoms  of  Grecian 
genius,  blossoms  which  afterwards  ripened  into 
those  fruits  of  philosophy  and  eloquence,  that 
will  form  the  admiration  and  delight  of  the 
last  ages  of  the  world. 

2 Ingenuas  didicisse  fideliter  artcs, 

Emollit  mores,  nec  sinit  esse  feroa. 

3 Csesar,  de  bello  Gallico,  1.  vi. 


) 


VII.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


81 


CHAPTER  VII. 


State  of  the  Grecian  Colonies — The  Ionians  flourish  in  Arts  and  Arms — Their  Wars  with  the 
Lydians — The  Asiatic  Greeks  subdued  by  Croesus — Splendour  of  the  Lydian  Court — Founda- 
tion of  the  Persian  Monarchy — Causes  of  its  rapid  Grandeur — Which  alarms  Croesus — His 
Alliance  with  the  Lacedaemonians — He  invades  the  Persian  Dominions— Measures  of  his 
Allies — Croesus  defeated  by  Cyrus — End  of  the  Lydian  Monarchy. 


A BOVE  two  thousand  years  have  elapsed 
since  it  was  observed,  to  the  honour  of  Eu- 
rope, that  a handful  of  Greeks, ^having  esta- 
blished themselves  in  Asia  and  Africa,  contin- 
ually maintained  and  extended  their  posses- 
sions in  those  quarters  of  the  world.4  Wherever 
the  spirit  of  enterprise  diffused  their  settle- 
Ol  d ments,  they  perceived,  it  is  said, 
xx  j on  the  slightest  comparison,  the  su- 

A^C  700  Periority  tlleir  own  religion,  lan- 
guage,  institutions,  and  manners  ; 
and  the  dignity  of  their  character  and  senti- 
ments eminently  distinguished  them  from  the 
general  mass  of  nations  whose  territories  they 
invaded,  and  whom  they  justly  denominated 
Barbarians.5  Yet  these  honourable  advantages, 
instead  of  conciliating  good-will,  tended  only 
to  exasperate  hostility.  The  northern  Greeks 
were  perpetually  harassed  by  the  fierce  inroads 
of  the  Thracians  : the  southern  were  endan- 
gered by  the  united  strength  of  Egypt  and 
Lybia.  The  colonies  in  Magna  Grcecia,  hav- 
ing easily  resisted  the  rude,  though  warlike  na- 
tives of  that  country,  were  called  to  contend 
with  the  more  formidable  power  of  Carthage. 
But  the  consequences  of  all  these  wars,  which 
shall  be  described  in  due  time,  extended  not 
beyond  the  countries  in  which  they  first  arose. 
The  memorable  conflict  between  the  Greek 
colonies  in  the  east,  and  the  great  nations  of 
Asia,  forms  a subject  more  vast  and  more  in- 
teresting. Not  confined  to  the  extremities,  it 
reached  and  shook  the  centre  of  Greece.  It 
recoiled  with  more  destructive  violence  on 
Persia;  its  duration  comprehends  the  most 
illustrious  period  in  the  history  of  both  coun- 
tries ; and  its  extent  embraces  all  the  great 
nations  of  antiquity,  together  with  the  scat- 
tered communities  of  Grecian  extraction  in 
every  part  of  the  world. 


In  the  third  century  after  their  establish- 
ment in  the  east,  and  above  seven  hundred 
years  before  the  Christian  era,  the  Greeks  of 
Asia,  and  particularly  the  Ionians,  far  surpass- 
ed their  European  ancestors  in  splendour  and 
prosperity.6  While  ancient  Greece  was  ha- 
rassed by  intestine  dissensions,  and  its  northern 
frontier  exposed  to  the  hostility  of  neighbour- 
ing Barbarians,  the  eastern  colonies  enjoyed 
profound  peace,  and  flourished  in  the  vicinity 
of  Phrygia  and  Lydia,  the  best  cultivated  and 
most  wealthy  provinces  of  Lower  Asia,7  and 
perhaps  of  the  ancient  world.  History  and 
poetry  alike  extol  the  golden  treasures  of  the 
Phrygian  and  Lydian  kings.8  Their  subjects 


4 Hippocrat.  vol.  i.  p.  350.  Edit.  Lugdun.  1703. 

5 Isocrat.  Panegyr.  passim. 

6 Herodot.  passim.  Plin.  1.  v.  et  Sonec.  ad  Hclv. 

7 Strabo,  1.  xii.  et  1.  xiii. 

8 Idem,  p.  628  et  621.  Edit.  Paris. 

L 


wrought  mines  of  gold,  melted  the  ore,  mould- 
ed figures  in  bronze,  dyed  weol,  cultivated 
music,  enjoyed  the  amusements  of  leisure,  and 
indulged  the  demands  of  luxury,9  when  the 
neighbouring  countries  of  Cappadocia  and  Ar- 
menia remained  equally  ignorant  of  laws  and 
arts,  and  when  the  Medes  and  Persians,  destined 
successively  to  obtain  the  empire  of  Asia,  lived 
in  scattered  villages,  subsisted  by  hunting, 
pasturage,  or  robbery,  and  were  clothed  with 
the  skins  of  wild  beasts.19 

Yet  the  Lydians  and  Phrygians,  satisfied 
with  their  domestic  advantages,  seem  never  to 
have  directed  their  attention  towards  foreign 
commerce.* 11  When  the  voluptuousness  or  os- 
tentation of  their  kings  and  nobility  made 
them  covet  the  conveniences  and  luxuries 
of  distant  countries,  they  were  contented  to 
owe  these  new  gratifications,  first  to  the  Phoe- 
nician merchants,  and  afterwards  to  the  Greek 
settlements  established  on  their  coasts.  Through 
the  supine  neglect  of  their  neighbours  respect- 
ing maritime  affairs,  the  Asiatic  Greeks  ac- 
quired without  contest,  and  enjoyed  without 
molestation,  besides  several  valuable  islands, 
the  whole  western  coast  of  the  continent,  ex- 
tending, in  a waving  line,  above  six  hundred 
miles  in  length,  beautifully  diversified  by  hill 
and  dale,  intersected  by  rivers,  broken  by  bays 
and  promontories,  and  adorned  by  the  noblest 
prospects  and  finest  climate  in  the  world.  The 
face  of  that  delightful  country  will  be  more 
particularly  described,  when  it  becomes  the 
unhappy  scene  of  military  operations.  It  is 
sufficient  at  present  to  observe,  that  its  Ionian 
inhabitants,  possessing  the  mouths  of  great 
rivers,  having  convenient  and  capacious  har- 
bours before  them,  and  behind,  the  wealthy 
and  populous  nations  of  Asia,  whose  commerce 
they  enjoyed  and  engrossed,  attained  such  early 
and  rapid  proficiency  in  the  arts  of  navigation 
and  traffic,  as  raised  the  cities  of  Miletus,12 
Colophon,13  and  Phocsea,14  to  an  extraordinary 
pitch  of  opulence  and  grandeur.  Their  popu- 
lation increasing  with  their  prosperity,  they 
diffused  new  colonies  every  where  around  them. 

9 Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  xciv.  Plin.  1.  vi.  c.  Ivi. 

10  Herod.  1.  i.  c.  lxxi. 

11  The  Lydians  and  Phrygians  are  mentioned,  in  Castor’s 
Epochs,  among  the  seventeen  nations,  who.  according  to 
that  careless  and  ignorant  compiler,  successively  became 
masters  of  the  Mediterranean  sea ; but  the  extravagant 
dreams  of  this  fabulous  writer  are  at  variance  with  the 
whole  tenor*  of  ancient  history.  It  is  extraordinary  that 
those  who  ever  looked  into  Herodotus  should  pay  any  re- 
gard to  the  unwfirranted  assertions  of  Castor ; yet  this 
fabulist  has  been  generally  followed  by  modern  chronolo- 
ger  and  compilers.  See  Blair’s  Tables,  &c. 

12  Athenaeus,  1.  xii.  p.  523.  Comparing  their  ancient  and 

actual  state,  the  Greek  proverb  said,  TtuXxi  7rors  »o-«v 
uKxipoi  ; Once,  but  long  ago,  the  Milesians  wore 

powerful. 

13  Athen.  1.  xiv.  p.  643. 

14  Strabo,  p.  582  ot  p.  617.  Herodot.  1.  iv.  c.  clii. 


82 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Having  obtained  footing  in  Egypt,1  in  the 
eighth  century  before  Christ,  they  acquired, 
and  thenceforth  preserved,  the  exclusive  com- 
merce of  that  ancient  and  powerful  kingdom. 
Their  territories,  though  in  their  greatest  breadth 
compressed  between  the  sea  and  the  dominions 
of  Lydia  to  the  extent  of  scarce  forty  miles, 
became  not  only  flourishing  in  peace,  but  for- 
midable in  war,2  and  bore  something  of  a 
similar  relation  to  the  powerful  kingdoms  of 
Egypt,  Lydia,  and  Assyria,  which  had  hither- 
to swayed  the  politics  of  the  ancient  world, 
that  the  small  but  industrious  republics  of  Italy 
had  to  the  rest  of  Europe  in  the  thirteenth  and 
fourteenth  centuries ; or,  to  describe  their  con- 
dition still  more  exactly,  that  the  Netherlands, 
three  hundred  years  ago,  had  to  the  extensive 
countries  of  France,  England,  and  Germany. 

Such  multiplied  advantages  could  not  lan- 
guish in  the  hands  of  men,  who,  as  we  shall 
soon  learn  from  their  history,  had  genius  to 
conceive,  and  courage  to  execute,  the  most  ar- 
duous designs.  With  the  utmost  industry  and 
perseverance  they  improved  and  ennobled  the 
useful  or  elegant  arts,  which  they  found  al- 
ready practised  among  the  Phrygians  and  Ly- 
dians. They  incorporated  the  music  of  those 
nations  with  their  own.  Their  poetry,  as  above 
described,  far  excelled  whatever  Pagan  anti- 
quity could  boast  most  precious.3  They  rival- 
led the  skill  of  their  neighbours  in  moulding 
clay,  and  casting  brass.  They  appear  to  have 
been  the  first  people  who  made  statues  of  mar- 
ble. The  Doric  and  Ionic  orders  of  architec- 
ture perpetuate,  in  their  names,  the  honour  of 
their  inventors.  Painting  was  first  reduced  to 
rule,  and  practised  with  success  among  the 
Greeks ; and  we  may  be  assured  that,  during 
the  seventh  century  before  Christ,  the  Ionian  s 
surpassed  all  their  neighbours,  and  even  the 
Phoenicians,  in  the  arts  of  design,  since  the 
magnificent  presents  which  the  far-famed  ora- 
cle of  Delphi  received  from  the  ostentation  or 
piety  of  the  Lydian  kings,  were  chiefly  the  pro- 
ductions of  Ionian  artists.4  In  the  following 
century  Ionia  gave  birth  to  philosophy;  and 
we  shall  have  occasion  to  explain  hereafter  by 
what  means  both  science  and  taste  were  dif- 
fused from  that  country  over  Greece,  Italy,  and 
Sicily.  But  our  present  subject  recals  us  from 
the  history  of  arts  to  that  of  arms. 

The  first  formidable  enemies  with  whom  the 
Asiatic  Greeks  had  to  contend,  were  the  bar- 
barous Cimmerians,5  who,  being  driven  from 
the  banks  of  the  Euxine,  by  a Scythian  horde 
still  fiercer  than  themselves,  overflowed,  with 
irresistible  violence,  the  finest  provinces  of 
Asia  Minor.  But  the  invasion  of  the  Cim- 
merians is  described  as  a predatory  incursion,6 
not  as  a regular  plan  of  enterprise  directed  to 
the  purposes  of  conquest  and  settlement.  The 

1 Herodot.  1.  ii.  c.  xxxii. 

2 Idem,  ibid,  et  Aristot.  de  Civitat.  1.  iv.  c.  iv. 

3 See  chap.  vi.  4 Herodot.  1.  L 

5 Strabo,  p.  292,  says,  that  the  Cimmerians  were  called 
Cimbri  by  the  Romans.  He  speaks  frequently  of  them, 
particularly  p.  108.  193.  292.  494.  Their  impetuous  and 
destructive  incursions  are  well  expressed  by  the  elegiac 
poet  Callinus,  cited  in  Strabo,  p.  648. 

Nov  S’tTTl  KlflftSglWV  (TTgXTCf  O/iGlfJtOlg yolV. 

6 Oo  xa,T&trTgo$ti  tytvero  t<uv  ztoKkm  *Wx  string o- 

H*IS  agTruyv,.  HERODOT. 


[Chaf. 

hurricane  soon  spent  its  force  ; the  Greeks  re- 
covered from  the  terror  inspired  by  these  de- 
sultory ravagers,  and,  within  a few  years  after 
their  departure,  the  Ionian  and  Eolian  colonies, 
who  seem  to  have  carried  their  ancient  enmity 
into  their  new  acquisitions,  totally  forgot  their 
recent  and  common  danger,  and  engaged  in 
cruel  domestic  wars. 

These  unnatural  dissensions  were  quieted  by 
the  growing  power  of  the  Lydians,  which  ex- 
tending itself  on  all  sides,  finally  reduced  the 
greatest  part  of  Lesser  Asia,  a country  once 
affording  the  materials  of  many  rich  and  flour- 
ishing kingdoms,  but  now  reduced  to  beggary 
and  barbarism  under  the  oppressive  yoke  of 
Turkish  tyranny.  The  territory  of  Lydia, 
which  extended  its  name  with  its  authority 
from  the  river  Halvs  to  the  iEgean,  and  from 
the  southern  shore  of  the  Euxine  to  the  northern 
coast  of  the  Mediterranean,  was  anciently  con- 
fined to  that  delightful  district  situate  at  the 
back  of  Ionia,  watered  on  the  north  by  the 
river  Pactolus,  famous  for  the  golden  particles7 
intermixed  with  its  sand,  and  on  the  south  by 
Cayster,  whose  banks,  frequented  by  swans, 
have  afforded  one  of  the  most  beautiful  com 
parisons  in  the  Iliad.8  The  kingdom  of  Ly- 
dia was  anciently  subject  to  a race  of  princes,9 
styled  Atyatidse,  from  the  heroic  Atys,  the  great 
founder  of  their  house.  To  the  family  of  Atys 
succeeded  that  of  Hercules,  which  had  obtained 
the  government  before  the  war  of  Troy,  and 
continued  to  reign  five  hundred  and  five  years, 
till  their  honours  expired  in  the  unhappy  Can- 
daules.  The  story  of  Candaules,  of  his  beau- 
tiful wife,  and  of  his  fortunate  servant,  has 
been  adorned  by  the  father  of  history  with  the 
inimitable  charms  of  his  Ionic  fancy.  The 
vain,  credulous  prince,  injudiciously  displaying 
the  beauty,  offended  the  modesty,  of  his  injured 
spouse.  Gyges,10  the  most  favoured  of  her 
husband’s  attendants,  to  whom  his  weak  mas- 
ter had  prostituted  the  sight  of  her  naked 
charms,  was  involuntarily  employed  as  the  in- 
qi  strument  of  her  resentment.  As  a 

v rP‘  rewar(i  for  taking  away  the  life  of 
A*  C 719  Candaules,  he  was  honoured  with 
the  hand  of  the  queen,  and  from 
the  rank  of  captain  of  the  guards,  advanced  to 
the  throne  of  Lydia. 

This  revolution,  which  happened  seven  hun- 
dred and  eighteen  years  before  Christ,  was  felt 
by  the  neighbouring  nations,  who  soon  dis- 
covered in  the  enterprising  character  of  Gyges, 
the  difference  between  adventurers  who  ac- 
quire, and  princes  who  inherit,  a crown.  The 
Ionian  cities  of  Asia  offered  a tempting  prize  to 
the  valour  of  Gyges,  and  the  valuable  mines11 
discovered  between  the  cities  Atarneus  and 


7 They  were  washed  down  from  Mount  Tmolus,  the 
gold  of  which  was  exhausted  in  the  time  of  Strabo.  Vid. 
Strab.  1.  xiii. 

8 Kxvtrrgtou  a/utpi  pssBgx,  Sec.  Iliad,  ii.  ver.  460.  and 
Pope.  ver.  540. 

9 Herodotus,  1.  i.  throughout,  and  Dionysius  of  Hali- 
carnassus, 1.  i.  c.  27.  et  seq.  furnish  the  principal  materials 
for  the  history  of  Lydia. 

10  Herodotus  was  unacquainted  with  the  wonderful  story 
of  Gyges’s  ring,  which  had  the  power  of  rendering  him  in- 
visible ; by  means  of  which  he  was  enabled  to  kill  his  mas 
ter,  and  usurp  his  throne.  Plato,  1.  ii.  de  Repub. 

11  Strabo,  1.  xiii.  p.  625 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


VII.] 


83 


XXV.  1. 

A.  C.  680 


Pergamos,  as  well  as  the  gold  obtained  from 
the  river  Pactolus,10  enabled  him  to  hire  such  a 
number  of  troops  as  seemed  ne- 
y P*  cessary  to  accomplish  his  ambitious 
designs.  The  citizens  of  Miletus 
and  Smyrna  were  harassed  by  a 
long  war ; but  of  all  the  Tonic  settlements,  Co- 
lophon alone  submitted  to  his  arms. 

Ardys  his  successor,  following  the  military 
example  of  Gyges,  stormed  the  city 
1 of  Priene,  and  invaded  the  terri- 

A*  C 619  ^or^es  ^he  Milesians.  He  trans- 
' * * mitted  his  enmity,  against  that  peo- 

ple, to  his  son  Sadyattes,  from  whom  it  de- 
scended to  his  more  warlike  grandson.  Aly- 
attes,  grandson  of  Ardys,  annually  invaded  the 
country  of  Miletus,  cut  down  the  trees,  burnt 
the  standing  corn,  ravaged  and  desolated  the 
whole  territory.  The  houses  he  allowed  to  re- 
main entire,  .that  the  Milesians,  governed  by 
that  powerful  attachment  which  binds  men  to 
their  ancient  habitations,  might  return  thither 
after  his  departure,  and  again  apply  to  the 
sowing  and  cultivation  of  the  ground,  the  ffuits 
of  which  he  was  determined  next  harvest  to 
destroy.  In  this  manner  he  continued,  during 
eleven  years,  to  harass,  but  was  unable  to 
conquer,  the  Milesians.  The  inhabitants  of  the 
country  retired  at  his  approach,  and  shut  them- 
selves up  in  their  capital,  the  walls  of  which 
bid  defiance  to  his  assaults ; nor  was  it  possi- 
ble to  reduce  by  blockade  a city  that  had  long 
been,  and  still  continued  mistress  of  the  sea. 
But  Alyattes  persisted  in  distressing  those 
whom  it  seemed  impossible  to  subdue  ; and  he 
was  carrying  on  his  twelfth  autumnal  incur- 
sion with  fire  and  sword,  when  an  unforeseen 
accident  occasioned  a speedy  termination  of  the 
war. 

The  beautiful  territory  of  Mile- 
tus was,  according  to  annual  cus- 
A^C  ^607  ^om,  thrown  into  a blaze,  and  the 
flames  of  thp  standing  corn,  impel- 
led by  the  violence  of  the  wind,  communicated 
with  the  temple  of  Assesian  Minerva.  That 
sacred  edifice  was  burnt  to  the  ground.  Aly- 
attes, who  was  attended  on  his  march  by  pipes, 
harps,  and  flutes,  adapted  to  the  voice  both 
of  men  and  of  women,  did  not  immediately 
consider,  amidst  the  noise  of  festivity,  and  the 
parade  of  military  triumph,  the  fatal  conse- 
quences of  this  enormous  impiety.  But  sicken- 
ing soon  after  at  Sardis,  he  had  leisure,  during 
the  quiet  and  solitude  of  his  distemper,  to  re- 
flect on  the  horror  of  his  crime  ; and  prying 
into  futurity  with  that  anxious  solicitude  which 
usually  attends  guilt,  he  despatched  messen- 
gers to  the  temple  of  Delphi,  to  consult  the 
Grecian  god  concerning  the  means  of  mitiga- 
ting the  distress  of  his  present  state  of  mind. 
Apollo  refused  giving  an  answer  to  his  peti- 
tion, until  he  had  rebuilt  the  temple  of  Mi- 
nerva. The  Lydian  prepared  to  comply  with 
this  condition,  and  immediately  sent  ambassa- 
dors to  Miletus,  to  propose  a suspension  of 


Olymp 
xliii.  2 


10  Strabo,  p.  680.  The  wealth  of  Gyges  was  proverbial 
in  the  time  ot  Anacreon  : 

Ou  /uoi  ju5X.fi  Tuyxio 
Tcv  ZxgStwv  xvxxrog,  See. 


arms,  until  the.  great  work  should  be  completed. 
That  city  was  then  governed  by  Thrasybulus, 
who,  by  one  of  those  revolutions  not  unfre- 
quent in  the  Grecian  republics,  had  attained 
the  rank  of  tyrant,11  as  it  was  then  called,  in  a 
state  usually  governed  as  a democratical  com- 
munity. Similarity  of  views  and  disposi- 
tions had  introduced  a friendly  connection  be- 
tween Thrasybulus  and  the  celebrated  Perian- 
der  of  Corinth,  who  was  no  so cftier  acquainted 
with  the  advice  of  Apollo,  than  he  sent  imme- 
diate intimation  of  it  to  the  Milesian  prince, 
counselling  him  at  the  same  time  to  avail  him- 
self of  the  present  conjuncture  to  promote  the 
interest  of  his  country.  In  compliance  with 
this  advice;  Thrasybulus  employed  an  expe- 
dient equally  singular  and  successful.  When 
the  Lydian  ambassadors  arrived  at  Miletus, 
they  expected  to  behold  a city  in  distress,  not 
only  destitute  of  the  accommodations  and  luxu- 
ries, but  ill  provided  with  the  chief  necessaries 
of  life.  But  their  surprise  was  extreme,  to  ob- 
serve vast  magazines  of  corn  open  to  public 
view,  to  perceive  an  extraordinary  abundance 
of  all  the  other  fruits  of  the  ground  ; and  to 
behold  the  inhabitants  revelling  in  fulness  and 
festivity,  as  if  their  country  had  never  suffered 
the  cruel  ravages  of  an  invader.  This  appear- 
ance of  ease  and  plenty  was  exhibited  by  the 
contrivance  of  Thrasybulus,  by  whose  com- 
mand the  corn  and  other  provisions  had  been 
carried  from  private  magazines  into  the  street, 
that  the  Lydians,  returning  to  Sardis,  the  usual 
residence  of  their  prince,  might  acquaint  him 
with  the  prosperous  condition  of  a people, 
whom  it  had  been  the  great  object  of  his  reign  to 
afflict  and  to  annoy.  Alyattes  was  much  affect- 
ed by  the  intelligence,  and  at  length  consented 
to  a peace  with  the  Milesians  on  honourable 
terms.  To  compensate  for  his  past  injuries  and 
impiety,  he  promised  to  dedicate  to  Minerva 
two  new  edifices,  the  magnificence  of  which 
should  far  eclipse  the  splendour  of  her  ancient 
temple.  The  promise  was  performed,  the  new 
temples  were  consecrated,  Alyattes  recovered 
from  his  distemper,  and  peace  subsisted  for  a 
short  time  between  the  two  nations. 

The  long  reign  of  Alyattes,  which,  if  we  may 
credit  the  doubtful  evidence  of  ancient  authors 
in  matters  of  chronology, lasted  fifty-two  years 
after  the  treaty  with  Miletus,  was  not  chequer- 
ed with  any  great  variety  of  fortune.  He  con- 
quered, indeed,  the  city  and  small  territory  of 
Smyrna,  a Grecian  settlement  then  in  its  in- 
fancy, but  which  was  destined  afterwards  to 
become,  by  its  happy  situation  for  commerce, 
the  most  wealthy  and  populous  establishment 
in  those  parts,  and  to  be  styled,  in  the  pompous 
language  of  inscription,  the  ornament  of  Ionia, 
the  first  and  chief  city  of  the  Asiatic  coast.12 
His  arms  were  equally  successful  in  repelling 


11  In  the  strict  sense,  rvgxvvog  means  him  who  has  ac- 
quired sovereignty  in  a free  republic.  The  word  has  no  re- 
lation to  the  abuse  of  powor,  as  in  the  modern  acceptation. 
Thrasybulus  of  Miletus,  Periander  of  Corinth,  Pisistratus 
of  Athens,  Polycratcs  of  Samos,  Alexander  of  Pherm,  and 
Dionysius  of  Syrncuse,  were  all  called  Tvgxwog,  though 
their  characters  were  as  widely  different  as  those  of  Titus 
and  Domitian,  the  extremes  ofvirtuo  and  vice. 

12  Marm.  Oxon. 


84 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


the  destructive  invasions  of  the  Scythian 
hordes,  who  ravaged  the  northern  parts  of  his 
dominions,  and  in  resisting  the  dangerous  am- 
bition of  the  Medes,  the  most  powerful  nation 
of  Upper  Asia.  Satisfied  with  these  advan- 
tages, Alyattes  became  unwilling  to  commit  his 
future  fortune  to  the  vicissitudes  of  war.  Fixed 
in  this  purpose,  he  spent  his  remaining  days 
amidst  the  happiness  of  his  wealth  and  gran- 
deur, in  contemplating  the  various  stages  of 
his  prosperity,  in  listening  to  the  flattery  of  his 
courtiers,  in  receiving  the  grateful  homage  of 
his  subjects,  and  in  enjoying  that  pomp  and 
pleasure  which  usually  surround  an  eastern 
throne. 

This  fortunate  prince  was  suceed- 
ymp.  e(j  ve  hundred  and  sixty-two  years 
*v‘  ' rQn  before  Christ,  by  his  son  Croesus, 
‘ ' ' whose  uninterrupted  prosperity,  in 

the  first  years  of  his  reign,  far  eclipsed  the  glory 
of  all  his  predecessors.  But  the  splendour  of 
Croesus  was  that  of  a passing  meteor,  which 
dazzles  for  a moment,  and  disappears  for  ever. 
Of  all  the  kings  of  Lydia,  he  was  the  greatest 
conqueror,  but  he  was  also  the  last  king  of  that 
country,1  as  well  as  the  last  prince  of  his 
family.  Under  various  unjust  pretences  he  at- 
tacked the  Grecian  cities  of  Asia  Minor,  which 
being  undisturbed  by  foreign  war,  had  un- 
fortunately engaged  in  domestic  dissensions. 
While  jealousy  hindered  the  Greeks,  ignorance 
prevented  the  barbarians,  from  forming  a con- 
federacy sufficient  to  resist  the  Lydian  power. 
The  Carians,  Mysians,  and  Phrygians,  fighting 
singly,  were  successively  subdued ; and  the 
whole  peninsula  of  Lesser  Asia  (excepting  only 
the  little  territory  of  the  Lycians  and  Cilicians,) 
extending  eastward  as  far  as  the  river  Halys, 
and  inhabited  by  three  nations  of  Grecian,  and 
eleven  of  barbarian  extraction,2  finally  acknow- 
ledged the  power  of  Croesus,  and  tamely  re- 
ceived his  commands. 

Having  met  with  such  extraordinary  suc- 
cess by  land,  the  Lydian  prince  determined  to 
render  his  power  equally  conspicuous  by  sea. 
For  this  purpose  he  thought  seriously  of  equip- 
ping a fleet,  with  which  he  proposed  to  invade 
and  conquer  the  Grecian  islands  directly  front- 
ing his  dominions.  But  this  design,  which, 
considering  the  slow  progress  in  maritime 
power  among  the  nations  most  diligent  to  at- 
tain it,  would  probably  have  failed  of  success, 
was  prevented  by  the  advice  of  a philosophical 
traveller,  conveyed  in  such  a lively  turn  of  wit, 
as  easily  changed  the  resolution  of  the  king. 
Bias  of  Priene,  in  Ionia,  some  say  Pittacus  of 
Mitylene,  in  the  isle  of  Lesbos,  while  he  travel- 
led, after  the  Grecian  custom,  from  curiosity 
and  a love  of  knowledge,  was  ‘presented  to 
Croesus  at  the  Lydian  court ; and  being  asked 
by  that  prince,  what  news  from  Greece  ? he 
answered  with  a republican  freedom,  that  the 
islanders  had  collected  powerful  squadrons  of 
cavalry,  with  an  intention  of  invading  Lydia. 
“May  the  gods  grant,”  said  Croesus,  “that  the 


1 Lydia  descended  to  the  rank  of  a province,  as  will  ap- 
pear below. 

2 The  Phrygians,  Mysians,  Mariandvnians,  Chalvbians, 
Lydians,  Paphlagonians,  Thracians,  Bithynians,  Carians, 
and  Pamphyiians. 


[Chap. 

Greeks,  who  are  unacquainted  with  horseman- 
ship, should  attack  the  disciplined  valour  of  the 
Lydian  cavalry ; there  wculd  soon  be  an  end 
to’ the  contest.”  “In  the  same  manner,”  re- 
plied Bias,  “ as  if  the  Lydians,  who  are  totally 
unexperienced  in  naval  affairs,  should  invade 
the  Grecians  by  sea.”  Struck  by  the  acute- 
ness of  this  unexpected  observation,  Croesus 
desisted  from  his  intended  expedition  against 
the  islands ; and  instead  of  employing  new 
means  for  extending  his  conquests,  determined 
peaceably  to  enjoy  the  laurels  which  he  had 
won,  and  to  display  the  grandeur  which  he  had 
attained. 

His  court  was  the  gayest  and  most  splendid 
of  any  in  that  age ; and  the  Asiatic  Greeks, 
whatever  dishonour  they  incurred,  sustained 
not,  perhaps,  any  real  loss  by  their  easy  sub- 
mission to  a vain  and  weak  man,  but  a magni- 
ficent and  liberal  prince,3  who  was  extremely 
partial  to  their  country.  They  acknowledged 
the  conqueror,  indeed,  by  a very  moderate  tri- 
bute, but  they  enjoyed  their  ancient  laws,  and 
administered  without  control  their  domestic 
concerns  and  government.4  Croesus  spoke  their 
language,  encouraged  their  arts,  admired  their 
poets  and  sophists.  Ionia,  perhaps,  was5  never 
more  happy  than  under  the  eye  of  this  indulgent 
master,  whose  protection  nourished  the  tender 
shoot  of  philosophy,  which  had  begun  to  spring 
up  shortly  before  his  reign.  Thales  of  Mile- 
tus, Pittacus  of  Mitylene,  Bias  of  Priene,  Cleo- 
bulus  of  Lindus  ’and  the  other  wise  men,  as 
they  are  emphatically  styled,  who  lived  in  that 
age,  not  only  gave  advice  and  assistance  to 
their  countrymen  in  particular  emergencies, 
but  restrained  their  vices  by  wholesome  laws, 
improved  their  manners  by  useful  lessons  of 
morality,  and  extended  their  knowledge  by  im- 
portant and  difficult  discoveries.  We  shall 
have  occasion  hereafter  to  consider  more  fully 
the  improvements  made  by  those  ancient  sages, 
who  are  said  to  have  maintained  a correspond- 
ence with  each  other  as  well  as  with  Chilon  of 
Sparta,  Periander  of  Corinth,  and  Solon  of 
Athens,  men  who  acquired  such  reputation  by 
their  practical  wisdom,  as  rendered  them  the 
oracles  of  their  respective  countries.  Most  of 
these,  as  well  as  iEsop  the  fabulist,  and  the  ele- 
gant Greek  poets  of  the  times,  were  bountifully 
received  at  the  court  of  Croesus.  There  is  still 
on  record  a memorable  conversation  between 
that  prince  and  Solon,  which  seemed  to  predict 
the  subsequent  events  of  his  reign,  and  which 
had  a late,  but  important  influence  on  the 
character  and  fortune  of  the  Lydian  king. 

Croesus  having  entertained  his  Athenian 
guest,  according  to  the  ancient  fashion,  for  se- 
veral days,  before  he  asked  him  any  questions, 
ostentatiously  showed  him  the  magnificence  of 
his  palace,  and  particularly  the  riches  of  his 
treasury.  After  all  had  been  displayed  to  the 
best  advantage,  the  king  complimented  Solon 


3 Such  is  the  character  which  results  from  considering 
the  conduct  of  Crmsus.  The  transactions  of  his  reign  will 
not  warrant  our  adopting  the  admirable  panegyric  of  him 
by  Pindar  (Pylh.  i.:) 

Oo  $5ivm  Kjoktou  cuv  ag «t>i,  &c. 

Tie  was  taught  wisdom  late,  and  only  bv  adversity. 

4 Herodot.  5 Thucydid. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


85 


VII.] 

upon  liis  curiosity  and  love  of  knowledge ; and 
asked  him,  as  a man  who  had  seen  many  coun- 
tries, and  reflected  with  much  judgment  upon 
what  he  had  seen,  whom  of  all  men  he  esteem- 
ed most  happy?  By  the  particular  occasion,  as 
well  as  the  triumphant  air  with  which  the 
question  was  proposed,  the  king  made  it  evi- 
dent that  he  expected  flattery  rather  than  in- 
formation. But  Solon’s  character  had  not  been 
enervated  by  the  debilitating  air  of  a court,  and 
he  replied  with  a manly  freedom,  “ Tellus,  the 
Athenian.”  Croesus,  who  had  scarcely  learned 
to  distinguish,  even  in  imagination,  between 
wealth  and  happiness,  inquired  with  a tone  of 
surprise,  why  this  preference  to  Tellus  ? “ Tel- 
lus,” rejoined  Solon,  “ was  not  conspicuous  for 
his  riches,  or  his  grandeur,  being  only  a simple 
citizen  of  Athens ; but  he  was  descended  from 
parents  who  deserved  the  first  honours  of  the 
republic.  He  was  equally  fortunate  in  his 
children,  who  obtained  universal  esteem  by 
their  probity,  patriotism,  and  every  useful 
quality  of  the  mind  or  body  ; and  as  to  him- 
self, he  died  fighting  gallantly  in  the  service  of 
his  country,  which  his  valour  rendered  victo- 
rious in  a doubtful  combat ; on  which  account 
the  Athenians  buried  him  on  the  spot  where  he 
fell, and  distinguished  him  by  every  honour  which 
public  gratitude  can  confer  on  illustrious  merit.” 
Croesus  had  little  encouragement,  after  this 
answer,  to  ask  Solon,  in  the  second  place, 
whom,  next  to  Tellus,  he  deemed  most  happy  ? 
Such,  however,  is  the  illusion  of  vanity,  that 
he  still  ventured  to  make  this  demand,  and 
still,  as  we  are  informed  by  the  most  circum- 
stantial of  historians, entertained  hopes  of  being 
favourably  answered.  But  Solon  replied  with 
the  same  freedom  as  before,  “ The  brothers 
Cleobis  and  Biton;  two  youths  of  Argos,  whose 
strength  and  address  were  crowned  with  repeat- 
ed victory  at  the  Olympic  games ; who  deserv- 
ed the  affection  of  their  parents,  the  gratitude 
of  their  country,  the  admiration  of  Greece ; 
and  who,  having  ended  their  lives  with  pecu- 
liar felicity,6  were  commemorated  by  the  most 
signal  monuments  of  immortal  fame.”  “ And 
is  the  happiness  of  a king,  then,”  said  Croesus, 
41  so  little  regarded,  O Grecian  stranger ! that 
you  prefer  to  it  the  mean  condition  of  an  Athe- 
nian or  Argive  citizen  ?”  The  reply  of  Solon 
sufficiently  justified  his  reputation  for  wisdom. 
“ The  life  of  man,”  said  he,  ‘‘consists  of  seventy 
years,  which  make  twenty-six  thousand  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  days;  an  immense  number,  yet  in 
the  longest  life,  the  events  of  any  one  day  will 
not  be  found  exactly  alike  to  those  of  another. 
The  affairs  of  men  are  liable  to  perpetual  vicis- 
situdes ; the  Divinity  who  presides  over  our 
fate  is  envious  of  too  much  prosperity ; and  all 
human  life,  if  not  condemned  to  calamity,  is  at 
least  liable  to  accident.7  Whoever  has  uninter- 
ruptedly enjoyed  a prosperous  tide  of  success 
may  justly  be  called  fortunate : but  he  cannot  be- 
fore his  death  be  entitled  to  the  epithet  of  happy.” 
The  events  which  soon  followed  this  conver- 
sation, prove  how  little  satisfaction  is  derived 


G T£X.eun)  too  5iov  agurrui  t7riytviT0.  Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  31. 

7 Outgo  <rv  o>  Kgoiire  jtmj  (<rr«  uvOgfutrog  wv/xQigyi.  The 
last  word  is  improperly  explained  in  all  the  translations  that 
1 have  met  with. 


from  the  possession  of  a throne.  Victorious  in 
war,  unrivalled  in  wealth,  supreme  in  power, 
Croesus  felt  and  acknowledged  his  unhappi- 
ness. The  warmest  affections  of  his  soul  cen- 
tred in  his  son  Atys,  a youth  of  the  most  pro- 
mising hopes,  who  had  often  fought  and  con- 
quered by  his  side.  The  strength  of  his  at 
taehment  was  accompanied  with  an  excess  of 
paternal  care,  and  the  anxiety  of  his  waking 
hours  disturbed  the  tranquillity  of  his  rest. 
He  dreamed  that  his  beloved  son  was  slain 
by  a dart ; and  the  solicitude  with  which  he 
watched  his  safety,  preventing  the  youth  from 
his  usual  occupations  and  amusements,  and 
thereby  rendering  him  too  eager  to  enjoy  them, 
most  probably  exposed  him  to  the  much-dread- 
ed misfortune.  Reluctantly  permitted  to  en- 
gage in  a party  of  hunting,  the  juvenile  ardour 
of  Atys,  increased  by  the  impatience  of  long 
restraint,  made  him  neglect  the  precautions 
necessary  in  that  manly  amusement.  He  was 
slain  by  a dart,  aimed  at  a wild  boar  of  mon- 
strous size,  which  had  long  spread  terror  over 
the  country  of  the  Mysians.  The  weapon 
came  from  the  hand  of  Adrastus,  a Phrygian 
prince  and  fugitive,  whom  Croesus  had  purified 
from  the  involuntary  guilt  of  a brother’s  blood, 
and  long  distinguished  by  peculiar  marks  of 
bounty.  To  the  grateful  protection  of  the 
Phrygian,  Croesus  recommended,  at  parting, 
the  safety  of  his  beloved  son.  A mournful 
procession  of  Lydians  brought  to  Sardis  the 
dead  body  of  Atys.  The  lli-fated  murderer 
followed  behind.  When  they  approached  the 
royal  presence,  Adrastus  stepped  forward,  and 
intreated  Croesus  to  put  him  to  death  ; thinking 
life  no  longer  to  be  endured  after  killing  first  his 
own  brother,  and  then  the  son  of  his  benefactor. 
But  the  Lydian  king,  notwithstanding  the  ex- 
cess of  his  affliction,  acknowledged  the  inno- 
cence of  Adrastus,  and  the  power  of  fate 
“ Stranger,  your  action  is  blameless,  being  com 
mitted  without  design.  I know  that  my  son 
was  destined  to  a premature  death.”  Adras- 
tus, though  pardoned  by  Croesus,  could  not 
pardon  himself.  When  the  mourners  were  re- 
moved, he  privately  returned,  and  perished  by 
his  own  hand  on  the  tomb  of  Atys. 

Two  years  Croesus  remained  disconsolate  for 
the  loss  of  his  son,  and  might  have  continued 
to  indulge  his  unavailing  affliction  during  the 
remainder  of  life,  had  not  the  growing  great- 
ness of  Persia,  which  threatened  the  safety  of 
his  dominions,  roused  him  from  his  dream  of 
misery.  That  country  was  anciently  confined 
to  a small  part  of  the  immense  region  at  pre- 
sent known  by  the  Persian  name.  Its  inhabit- 
ants had  recently  become  formidable,  ahd,  in 
the  course  of  a few  years,  under  the  elder 
Cyrus,  they  extended  their  name  and  conquests 
over  Upper  Asia,  overturned  the  power  of 
Croesus,  enslaved  the  Greeks  of  Asia  Minor, 
and,  for  the  first  time,  threatened  Europe  with 
the  terrors  of  Asiatic  despotism.  This  memo- 
rable revolution  deserves  not  only  to  be  ex- 
amined in  its  consequences,  but  traced  to  its 
source,  because  the  Grecian  wars  and  transac- 
tions, during  the  space  of  above  two  centuries, 
with  the  Persian  empire,  form  an  important 
object  of  attention  in  the  present  history. 


86 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Thjg  first  Assyrian  monarchy  extended  its 
dominion  in  Upper  Asia,  from  the  northern  de- 
serts of  Scythia,  to  the  Southern  or  Indian 
Ocean.  On  the  west  it  was  separated  by  the 
river  Halys  from  the  dominions  of  Lydia.  The 
river  Indus  formed  its  eastern  boundary.  The 
conquerors  of  the  east  have  assumed,  in  all 
ages,  the  title  of  King  of  Kings ; a title  ex- 
pressive of  the  nature,  as  well  as  of  the  great- 
ness of  their  power.  The  various  provinces 
which  they  conquered,  though  acknowledging 
their  universal  dependence  on  the  emperor, 
were  yet  subject  to  their  particular  princes, 
who,  while  they  paid  their  appointed  tribute 
during  peace,  and  furnished  their  contingent 
of  troops  in  time  of  war,  were  permitted,  in 
their  ancient  territories,  to  retain  the  power,  and 
to  display  the  pomp  of  royalty.  This  system 
of  government  is  more  favourable  to  the  ex- 
tension than  to  the  permanence  of  empire.  The 
different  members  of  this  unwieldly  body  were 
so  feebly  connected  with  each  other,  that  to 
secure  their  united  submission  required  almost 
as  much  genius  as  to  achieve  their  conquest. 
When  the  spirit  which  animated  the  immense 
mass  was  withdrawn,  the  different  parts  fell 
asunder ; revolutions  were  no  less  rapid  than 
frequent;  and,  by  one  of  those  events  familiar 
in  the  history  of  the  east,  the  warlike  sceptre 
of  Ninus  and  Semiramis  was  wrested  from  the 
effeminate  hands  of  Sardanapalus.  In  the 
year  seven  hundred  and  forty-six  before  Christ, 
the  provincial  governors  of  Babylonia  and 
Media,  disdaining  to  receive  orders  from  this 
enervated  shadow  of  their  ancient  lords,  re- 
jected his  contemptible  authority, and  establish- 
ed two  new  dynasties,  which,  having  governed 
Asia  for  two  centuries,  were  again  reunited  by 
the  fortunate  valour  of  Cyrus. 

This  extraordinary  man,  who  raised  the  Per- 
sian glory  on  the  ruins  of  the  Medes  and  Ba- 
bylonians, was  the  son  of  Cambyses,  the  tribu- 
tary prince  of  Persia : on  the  mother’s  side 
he  derived  a more  honourable  descent  from 
Mandana,  daughter  of  Astyages,  the  supreme 
lord  of  Media,  and  many  kingdoms  of  the  east. 
The  powerful  monarchy  erected  by  Cyrus  was 
distinguished  by  the  name  of  his  native  pro- 
vince, as  the  preceding  empires  had  been  de- 
nominated after  the  provinces  of  their  respec- 
tive conquerors,  although  all  of  them,  compre- 
hending the  same  nations,  were  bounded  by 
nearly  the  same  limits,  Cyrus  alone  having  ex- 
tended his  empire  to  the  Grecian  sea. 

The  territory  of  Persia,  to  the  name  of  which 
we  allude,  is  situated  on  the  southern  frontiers 
of  Media,  and  reaches  to  the  Persian  gulf. 
The  mountainous  nature  of  the  country  ren- 
ders it  improper  for  cavalry,  but  it  formerly  pro- 
duced a bold  and  hardy  race  of  men,  who,  un- 
corrupted by  the  effeminacy  of  the  Asiatic 
plains,  required  only  the  directing  genius  of 
a commander  to  conduct  them  to  war  and  vic- 
tory. Such  a commander  they  found  in  Cyrus, 
whose  mind,  bursting  through  the  shackles  im- 
posed on  virtues  and  abilities  by  the  manners 
and  climate  of  the  east,1  extended  the  name 
and  conquests  of  Persia  from  the  Tigris  to  the 

1 See  his  panegyric  in  Xenophon’s  Cyropoedia,  and  in 
iEschylus’s  Persae. 


[Chap, 

Indus,  and  from  the  Caspian  sea  to  the  Ocean, 
a name  which,  after  the  revolution  of  so  many 
ages  and  empires,  is  still  retained  by  that  spa- 
cious region  of  the  earth. 

As  it  is  natural  to  account,  by  extraordinary 
causes,  for  extraordinary  events,  historians  have 
ascribed  institutions  and  customs  to  the  Per- 
sians worthy  of  rendering  them  the  masters  of 
the  world.  The  philosophical  Xenophon,  em- 
bellishing and  disguising  with  wonderful  art 
the  most  admired,  and  the  most  admirable, 
branches  of  Grecian  discipline,  has  bestowed 
them  with  too  lavish  a generosity  on  the  foun- 
ders of  a nation,  who  became  the  unrelenting 
enemies  of  his  country.  But,  notwithstanding 
all  the  refinements  of  his  ingenious  and  well- 
cultivated  invention,  it  is  not  impossible  to  see 
through  the  laboured  artifice  of  the  disguise  ; 
and,  as  truth  only  is  consistent,  we  may  discern 
very  material  contradictions  in  the  only  remain- 
ing accounts  of  the  ancient  manners  of  the 
Persians. 

Their  early  education  consisted,  if  we  may 
credit  both  Xenophon  and  Herodotus,  in  learn- 
ing to  manage  the  horse,  to  shoot  with  the  bow, 
and  to  speak  truth.  Yet  it  is  necessary  to  ob- 
serve that  the  first  of  those  arts,  how  well 
soever  it  might  be  understood  in  later  times  by 
the  Persian  nobility,  must  have  been  very  little 
known  to  their  ancestors  in  the  time  of  Cyrus. 
The  craggy  mountains  which  they  inhabited 
were  unfavourable  to  the  rearing  of  horses,  and 
the  poverty  of  their  circumstances  was  ill 
adapted  to  maintain  them.  While  all  the  other 
nations  of  Upper  Asia,  except  the  Scythians, 
fought  on  horseback,  the  Persian  armies  were 
composed  chiefly  of  infantry : and  when  it  is 
considered,  that  the  Grecians  under  Alexander, 
the  Romans  under  the  republic,  as  well  as  the 
northern  barbarians  who  overran  and  subdued 
the  countries  of  the  east  and  west,  became 
masters  of  the  world  chiefly  through  the  firm 
intrepidity  of  their  infantry,  there  is  reason  to 
assign,  as  the  main  cause  of  the  Persian  con 
quests,  not  their  acquaintance  with  horseman 
ship,  but  rather  their  ignorance  of  that  art 
which  obliged  them  to  employ  the  determined 
valour  of  foot  soldiers  against  the  desultory 
assaults  of  horsemen.  The  Persians  were  com- 
monly armed  with  swords  and  lances,  instead 
of  bows  and  darts,  the  usual  weapons  of  the 
people  of  Asia.  This  distinction  was  occa- 
sioned by  their  want  of  cavalry.  While  their 
neighbours,  trusting  to  the  mettle  and  swiftness 
of  their  steeds,  employed  the  harmless  efforts 
of  distant  hostility,  the  Persians  fought  hand 
to  hand,  each  man  buckling  closely  to  his  foe. 
If  defeated,  they  had  no  means  of  escape  ; but 
it  was  not  to  be  expected  that,  practising  such 
a superior  style  of  war,  unrier  the  conduct  of 
an  accomplished  general,  they  should  ever 
meet  with  a defeat ; and  indeed  Cyrus  always 
proved  victorious  over  the  civilized  nations  of 
Asia ; nor  was  the  career  of  his  triumph  inter- 
rupted, till  contending  against  the  barbarous 
Scythians,  who  joined  the  Persian  arms  and 
discipline  to  their  own  irresistible  fury,  he  lost 
at  once  his  army  and  his  life.2 

2 In  the  history  of  Cyrus,  the  plain  relation  of  Herodotus 
is  to  be  preferred  to  the  moral  embellishments  of  Xenophon 


VII.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


87 


A.  C. 

559—529. 


But  before  experiencing  this  fatal 
reverse  of  fortune,  he  was  destined, 
in  the  course  of  thirty  yeqrs,  to  act 
a distinguished  part  on  the  theatre  of  the  world, 
which  long  retained  the  marks,  and  will  always 
preserve  the  memory,  of  his  reign.  Among  the 
first  conquests  of  Cyrus  were  the  territories  of 
Armenia  and  Chaldea,  which  had  openly  re- 
volted against  established  aufhority.  If  we 
believe  Xenophon,  Cyrus  was  sent  against 
these  rebellious  countries  as  the  lieutenant  of 
his  grandfather  Astyages,  who  from  his  palace 
in  Ecbatan  diffused  his  sovereign  mandates 
over  many  provinces  of  Upper  Asia.  The 
relation  of  Herodotus  makes  it  probable,  that 
Cyrus  had  before  this  time  assumed  the  govern- 
ment of  Media,  over  which  the  cruelty,  injus- 
tice, and  superstitious  fears  of  Astyages,  ren- 
dered him  unworthy  to  reign,  even  in  the 
opinion  of  his  most  trusty  subjects. 


However  that  may  be  (for  it  af- 
fects not  the  design  of  the  present 


Olymp. 

_.q  narrative,)  it  was  natural  to  expect 
' * * that  the  Persian  success  in  Arme- 

nia, a province  situate  so  near  to  the  Lydian 
dominions,  should  alarm  the  fears  of  Croesus, 
and  determine  that  prince  to  resist  the  en- 
croachments of  a power  which  endangered  the 
permanence  of  his  own.  In  taking  this  reso- 
lution, which  might  probably  be  attended  with 
the  most  important  consequences,  he  was  de- 
sirous to  learn  the  will  of  heaven  concerning 
the  issue  of  the  war.  The  principal  oracles 
which  he  consulted  were  those  of  Rranchis  in 
Ionia,  of  Hammon  in  Libya,  and  of  Delphi  in 
Greece.  Among  these  respected  shrines,  the 
oracle  of  Delphi  maintained  its  ascendant,  as 
the  most  faithful  interpreter  of  fate.  Croesus 
was  fully  persuaded  of  its  veracity ; and  desi- 
rous generously  to  compensate  for  the  trouble 
which  he  had  already  given,  and  still  meant  to 
give  the  priests  of  Apollo,  he  sacrificed  three 
thousand  oxen  to  the  god,  and  adorned  his 
shrine  with  dedications,  equally  valuable  for 
the  workmanship  and  for  the  materials ; pre- 
cious vessels  of  silver,  ewers  of  iron  beautifully 
inlaid  and  enamelled ; various  ornaments  of 
pure  gold,  particularly  a golden  lion,  weighing 
ten  talent',  and  a female  figure,  three  cubits,  or 
near  five  feet  high.  In  return  for  these  mag- 
nificent presents,  the  oracle,  in  ambiguous  lan- 
guage, flattered  Croesus,  with  obtaining  an  easy 
victory  over  his  enemies,  and  with  enjoying  a 
long  life  and  a prosperous  reign.  The  god  at 
the  same  time  enjoined  him  to  contract  an  alli- 
ance with  the  most  powerful  of  the  Grecian 
states. 

Elevated  with  these  favourable 
predictions  of  Apollo,  Croesus  pre 
pared  to  yield  a ready  obedience  to 
the  only  condition  required  on  his 
part,  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  aspiring 
purpose.  Not  deeming  himself  sufficiently  ac 
quainted  with  the  affairs  of  Greece,  to  know 
what  particular  republic  was  meant  by  the  ora- 
cle, he  made  particular  inquiry  of  those  best 
informed  concerning  the  state  of  Europe,  and 


Olymp. 
lviii.  1. 

A.  C.  548. 


except  when  the  accounts  of  tho  latter  are  confirmed  by 
the  authority  of  scripture. 


discovered,  that  among  all  the  members  of  tho 
Grecian  confederacy,  the  Athenians  and  Lace- 
daemonians were  justly  entitled  to  the  pre-emi- 
nence. In  order  to  learn  which  of  these  com- 
munities deserved  the  epithet  of  most  powerful, 
it  was  necessary  to  send  ambassadors  into 
Greece.  The  Lydians  dispatched  with  this 
important  commission  soon  discovered  that  the 
Athenians,  after  having  been  long  harassed  by 
internal  dissensions,  were  actually  governed  by 
the  tyrant  Pisistratus.  The  Spartans,  on  the 
other  hand,  though  anciently  the  worst  regu- 
lated of  all  the  Grecian  communities,  had  en- 
joyed domestic  peace  and  foreign  prosperity, 
ever  since  they  had  adopted  the  wise  institu- 
tions of  Lycurgus.  After  that  memorable 
period,  they  had  repeatedly  conquered  the 
warlike  Argives,  triumphed  over  the  hardy 
Arcadians,  and,  notwithstanding  the  heroic  ex- 
ploits of  Aristomenes,  subdued  and  enslaved 
their  unfortunate  rivals  of  Messene.  To  the 
Lydian  ambassadors,  therefore,  the  Spartan  re- 
public appeared  to  be  pointed  out  by  the  oracle, 
as  the  community  whose  alliance  they  were 
enjoined  to  solicit.  Having  repaired  accord- 
ingly to  Sparta,  they  were  introduced  not  only 
to  the  kings  and  senate,  but,  as  the  importance 
of  the  negotiation  required,  to  the  general  as- 
sembly of  the  Lacedaemonians,  to  whom  they, 
in  few  words,  declared  the  object  of  their  com- 
mission: “ We  are  sent,  O Lacedaemonians ! by 
Croesus,  king  of  the  Lydians  and  of  many  other 
nations,  who  being  commanded  by  the  oracle  of 
Apollo  to  seek  the  friendship  of  the  most  pow- 
erful people  of  Greece,  now  summons  you, 
who  justly  merit  that  epithet,  to  become  his 
faithful  allies,  in  obedience  to  the  will  of  the 
god  whose  authority  you  acknowledge.”  The 
Lacedaemonians,  pleased  with  the  alliance  of  a 
warlike  king,  and  still  more  with  the  fame  of 
their  valour,  readily  accepted  the  proposal.  To 
the  strict  connection  of  an  offensive  and  defen- 
sive league,  they  joined  the  more  respected  ties 
of  sacred  hospitality.  A few  years  before  this 
transaction,  they  had  sent  to  purchase  gold  at 
Sardis,  for  making  a statue  of  Apollo.  Crcesus 
had  on  that  occasion  gratuitously  supplied  their 
want.  Remembering  this  generosity,  they  gave 
the  Lydian  ambassadors,  at  their  departure,  as 
a present  for  their  master,  a vessel  of  brass, 
containing  three  hundred  amphoras  (above 
twelve  hogsheads,)  and  beautifully  carved  on 
the  outside  with  various  forms  of  animals. 


Crcesus,  having  thus  happily  accomplished 
the  design  recommended  by  the  oracle,  was 
eager  to  set  out  upon  his  intended  expedition. 
He  had  formerly  entered  into  alliance  with 
Amasis  king  of  Egypt,  and  Labynetus  king  of 
Babylon.  He  had  now  obtained  the  friendship 
of  the  most  warlike  nation  of  Europe.  The 
newly-raised  power  of  Cyrus  and  the  Persians 
seemed  incapable  of  resisting  such  a formidable 
confederacy. 

Elevated  with  these  flattering  ideas  of  his 
own  invincible  greatness,  Crcesus 
waited  not  to  attack  the  Persian  do- 
A C 548  m*n^ons  until  he  had  collected  the 
strength  of  his  allies.  The  sanguine 
impetuosity  of  his  temper,  unexperienced  in 
adversity,  unfortunately  precipitated  him  into 


88 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


measures  no  less  ruinous  than  daring.  Attended 
only  by  the  arms  of  Lydia,  and  a numerous 
band  of  mercenaries,  whom  his  immense  wealth 
enabled  him  at  any  time  to  call  into  his  service, 
he  marched  towards  the  river  Halys,  and  hav- 
ing crossed,  with  much  difficulty,  that  deep  and 
broad  stream,  entered  the  province  of  Cappa- 
docia, which  formed  the  western  frontier  of  the 
Median  dominions.  That  unfortunate  country 
soon  experienced  all  the  calamities  of  invasion. 
The  Pterian  plain,  the  most  beautiful  and  the 
most  fertile  district  of  Cappadocia  was  laid 
waste ; the  ports  of  the  Euxine,  els  well  as 
several  inland  cities,  were  plundered;  and  the 
inoffensive  inhabitants  were  either  put  to  the 
sword,  or  dragged  into  captivity.  Encouraged 
by  the  unresisting  softness  of  the  natives  of 
those  parts,  Croesus  was  eager  to  push  for- 
wards ; and  if  Cyrus  did  not  previously  meet 
him  in  the  field,  he  had  determined  to  proceed 
in  triumph  to  the  mountains  of  Persia.  Against 
this  dangerous  resolution  he  was  in  vain  ex- 
horted by  a Lydian,  named  Sandanis,  who, 
when  asked  his  opinion  of  the  war,  declared  it 
with  that  freedom  which  the  princes  of  the 
Easf  have  in  every  age  permitted,  amidst  all 
the  pride  and  caprices  of  despotic  power,  to  men 
distinguished  by  the  gifts  of  nature  or  educa- 
tion. “You  are  preparing,  O king,  to  march 
against  a people  who  lead  a laborious  and  a 
miserable  life ; whose  daily  subsistence  is  often 
denied  them,  and  is  always  scanty  and  preca- 
rious; who  drink  only  water,  and  who  are 
clothed  with  the  skins  of  wild  beasts.  "What 
can  the  Lydians  gain  by  the  conquest  of  Persia ; 
they  who  enjoy  all  the  advantages  of  which  the 
Persians  are  destitute?  For  my  part,  I deem  it  a 
blessing  of  the  gods,  that  they  have  not  excited 
the  warlike  poverty  of  these  miserable  bar- 
barians to  invade  and  plunder  the  luxurious 
wealth  of  Lydia.”1  The  moderation  of  this 
advice  was  rejected  by  the  fatal  presumption 
of  Croesus,  who  confounding  the  dictates  of  ex- 
perienced wisdom  with  the  mean  suggestions 
of  pusillanimity,  dismissed  the  counsellor  with 
contempt. 

Mean  while,  the  approach  of  Cyrus,  who  was 
not  of  a temper  to  permit  his  dominions  to  be 
ravaged  with  impunity,  afforded  the  Lydian 
king  an  opportunity  of  bringing  the  war  to  a 
more  speedy  issue,  than  by  his  intended  ex- 
pedition into  Persia.  The  army  of  Cyrus 
gradually  augmented  on  his  march,  the  tribu- 
tary princes  cheerfully  contributing  with  their 
united  strength  towards  the  assistance  of  a 
master  whose  valour  and  generosity  they  ad- 
mired, and  who  now  took  arms  to  protect  the 
safety  of  his  subjects,  as  well  as  to  support  the 
grandeur  of  his  throne.  Such  was  the  rapidity 
of  his  movement,  especially  after  being  in- 
formed of  the  destructive  ravages  of  the  enemy 
in  Cappadocia,  that  he  arrived  from  the  shores 
of  the  Caspian  at  those  of  the  Euxine  Sea, 
before  the  army  of  Crcesus  had  provided  the 
necessaries  for  their  journey.  That  prince, 
when  apprised  of  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
Persians,  encamped  on  the  Pterian  plain;  Cy- 
rus likewise  encamped  at  no  great  distance ; 


[Chap. 

frequent  skirmishes  happened  between  the 
light  troops;  and  at  length  a general  engage- 
ment was  fought  with  equal  fury  and  perse- 
verance, and  only  terminated  by  the  darkness 
of  night.  The  loss  on  both  sides  hindered  a 
renewal  of  the  battle.  The  numbers,  as  well 
as  the  courage  of  the  Persians,  much  exceeded 
the  expectation  of  Croesus.  As  they  discovered 
not  any  intention  to  harass  his  retreat,  he  de- 
termined to  move  back  towards  Sardis,  to  spend 
the  winter  in  the  amusements  of  his  palace, 
and  after  summoning  his  numerous  allies  to  his 
standard,  to  take  the  field  early  in  the  spring, 
with  such  an  increase  of  force  els  seemed  suffi- 
cient to  overpower  the  Persians.2 

But  this  design  was  defeated  by  the  careful 
vigilance  of  Cyrus.  That  experienced  leader 
allowed  the  enemy  to  retire  without  molesta- 
tion ; carefully  informing  himself  of  every  step 
which  they  took,  and  of  every  measure  which 
they  seemed  determined  to  pursue.  Patiently 
watching  the  opportunity  of  a j ust  revenge,  he 
waited  until  Croesus  had  re-entered  his  capital, 
and  had  disbanded  the  foreign  mercenaries, 
who  composed  the  most  numerous  division  of 
his  army.  It  then  seemed  the  proper  time  for 
Cyrus  to  put  his  Persians  in  motion;  and  such 
was  his  celerity,  that  he  brought  the  first  news 
of  his  own  arrivsil  in  the  plain  of  Sardis.3 
Croesus,  whose  firmness  might  well  have  been 
shaken  by  the  imminence  of  this  unforeseen 
danger,  was  not  wanting,  on  the  present  occa- 
sion, to  the  duties  which  he  owed  to  his  own 
fame,  and  the  lustre  of  the  Lydism  throne. 
Though  his  mercenaries  were  disbanded,  his 
own  subjects,  who  served  him  from  attachment, 
who  had  been  long  accustomed  to  victory,  and 
who  were  animated  with  a high  sense  of  na- 
tional honour,  burned  with  a desire  of  enjoying 
an  opportunity  to  check  the  daring  insolence  ot 
the  invaders.  Croesus  indulged  and  encouraged 
this  generous  ardour.  The  Lydians,  in  that  age, 
fought  on  horseback,  armed  with  long  spears; 
the  strength  of  the  Persians  consisted  in  infEin- 
try.  They  were  so  little  accustomed  to  the  use 
of  horses,  that  camels  were  almost  the  only 
animals  which  they  employed  as  beasts  of  bur- 
den. This  circumstance  suggested  to  a Mede, 
by  name  Harpagus,  a stratagem,  which,  being 
communicated  to  Cyrus,  wsls  immediately 
adopted  with  approbation  by  that  prince.4 
Harpagus,  having  observed  that  horses  had  a 
strong  aversion  to  the  shape  Eind  smell  of 
camels,  advised  the  Persian  army  to  be  drawn 
up  in  the  following  order: — All  the  camels, 
which  had  been  employed  to  cEirry  baggage 
and  provisions,  were  collected  into  one  body, 
arranged  in  a long  line,  fronting  the  Lydian 
cavalry.  The  foot  soldiers  of  the  Persians  were 
posted  immediately  behind  the  line,  and  placed 
at  a due  distance.  The  Median  horse  (for  a 
few  squadrons  of  these  followed  the  standard 
of  Cyrus)  formed  the  rear  of  the  army.  As  the 
troops  on  both  sides  approached  to  join  battle, 
the  Lydian  cavEdry,  terrified  at  the  unusual 
appeELTELnce  of  the  camels,  mounted  with  men 


2 Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  Ixxvii. 

3 Auto;  ayysA o;  Ksoto-ui  *\>)\u5sv.  “He  came  his  OW'D 
messenger  to  Croesus.” 

4 Herod.  1.  i.  c.  lxxz. 


Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  lxxi. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


89 


VII.] 

in  arms,  were  thrown  into  disorder,  and  turn- 
ing their  heads,  endeavoured  to  escape  from 
the  field.  Croesus,  who  perceived  the  confu- 
sion, was  ready  to  despair  of  his  fortune ; but 
the  Lydians,  abandoning  their  horses,  prepared 
with  uncommon  bravery  to  attack  the  enemy 
on  foot.  Their  courage  deserved  a better  fate  ; 
but  unaccustomed  as  they  were  to  this  mode  of 
fighting,  they  were  received  and  repelled  by 
the  experienced  valour  of  the  Persian  infantry, 
and  obliged  to  take  refuge  within  the  fortified 
strength  of  Sardis,  where  they  imagined  them- 
selves secure.  The  walls  of  that  city  bid  de- 
fiance to  the  rude  art  of  attack,  as  then  prac- 
tised by  the  most  warlike  nations.  If  the  Per- 
sian army  should  invest  it,  the  Lydians  were 
provided  with  provisions  for  several  years ; and 
there  was  reason  to  expect,  that  in  a few 
months,  and  even  weeks,  they  would  receive 
such  assistance  from  Egypt,  Babylonia,  and 
Greece  (to  which  countries  they  had  already 
sent  ambassadors,)  as  would  oblige  theTersians 
to  raise  the  siege.5 

The  Lydian  ministers  dispatched  into  Greece 
met  with  great  sympathy  from  the  Spartans. 
That  people  were  particularly  observant  of  the 
faith  of  treaties ; and  while  they  punished  their 
enemies  with  unexampled  severity,  they  be- 
haved with  generous  compassion  towards  those 
whom  they  had  once  accepted  for  allies.  The 
benevolent  principles  of  their  nature  were  ac- 
tually warmed  and  elevated  by  the  triumph  of 
a successful  expedition  against  the  most  formi- 
dable of  their  domestic  foes.  They  had  main- 
tained a long  and  bloody  war  with  the  Argives, 
for  the  small,  but  valuable  district  of  Thyrea, 
lying  on  the  frontiers  of  the  rival  states.  The 
Spartans  at  length  obtained  possession  of  it ; 
but  the  Argives  advanced  with  an  army  more 
powerful  than  any  that  they  had  ever  led  into 
the  field,  in  order  to  make  good  their  ancient 
pretensions.  The  wars  of  the  Greeks  were  not 
merely  undertaken  from  the  dictates  of  interest 
and  ambition,  but  considered  as  trials  of  skill, 
and  contests  of  honour.  When  a conference, 
therefore,  was  proposed,  we  know  not  by 
which  of  the  parties,  it  was  agreed,  in  order  to 
prevent  a greater  effusion  of  blood,  that  three 
hundred  combatants  on  the  Spartan,  and  an 
equal  number  on  the  Argive  side,  should  de- 
termine, by  the  success  of  their  arms,  the  dis- 
puted title  to  Thyrea,  as  well  as  the  warlike 
pre-eminence  of  their  respective  republics. 
Three  hundred  champions  being  selected  for 
this  purpose  from  either  army,  it  seemed  ne- 
cessary that  the  remainder  of  both  nations 
should  retire  ; for  the  Argive  and  Spartan  citi- 
zens, who  felt  with  a republican  sensibility  for 
the  interest  of  their  communities,  could  not 
have  remained  tame  spectators  of  the  battle. 
The  combatants  fought  with  an  obstinate  va- 
lour, of  which  there  are  few  examples  in  history. 
Each  soldier  behaved  as  if  the  success  of  the 
day  had  been  committed  to  his  single  spear ; 
and  each  was  eager  to  sacrifice  his  own  life  to 
the  preservation  of  his  country’s  fame.  These 
generous  sentiments  were  fully  proved  by  the 
issue  of  the  battle.  At  the  approach  of  night, 


5 Herodot.  1.  1.  c.  lxxx. 

M 


only  three  combatants  survived,  two  Argives, 
and  the  Spartan  Othryades.  The  Argives, 
either  through  neglect  or  pity,  spared  the  life 
of  their  single  opponent,  and  returned  home 
with  the  melancholy  tidings  of  their  bloody 
victory.  Othryades  still  kept  the  field,  collect- 
ing the  spoil,  and  carrying  into  his  own  camp 
the  arms  of  the  enemy,  which  he  erected  into 
the  usual  trophy  of  military  success.  Next  day 
the  two  armies,  consisting  of  a great  proportion 
of  the  citizens  capable  of  bearing  arms,  arrived 
at  the  scene  of  action.  The  surprise  of  the  Ar- 
gives is  not  to  be  expressed,  when  they  saw  the 
appearance  of  the  field.  Notwithstanding  the 
Spartan  trophy,  they  still  insisted,  that  as  two 
of  their  champions,  and  only  one  of  the  ene- 
my’s, had  survived,  they  were  justly  entitled  to 
the  glory  of  the  day ; but,  seemingly  with  more 
reason,  the  Spartans  maintained  that  this  hon- 
our belonged  to  Othryades.  From  verbal  alter- 
cation, carried  on  with  that  warmth  which  the 
importance  of  the  dispute  naturally  inspired, 
they  made  an  easy  transition  to  acts  of  vio- 
lence.6 The  conflict  was  long,  fierce,  and 
bloody ; but  the  superior  discipline  of  Sparta 
finally  prevailed.  The  Argives  lamented  their 
defeat,  as  the  greatest  calamity  that  had  ever 
befallen  them.  The  inward  feelings  of  their 
hearts  were  expressed  by  external  demonstra- 
tions of  sorrow.  Like  most  of  the  Grecian  na- 
tions, they  had  hitherto  adorned  their  long  hair, 
to  increase  the  gracefulness  of  manly  beauty, 
and  to  render  their  appearance  more  terrible  to 
their  enemies.  But  in  remembrance  of  this 
disaster,  they  shaved  their  heads,7  deprived  the 
Argive  women  of  their  golden  ornaments,  and 
bound  themselves  by  a dreadful  imprecation 
never  more  to  assume  their  wonted  appearance, 
until  they  had  recovered  possession  of  Thyrea. 
The  Spartans,  on  the  other  hand,  celebrated 
their  victory  with  the  liveliest  expressions  of 
national  triumph.  Othryades  alone  partook 
not  the  general  joy.  Ashamed  of  returning  to 
Sparta  a solitary  monument  of  three  hundred 
brave  men,  he,  with  a generous  despair,  sacri- 
ficed his  own  life  to  the  manes  of  his  warlike 
companions.  Such  were  the  circumstances  of 
the  Lacedaemonian  republic,  when  the  ambas- 
sadors of  Crmsus  came  to  demand  their  assist- 
ance. The  prosperity  of  their  own  situation 
naturally  heightened,  by  contrast,  the  melan- 
choly condition  of  their  unfortunate  ally,  be- 
sieged, as  they  learned,  in  his  capital,  by  a vic- 
torious army.  They  immediately  resolved  to 
send  him  a speedy  and  effectual  relief ; and  for 
this  purpose  assembled  their  troops,  made 
ready  their  vessels,  and  prepared  every  thing 
necessary  for  the  expedition. 


6 Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  Ixxxii. 

7 At  funerals,  the  Greeks  cut  ofi”  their  hair,  to  be  con- 
sumed in  the  funeral  pile  with  the  bodies  of  their  friends. 
Thus  at  the  interment  of  Patroclus,  Achilles 

Xrosj  ocjrstvsuSs  7rvgt j?  t-sevfiiji/  cctrexeigxTO  %ee«T*)v, 

TqV  £56  ZTTlgX'KD  TTOTCCfij)  T(S$B  TljXs5o!0<rc*V. 

Tn  the  Orestes  of  Euripides,  Helen  is  blamed  for  sparing 
her  locks,  and  cutting  off  only  the  ends.  “ She  is,”  says 
Electra,  “ yvvti,  the  same  coquette  as  ever.”  Ly- 

sias, speaking  of  a grpnt  national  calamity,  says  metaphori- 
cally, “ It  becomes  Greece  to  shave  her  head.”  Lysias, 
Orat.  Funeb.  The  Argives,  as  a community,  realised  the 
metaphor. 


90 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


01  The  valour  of  the  Spartans  might 

lviii  1 perhaps  have  upheld  the  sinking 
\ C 548  emPire  °f  Lydia,  but  before  their 
armament  could  set  sail,  Croesus 
was  no  longer  a sovereign.  Notwithstanding 
the  strength  of  Sardis,  that  city  had  been  taken 
by  storm,  on  the  twentieth  day  of  the  siege ; 
the  walls  having  been  scaled  in  a quarter, 
which,  appearing  altogether  inaccessible,  was 
too  carelessly  guarded.  This  was  effected  by 
the  enterprise  of  Hyreades  a Mede,  who  acci- 
dentally observed  a sentinel  descend  part  of  the 
rock  in  order  to  recover  his  helmet.  Hyreades 
was  a native  of  the  mountainous  province  of 
Mardia,  and  being  accustomed  to  clamber  over 
the  dangerous  precipices  of  his  native  country, 
resolved  to  try  his  activity  in  passing  the  rock 
upon  which  he  had  discovered  the  Lydian. 
The  design  was  more  easily  accomplished  than 
he  had  reason  to  expect ; emulation  and  suc- 
cess encouraged  the  bravest  of  the  Persians  to 
follow  his  example;  these  were  supported  by 
greater  numbers  of  their  countrymen ; the  gar- 
rison of  Sardis  was  surprised ; the  citadel 
stormed  ; and  the  rich  capital  of  lower  Asia 
subjected  to  the  vengeful  rapacity  of  an  indig- 
nant victor.1 

The  Persians  were  accustomed,  like  other 
nations  of  the  ancient  world,  to  exercise 
the  rights  of  conquest,  without  respecting 
the  laws  of  humanity.  Though  they  fought, 
and  conquered,  and  plundered,  only  for  the 
benefit  of  their  prince,  whose  slaves  and  pro- 
perty they  themselves  were,  yet  in  the  first 
emotions  of  military  success  they  discovered  all 
the  eagerness  of  avarice,  and  all  the  fury  of  re- 
sentment ; acting  as  if  they  had  been  called  to 
punish,  not  the  enemies  of  their  king,  but  their 
own  personal  foes;  and  as  if  each  man  had 
been  entitled  to  reap  the  full  fruits  of  his  rapa- 
cious cruelty. 

The  Lydian  prince,  delivered,  as  we  are  told, 
by  an  extraordinary  accident  from  the  blind 
rage  of  the  soldiery,2  seemed  to  be  reserved  for 
a harder  fate.  Dragged  into  the  presence  of 
his  conqueror,  he  was  loaded  with  irons  ; and 
the  stern,  unrelenting  Cyrus,  of  whose  humane 
temper  of  mind  we  have  so  beautiful,  but  so 
flattering  a picture  in  the  philosophical  romance 
of  Xenophon,  ordered  him,  with  the  melancholy 
train  of  his  Lydian  attendants,  to  be  committed 
to  the  flames.  An  immense  pile  of  wood  and 
other  combustibles,  was  erected  in  the  most 
spacious  part  of  the  city.  The  miserable  vic- 
tims bound  hand  and  foot,  were  placed  on  the 
top  of  the  pyre.  Cyrus,  surrounded  by  his 
generals,  witnessed  the  dreadful  spectacle, 
either  from  an  abominable  principle  of  super- 
stition, if  he  had  bound  himself  by  a vow  to 
sacrifice  Crccsus  as  the  first  fruits  of  his  Lydian 
victory,  or  from  a motive  of  curiosity,  equally 
cruel  and  impious,  to  try  whether  Croesus,  who 
had  so  magnificently  adorned  the  temples  and 


1 Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  Ixxxiv. 

2 Herod,  p.  36.  Crcesus  had  a dumb  son,  who  seeing  a 
Persian  rush  against  his  father,  whose  misfortunes  had  ren- 
dered him  careless  of  life,  first  spoke  on  this  occasion : 

AvS turn  r*Yi  xteivs  Kg oierov.  The  learned  in  physiology 
will  decide,  whether  certain  impediments  of  speech  may 

sometimes  bo  conquered  by  the  impetuous  violence  of  some 

strong  passion. 


[Chap, 

enriched  the  ministers  of  the  gods,  would  be 
helped  in  time  of  need  by  the  miraculous  inter- 
position of  his  much  honoured  protectors.3 

Meanwhile  the  unfortunate  Lydian,  oppress- 
ed and  confounded*  by  the  intolerable  weight 
of  his  present  calamity,  compared  with  the  se- 
curity and  splendour  of  his  former  state,  recol- 
lected his  memorable  conversation  with  the 
Athenian  sage,  and  uttered  with  a deep  groan 
the  name  of  Solon.  Cyrus  asked  by  an  inter- 
preter, “ Whose  name  he  invoked  ?”  “ His,” 
replied  Crcesus,  emboldened  by  the  prospect  of 
certain  death,  “ whose  words  ought  ever  to 
speak  to  the  heart  of  kings.”  This  reply  not 
being  satisfactory,  he  was  commanded  to  ex- 
plain at  full  length  the  subject  of  his  thoughts. 
Accordingly  he  related  the  important  discourse 
which  had  passed  between  himself  and  the 
Athenian,  of  which  it  was  the  great  moral,  that 
no  man  could  be  called  happy  till  his  death.4 

The  words  of  a dying  man  are  fitted  to  make 
a strong  impression  on  the  heart.  Those  of 
Crcesus  deeply  affected  the  mind  of  Cyrus. 
The  Persian  considered  the  speech  of  Solon 
as  addressed  to  himself.  He  repented  of  his  in- 
tended cruelty  towards  an  unfortunate  prince, 
who  had  formerly  enjoyed  all  the  pomp  of  pros- 
perity ; and  dreading  the  concealed  vengeance 
that  might  lurk  in  the  bosom  of  fate,  gave 
orders  that  the  pyre  should  be  extinguished. 
But  the  workmen  who  had  been  employed  to 
prepare  it,  had  performed  their  task  with  so 
much  care,  that  the  order  could  not  speedily 
be  obeyed.  At  that  moment,  Crcesus  calling 
on  Apollo,  whose  favourite  shrine. of  Delphi 
had  experienced  his  generous  munificence,  and 
whose  perfidious  oracle  had  made  him  so  un- 
grateful a return,  the  god,  it  is  said,  sent  a 
plentiful  shower  to  extinguish  the  pyre.  This 
event,  which  saved  the  life,  and  which  suffi- 
ciently attested  the  piety  of  Crcesus,  strongly 
recommended  him  to  the  credulity  of  his  con- 
queror. It  seemed  impossible  to  pay  too  much 
respect  to  a man  who  was  evidently  the  favour- 
ite of  heaven.  Cyrus  gave  orders  that  he 
should  be  seated  by  his  side,  and  thenceforth 
treated  as  a king;  a revolution  of  fortune 
equally  sudden  and  unexpected.  But  the  mind 
of  Crcesus  had  undergone  a still  more  impor- 
tant revolution;  for,  tutored  in  the  useful 
school  of  adversity,  he  learned  to  think  with 
patience,  and  to  act  with  prudence  ; to  govern 
his  own  passions  by  the  dictates  of  reason,  and 
to  repay  by  wholesome  advice  the  generous 
behaviour  of  his  Persian  master.5 

The  first  advantage  which  he  derived  from 
the  change  in  Cyrus’s  disposition  towards  him, 
was  the  permission  of  sending  his  fetters  to  the 
temple  of  Delphian  Apollo,  whose  flattering 
oracles  had  encouraged  him  to  wage  war  with 
the  Persians.  “Behold,”  were  his  messengers 
instructed  to  say,  “the  trophies  of  our  promised 
success ! behold  the  monuments  of  the  uner- 
ring veracity  of  the  god !”  The  Pythia  heard 
their  reproach  with  a smile  of  contemptuous 
indignation,  and  answered  it  with  that  solemn 
gravity  which  she  was  so  carefully  taught  to 


3 Idem.  1.  i.  c.  Ixxxvi.  4 See  p.  85. 

5 Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  lxxxix. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


91 


VIII.]  • 

assume  : “ The  gods  themselves  cannot  avoid 
their  own  destiny,  much  less  avert,  however 
they  may  retard,  the  determined  fates  of  men. 
Croesus,  has  suffered,  and  justly  suffered,  for 
the  crime  of  his  ancestor  Gyges,  who,  entrust- 
ed, as  chief  of  the  guards,  with  the  person  of 
Candaules,  the  last  king  of  the  race  of  Hercu- 
les, was  seduced  by  an  impious  woman  to  mur- 
der his  master,  to  defile  his  bed,  and  to  usurp 
his  royal  dignity.  For  this  complicated  guilt 
°f  Gyges  the  misfortunes  of  Croesus  have 
atoned ; but  know,  that,  through  the  favour  of 


Apollo,  these  misfortunes  have  happened  three 
years  later  than  the  fates  ordained.”6  The 
Pythia  then  proceeded  to  explain  her  answers 
concerning  the  event  of  the  war  against  Cyrus, 
and  proved,  to  the  conviction  of  the  Lydians, 
that  her  words, if  properly  understood,  portend- 
ed destruction,  not  of  the  Persians,  but  of  the 
Lydian  empire.  Croesus  heard  with  resigna- 
tion the  report  of  his  messengers,  and  acknow- 
ledged the  justice  of  the  Delphian  oracle,  which 
maintained  and  increased  the  lustre  of  its  an- 
cient fame. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Cyrus  threatens  the  Asiatic  Colonies — Their  Measures — The  Spartans  remonstrate  against  his 
Design — Conquests  of  Harpagus — Migrations  of  the  vanquished  Greeks — Cyrus  takes  Babylon 
— Cambyses  subdues  Egypt — Receives  tribute  from  the  African  Greeks — Reign  of  Darius — 
Final  settlement  of  the  Persian  Empire — Degeneracy  of  Manners — Revolt  of  Ionia — State  of 
Greece — The  Ionian  Revolt  abetted  by  the  Athenians  and  Eretrians — Who  burn  Sardis — The 
Asiatic  Greeks  defeated  by  sea  and  land — Their  condition  under  the  Persian  Government. 


TOURING  the  reign  of  Croesus,  and  his  four 
warlike  predecessors,  the  Asiatic  Greeks 
sometimes  enjoyed  their  favourite  form  of  re- 
publican government,  sometimes  submitted  to 
domestic  tyrants,  alternately  recovered  and  lost 
their  national  independence.  The 
lviii  2 success  of  the  ambitious  Cyrus  was 
A C 547  no*'  ^ely  to  improve  the  condition 
of  the  Ionian’s,  who,  during  the  de- 
pendence of  his  fortune,  had  repeatedly  ne- 
glected opportunities  to  deserve  his  gratitude. 
Before  invading  Lower  Asia,  he  earnestly  en- 
treated them  to  share  the  glory  of  his  arms  ; 
but  they  preferred  dieir  allegiance  to  Croesus, 
before  the  friendship  of  a less  known,  and  per- 
haps severer,  tyrant.  When  the  fortune  of 
war,  or  rather  the  superiority  of  his  own  ge- 
nius, had  given  Cyrus  possession  of  all  the 
neighbouring  provinces,  the  Ionians  were  for- 
ward to  declare,  by  embassy,  their  acceptance 
of  his  proffered  alliance ; or,  if  that  should 
now  be  refused,  to  request  his  protection  on  the 
same  terms  required  by  his  Lydian  predecessor. 
This  submissive  proposal  only  inflamed  the 
ambition  of  the  Persian ; and  his  celebrated 
answer,7  on  this  occasion,  clearly  announced  to 
the  Greeks,  that  if  they  would  escape  the  rigour 
of  servitude,  they  must  owe  their  safety  to  the 
strenuous  exertions  of  a brave  defence,  not  to 
the  clemency  of  Cyrus. 

When  his  hostile  intentions  were  made 
known  in  Ionia,  the  inhabitants  of  that  delight- 
ful country  assembled  in  the  Panionian  grove, 
their  ordinary  rendezvous  in  general  and  im- 
portant deliberations.  This  place,  which,  to- 
gether with  the  adjoining  promontory  of  My- 

6 Idem.  I.  i.  c.  xci.  et  seq. 

7 After  the  oriental  fashion,  he  answered  them  by  an 
apologue.  A piper  seeing  a great  swarm  of  fishes  in  the 
sea,  began  to  play,  in  order  to  allure  them  to  land.  But  as 
they  disregarded  his  music,  he  employed  a net  with  better 
success.  When  caught,  the  fishes  jumped  about  in  the 
net.  But  he  told  them,  “ It  is  unnecessary  now  to  dance, 

since  I have  ceased  to  play.”  Hcrodot.  1.  i c.  cxli. 


cale,  was  solemnly  consecrated  to  Neptune, 
formed  the  centre  of  the  Ionic  coast.  Towards 
the  north  extended  the  spacious  bay  of  Ephe- 
sus, beyond  which  the  beautiful  peninsula  of 
Clazomene  stretched  a hundred  miles  into  the 
iEgean.  On  the  south,  the  territory  of  Miletus 
occupied  sixty-two  miles  of  the  winding  shore. 
But  the  Milesians  sent  not  their  deputies  to  the 
present  convention ; for  having  been  the  con- 
federates, not  the  subjects  of  Croesus,  they  were 
admitted  into  the  Persian  alliance  on  terms  off 
equality  and  independence.  The  Grecian  in* 
terest  in  Asia,  thus  ungenerously  abandoned  by 
the  principal  member  of  the  confederacy,  was 
supported  with  usual  spirit  and  unanimity  by 
all  the  inferior  communities.  Representatives 
immediately  appeared  from  Myus  and  Priene, 
which  were  situate,  like  Miletus,  on  the  coast 
of  Caria ; from  Ephesus,  Colophon,  Lebedus, 
Teos,  Clazomene,  Erythne,  Phocaea,  and 
Smyrna,  which  formed  the  maritime  part  of 
Lydia;  and  from  the  isles  of  Chios  and  Samos, 
which  completed  the  whole  number  of  the  Ionic 
settlements. 

Meanwhile  the  Eolians,  alarmed  by  the  same 
danger,  convened  in  their  ancient  capital  of 
Cyme.  Their  inferior  towns  were  Larissa, 
Neontichus,  Tenus,  Cilia,  Notion,  iEginocessa, 
Pitane,  iEgoea,  Myrina,  and  Greneia.  Their 
territory  was  more  extensive  and  more  fertile 
than  that  of  their  Ionian  rivals,  but  their  cli- 
mate less  temperate,8  their  harbours  less  com- 
modious, and  their  cities  far  less  considerable  in 
power  and  fame. 


8  Herodotus’s  encomium  on  the  climate  of  Ionia  is  re- 
markable: Oi  Ss  Iuiveg  ouroi,  tcov  to  llxviaivtov  tm 
too  fitu  ovgxvov,xc ei  tcov  ovg «ujv,sv  to*  xotAAio-Tco  $Tvy%xvov 

iSgVITXfttV Oi  5T0X.SXJ,  7TXVTV1V  Xv8  g W0TU1V  TCOV  >)it Itif  iS/UlVZ 

“ These  Ionians,  to  whom  Panionium  belongs,  hnvo  built 
cities  in  the  finest  climate,  and  in  the  most  beautiful  situa- 
tions, of  all  men  whom  wo  know.”  He  then  proceeds  to 
observe,  that  the  countries  on  all  9ides  lof  Ionia  were  op- 
pressed by  cold  and  humidity  on  the  one  hand,  or  heat  and 
drought  on  the  other.  Herod.  1.  i.  c.  cxlii. 


92 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


It  may  seem  extraordinary  that  the  Dorians, 
especially  those  inhabiting  the  peninsula  of 
Caria,  who  were  likewise  destined  to  feel  the 
Persian  power,  should  not  have  joined  in  mea- 
sures necessary  for  the  common  defence.  But 
this  circumstance  it  is  still  possible  to  explain. 
Of  the  six  Doric  republics,  who  annually  as- 
sembled at  Triopium  to  celebrate  the  festival 
of  Apollo,1  four  were  encouraged,  by  their  in- 
sular situation,  to  contemn  the  threats  of  Cyrus. 
Cnidus,  as  will  appear  hereafter,  hoped  to  de- 
rive from  art  the  same  advantages  which  its 
confederates,  Cos,  Lindus,  Jalissus,  and  Cami- 
rus,  enjoyed  by  nature.  And  Halicarnassus, 
the  sixth  Dorian  state,  as  we  are  informed  with 
a laudable  impartiality,  by  a native  of  that  city, 
had  been  recently  excluded  from  the  Triopian 
festival.  This  disgrace  was  occasioned  by  the 
sordid  avarice  of  Agasicles  the  Halicarnassian, 
who  having  conquered  in  the  Triopian  games, 
carried  away  the  tripod,  which  was  the  prize 
of  his  victory ; whereas,  according  to  an  es- 
tablished rule,  he  ought  to  have  consecrated  it 
in  the  temple  of  Apollo.  His  sacrilege  de- 
prived his  country  of  the  common  benefits  of 
the  Dorian  name.2 

To  enliven  the  dryness  of  geographical  de- 
scription, essential,  however,  to  the  perspicuity 
of  the  present  narrative,  we  should  in  vain 
turn  our  thoughts  to  the  actual  condition  of 
the  Asiatic  shore.  Few  vestiges  remain  of  the 
Doric  and  Eolic  cities ; and  even  the  Ionic, 
which  far  surpassed  them  in  magnificence  and 
splendour,  can  scarcely  be  recognized  by  the 
learned  and  curious  traveller.  Nothing  now 
remains  but  the  indelible  impressions  of  nature ; 
the  wprks  of  men  have  perished  with  them- 
selves. The  physical  advantages  of  Lower 
Asia  continue  nearly3  the  same  now,  as  two 
thousand  years  ago ; but  the  moral  condition 
of  that  country,  compared  to  what  it  once  was, 
is  the  silent  obscurity  of  the  grave,  contrasted 
with  the  vivid  lustre  of  active  life. 

The  Asiatic  Greeks,  having  examined  the 
state  of  their  affairs,  were  fully  sensible  of  their 
own  weakness,  compared  with  the  strength  of 
the  enemy.  In  forming  their  establishments 
in  Asia,  they  had  confined  themselves  to  a long 
and  narrow  line  on  the  coast,  look- 
"*  ing  with  a wishful  eye  towards  the 
A C 540  mother-countryi  from  which,  in 
every  calamity,  they  expected  as- 
sistance and  protection.  The  result,  therefore, 
of  the  present  deliberation  was  to  send  an  em- 
bassy into  Greece,  in  order  to  explain  the  dan- 
ger to  which  they  were  exposed,  and  to  show 
the  necessity  of  powerful  and  timely  aid.  It 
might  have  been  expected  that  Attica,  the  na- 
tive country  of  the  Ionians,  should  have  re- 
ceived the  first  visit  of  the  ambassadors ; but 
Athens  was  then  governed  by  the  tyrant  Pisis- 
tratus,  who,  it  was  supposed,  would  be  averse 
to  take  arms  against  a tyrant  like  himself. 
Sparta,  though  a republic  of  greater  power  and 
renown,  was  little  connected,  either  by  com- 

1 Three  in  the  isle  of  Rhodes,  one  in  Cos. 

2 Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  cxliv. 

3 The  changes  in  the  face  of  the  country,  produced 

chiefly  by  the  receding  of  the  sea,  may  be  seen  in  the  splen- 

did work  of  Mons.  Choiseuil  Gouflicr,  Lo  Voyage  pittores- 

que  do  la  Greece,  &c. 


[Ch^p. 

merce  or  affinity,  with  the  Greeks  of  Asia. 
The  proposals  of  the  Asiatic  ambassadors,  there- 
fore, were  very  coolly  received  by  the  Spartan 
senate.  On  such  occasions,  however,  it  was 
customary  to  take  the  opinions  also  of  the 
people.  In  the  assembly  convened  for  this 
purpose,  Pythermus,  a Phocaean,  clothed  with 
purple,  as  a mark  of  his  consideration  in  his 
native  country,  spoke  for  himself  and  his  col- 
leagues. But  the  beauties  of  his  Ionic  dialect 
were  unable  to  move  the  resolution  of  the  La- 
ceda3monians,  who,  mindful  of  the  ancient  en 
mity  between  the  Ionic  and  the  Doric  race, 
declined  sending  any  forces  into  Asia,  to  resist 
the  arms  of  Cyrus.  Though  their  generosity 
furnished  no  public  assistance,  their  caution 
privately  dispatched  several  Spartan  citizens 
to  observe  the  operations  of  the  war.  When 
these  men  arrived  in  Ionia, they  were  easily  per 
suaded  to  exceed  the  bounds  of  their  commis 
sion.  They  appointed  Lacrines,  the  most  con 
siderable  of  their  number,  to  travel  to  the 
Lydian  capital,  in  order  to  acquaint  Cyrus, 
that  if  he  committed  hostilities  against  any  of 
the  Grecian  cities,  the  Lacedaemonian  republic 
would  know  how  to  punish  his  injustice. 
Cyrus,  astonished  at  such  an  insolent  message 
from  a people  altogether  unknown  to  him, 
asked  the  Greeks  present  (for  there  was  al- 
ways a great  number  of  Grecian  fugitives  in 
the  armies  of  their  neighbours,)  who  the  La 
cedaemonians  were  ?4  and  what  number  of  men 
they  could  bring  into  the  field  ? When  in 
formed  of  these  particulars,  he  replied  to  the 
Spartan  ambassador,  “ That  he  never  should 
fear  men  who  had  a square  in  the  midst  of 
their  city,  in  which  they  met  together  to  prac- 
tise mutual  falsehood  and  deception;5  and  that 
if  he  continued  to  enjoy  the  blessings  of  health, 
he  hoped  to  afford  the  Spartans  more  domestic 
reasons  of  complaint,  than  his  military  prepa- 
rations against  the  Greeks  of  Asia.” 
q.  The  interview  with  Lacrines 

lx  ^ happened  among  the  last  public 

A*  C cqq  transactions  during  Cyrus’s  resi- 
* dence  at  Sardis.  Having  reduced 
Croesus  into  captivity,  the  only  enemy  in  those 
parts  who  seemed  worthy  of  his  arms,  he  was 
eager  to  return  towards  the  East,  in  order  to 
complete  his  conquests  in  Upper  Asia.  The 
Grecians  he  knew  to  be  a warlike  people  ; but 
as  their  numbers  were  inconsiderable,  their 
cities  small,  and  ill  fortified,  he  thought  proper 
to  attempt  in  person  enterprises  of  greater  re- 
nown, and  to  commit  the  Grecian  war  to  the 
skill  of  his  lieutenant,  Harpagus.6 

In  the  course  of  a few  months,  this  general 
made  himself  master  of  all  the  countries  of 
Lower  Asia,  possessed  by  either  Greeks  or 
Barbarians.  Having  the  command  of  men 
and  labour,  he  caused  mounds  of  earth  to  be 
thrown  up,  adjacent  to  the  Grecian  walls.  In 


4 Herodotus  leaves  it  uncertain  whether  this  ignorance 
was  not  affected,  the  better  to  mark  his  contempt. 

5 Cyrus  alludes  to  the  market-places,  or  public  squares, 
common  in  all  Grecian  cities,  with  the  use  of  which  the 
Asiatics  were  totally  unacquainted,  “ being  destitute,”  as 
Herodotus  says,  “of  all  places  of  public  resort.” 

G His  predecessor,  Mazares,  died  almost  immediately 
after  he  had  taken  Prien6  and  Magnesia,  and  sold  the  in- 
habitants for  slaves.  Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  lxi. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


93 


VIII.] 

this  service,  immense  numbers  must  have 
perished  by  the  darts  of  the  enemy ; but  the 
work  was  no  sooner  completed,  than  the  Per- 
sians, running  up  the  mounds,  got  possession 
of  the  walls,  drove  the  Greeks  from  their  bat- 
tlements, overpowered  them  from  their  own 
fortifications,  entered,  and  sacked  their  towns.7 

When  we  consider  the  fury  with 
y™P-  which  the  wars  of  the  ancients 


lx.  2. 

A.  C.  539. 


were  carried  on,  and  reflect,  that 
the  immediate  consequences  of  a 
defeat  were  servitude  or  death,  we  have  reason 
to  believe  that  the  Greeks  would  make  a reso- 
lute and  bloody  defence.  This  indeed  suf- 
ficiently appears,  by  the  evidence  of  a few 
scattered  facts  preserved  in  history.  The  first 
place  which  Harpagus  attacked  was  the  cele- 
brated capital  of  the  Phocseans,  the  most 
northern  city  of  Ionia.  The  inhabitants,  as 
already  mentioned,  were  famous  for  their  long 
and  successful  navigations,  in  the  course  of 
which  they  had  often  visited  the  coasts  of 
Spain,  the  Mexico  and  Peru  of  the  ancient 
world.  The  money  derived  from  that  country 
had  enabled  them  to  build  the  best  fortification 
that  was  to  be  seen  in  all  those  parts ; yet  they 
entertained  not  any  hopes  of  resisting  the  Per- 
sian invaders.  Such,  however,  was  their  love 
of  liberty,  and  their  dread  of  seeing  in  their 
streets  the  army  of  a conqueror,  that  they  re- 
solved on  a measure  which  has  been  often  pro- 
posed, but  seldom  executed.  When  Harpagus 
sent  them  his  commands,  they  begged  the  fa- 
vour of  a day’s  pause  for  deliberation.  In  all 
probability  they  had  already  taken  many  ne- 
cessary measures  for  effecting  their  escape  ; for 
during  that  short  interval,  their  ships  were  pre- 
pared, their  money  and  goods  put  on  board, 
their  wives  and  families  embarked,  and  the 
whole  community  was  floating  on  the  waves, 
when  the  Persians  arrived  to  take  possession 
of  desolated  dwellings  and  empty  walls.  The 
advantageous  situation  of  Phocaea,  and  the 
pains  which  had  been  taken  to  improve  and  to 
embellish  it,  make  this  resolution  appear  the 
more  extraordinary ; if  any  thing,  at  least,  can 
add  to  the  wonder,  that  a whole  people  should 
unanimously  abandon  their  temples,  their  altars, 
and  what  in  ancient  times  seemed  not  less  sa- 
cred, the  tombs  of  their  ancestors ; should  to- 
tally divest  themselves  of  every  right  to  a coun- 
try which  they  had  been  accustomed  to  call 
their  own ; and  set  sail  with  their  wives  and 
children,  ignorant  whither  to  direct  their  course, 
or  in  what  friendly  port  they  might  expect  pro- 
tection or  repose.8 

The  Phocaean  fleet,  consisting  of  more  than 
two  hundred  sail,  made  for  the  isle  of  Chios, 
which,  of  all  the  Ionic  settlements,  seemed 
most  secure  against  the  Persian  arms.  Having 
arrived  there,  they  endeavoured  to  purchase 
from  the  Chians  the  small  Oenussian  islands: 
but  the  Chians,  jealous  of  their  commerce,  and 
knowing  the  adventurous  spirit  of  the  fugitives, 
denied  their  request.  The  Phocaeans,  thus 
cruelly  rejected  by  men  of  the  same  race  and 
language  with  themselves,  set  sail  on  a much 
longer  voyage,  for  the  isle  of  Cynus,  or  Corsica, 


7 Herodot.  lib.  i cap.  clxii,  clxiii,  et  geq. 

8 Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  clxiv. 


where,  about  twenty  years  before,  they  had 
formed  a small  establishment.  As  they  coasted, 
in  the  night,  along  the  solitary  shore  of  then 
ancient  city,  a few  ships,  manned  with  enter- 
prising crews,  landed  in  the  harbour,  surprised 
the  Persian  garrison,  and  put  every  man  to  the 
sword.  After  applauding  this  memorable  act 
of  revenge,  the  whole  fleet,  transported  with 
fury  against  the  Persians,  bound  themselves  by 
mutual  oaths  never  to  return  to  Phocaea,  until 
a burning  ball  of  iron,  which  they  threw  into 
the  sea,  should  again  emerge  unextinguished.9 
Yet  such  is  the  powerful  attachment  of  men  to 
their  ancient  habitations,  that  in  a few  hours, 
more  than  one  half  the  fleet,  unable  to  resist 
the  alluring  prospect  of  their  native  shore,  dis- 
regarded their  oaths,  and  sailed  for  the  well- 
known  harbour.  The  destruction  of  the  Per- 
sian garrison  removed  the  only  obstacle  in  the 
way  of  immediate  possession ; and  the  blame  of 
this  massacre  might  be  thrown  on  their  coun- 
trymen who  fled,  while  those  who  returned  to 
Phocaea  might  prove  their  innocence,  by  speed- 
ily submitting  to  every  burden  imposed  on 
them.  Mean  while,  the  best  and  bravest  portion 
of  the  Phocaean  republic  arrived  with  safety  at 
the  island  of  Corsica;  where,  their  subsequent 
adventures  not  being  immediately  connected 
with  our  present  subject,  will  merit  attention 
in  another  part  of  this  history.10 

The  Phocaeans  were  not  the  only  people  of 
Asiatic  Greece  who  deserted  their  country, 
rather  than  abandon  their  liberty.  The  Teians 
who  inhabited  the  southern  shore  of  the  Ionic 
peninsula,  had  not  yet  been  softened  into  cow- 
ardice by  the  effeminate  muse  of  Anacreon. 
They  followed  the  generous  example  which 
the  inhabitants  of  Phocaea  had  set ; forsook  a 
city  in  which  they  could  no  longer 
jx  ^2  ***  remain  free,  and  sought  refuge  in 
A ' C Abdera,  an  ancient  colony  of  Cla- 

zomene,  on  the  coast  of  Thrace, 
and  near  the  mouth  of  the  river  Nessus.* 11  The 
city  of  Clazomene,  now  mentioned,  was  built 
on  the  continent ; but  on  the  present  occasion, 
the  inhabitants,  to  avoid  slavery,  settled  in 
eight  small  islands,  at  a little  distance  from  the 
shore,  on  which  they  founded  a new  city,  the 
model  of  that  of  Venice.  The  advantage  which 
the  Clazorftenians  enjoyed  by  nature,  the  Cni- 
dians  endeavoured  to  procure  by  art.  They 
occupied  the  extremity  of  the  Carian  penin- 
sula; and  their  city  being  joined  to  the  conti- 
nent by  an  isthmus  of  only  half  a mile  broad, 
they  attempted,  by  means  of  a ditch,  to  detach 
themselves  entirely  from  the  main  land.  If 
this  could  be  effected,  they  might  despise  the 
power  of  their  enemies,  who  not  having  as  yet 
subdued  the  Phoenicians,  possessed  not  any 
naval  force  sufficient  to  conquer  the  Grecian 
isles.  But  the  approach  of  the  Persians,  and 
still  more  their  own  superstitious  fears,  inter- 
rupted this  useful  undertaking;  and  the  city 
of  Cnidas,  as  well  as  all  others  on  the  Asiatic 
coast,  Miletus  alone  excepted,  were  reduced 
to  unconditional  submission  under  the  Persian 
yoke. 


9 Idem,  1.  i.  c.  clxv. 

10  Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  clxv. 

11  Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  lxviii.  et  c.  clxviii. 


94 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Ql  While  the  arms  of  Harpagus  were 

**  thus  successful  on  the  western 
A."  C 539  s^orei  those  of  Cyrus  acquired  still 
greater  glory  in  the  central  parts 
of  Asia.1  With  amazing  rapidity  his  victori- 
ous troops  over-ran  the  rich  countries  between 
the  Mediterranean  and  the  Tigris.  Every  thing 
gave  way  before  their  valour  and  their  fortune. 
The  city  of  Babylon  alone,  the  ancient  and 
proud  capital  of  the  Assyrian  empire,  opposed 
its  lofty  and  impenetrable  walls  to  the  ambi- 
tion of  the  conqueror.  When  all  the  countries 
round  were  reduced  into  obedience,  it  might 
seem  absurd  in  the  inhabitants  of  one  place  to 
think  of  resisting  the  Persian  arms.  But  when 
we  consider  the  singular  resources  of  this  place, 
we  shall  perceive,  that  a design  which  would 
have  been  obstinate  folly  in  any  other  citizens, 
was  no  more  than  proper  firmness  in  the  Baby- 
lonians. Their  capital,  which  was  celebrated 
for  its  magnificence,  wealth,  and  magnitude, 
when  nothing  deserving  the  name  of  capital 
existed  elsewhere  in  the  world,  was  situated  in 
a spacious  plain,  surrounded  on  all  sides  by 
broad  and  rapid  rivers.  The  outward  wall 
was  of  a firm  quadrangular  form,  three  hundred 
feet  high,  seventy-five  broad,  extending  sixty 
miles  in  circumference,  and  surrounded  by  a 
deep  ditch,  continually  supplied  with  water. 
Behind  this  extraordinary  bulwark,  of  whose 
existence  the  wall  of  China  and  the  pyramids 
of  Egypt  can  alone  serve  to  convince  modern 
incredulity,  was  another  of  almost  equal  di- 
mensions ; and  besides  both  these  .general  for- 
tifications, each  division  of  the  city  had  its 
appropriated  mounds  and  defences.  It  is  un- 
necessary to  describe  the  towers,  temples,  and 
gardens,  which  by  their  singular  greatness  evi- 
dently announced  the  seat  of  a mighty  empire. 
These  magnificent  monuments  tended,  indeed, 
to  adorn,  but  others,  less  splendid,  served  to 
defend  Babylon.2  These  were  magazines  of 
corn  and  provisions,  capable  of  maintaining 
the  inhabitants  for  twenty  years ; and  arsenals, 
which  supplied  with  arms  such  a number  of 
fighting  men  as  seemed  equal  to  the  conquest 
or  defence  of  a powerful  monarchy.  It  was  to 
be  expected  that  Babylon  would  exert  its  ut- 
most strength,  being  then  governed  by  Laby- 
netus,  or  Belthazar,  whose  despotism,  injustice, 
and  impiety,  exceeded  even  the  crimes  of  his 
father  Nebuchadnezzar,  and  left  him  no  room 
to  expect  forgiveness  from  the  clemency  of 
Cyrus. 

Olvmn  During  two  years  Cyrus  blocked 

jx  2 up  the  city,  without  attaining  any 

A C 538  nearer  ProsPect  of  success  than 
when  he  first  approached  its  walls. 
The  events  of  this  memorable  siege  are  not 
related  by  ancient  writers.  We  only  know, 
that  the  efforts  of  the  Persians  proved  fruitless, 
until  strength  was  directed  by  stratagem.  The 
river  Euphrates  entered,  by  a deep  channel,  the 
northern  walls  of  Babylon,  and  issuing  forth 
from  the  opposite  side,  almost  equally  bisected 


1 Xenophon’s  Cyropacdia,  and  Herodotus,  contain  the 
materials  for  the  reign  of  Cvrus,  as  far  as  it  is  connected 
with  the  history  of  Greece.  It  is  foreign  to  the  subject  of 
the  present  work,  to  examine  the  differences  between  these 
authors. 

2 Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  clxxix.  et  seq. 


[Chap. 

the  city.  Of  this  circumstance  Cyrus  availed 
himself  to  become  master  of  the  place.  He 
employed  his  numerous  army  in  digging  a pro- 
found cavern  adjacent  to  the  lofty  mound  which 
confined  the  course  of  the  river.  This  work 
being  completed,  he  patiently  waited  an  oppor- 
tunity for  cutting  the  mound,  and  thus  turning 
the  waters  of  the  Euphrates  into  the  prepared 
cavern;  since,  if  this  could  be  done  without 
being  perceived  by  the  enemy,  his  troops,  sta- 
tioned at  the  two  passages  of  the  Euphrates,  in 
and  out  of  the  city,  might  enter  Babylon  by  the 
channel  which  the  river  had  abandoned.  This 
design  was  happily  executed,  when  the  Baby- 
lonians, who  had  long  despised  the  impotent 
efforts  of  the  besiegers,  were  employed  in  cele- 
brating a festival  with  every  circumstance  of 
the  most  licentious  security.  The  mound  of 
the  Euphrates  being  divided,  the  highest  waters 
deserted  their  channel,  the  river  became  forda- 
ble, and  the  troops  of  Cyrus,  who,  had  not  the 
Babylonians  been  sunk  in  riot  and  debauchery 
might  have  been  confined  uuthin  the  walls,  and 
overwhelmed  by  darts  from  the  battlements, 
made  their  entrance  unperceived  into  the  place ; 
cut  to  pieces  the  unarmed  inhabitants;  and 
having  punished  an  impious  king  and  his 
voluptuous  courtiers,  took  possession  of  the 
greatest  and  richest  city  of  thd  ancient  world.3 

This  memorable  event  rendered 
lxii  4^*  Cyrus  sole  master  of  those  valuable 
A r*  countries  around  the  Tigris  and 

* ' ~ * Euphrates,  which,  from  time  im- 

memorial, had  been  the  seat  of  despotism  and 
luxury,  wealth  and  wickedness.  The  active 
ambition  of  this  great  prince  was  adopted  by 
the  emulation  of  his  immediate  successors, 
p..  His  son  Cambyses  received  the  sub- 

lxiv  1 mission  of  Tyre  and  Cyprus,  and 
\ C 524  e^"ecte(^  t^ie  imP°rtant  conquest  of 
Egypt,  in  the  consequences  of 
which  the  Greek  colonies  in  that  country,  and 
on  the  adjoining  coast  of  Africa,  were  involved. 

In  the  eighth  century  before  the  Christian 
era,  the  adventurous  colonies  in  Ionia  and 
Caria  had,  amidst  other  commercial,  or  rather 
piratical  expeditions,  undertaken  a voyage  to 
Egypt.  Their  brazen  armour,4  their  courage, 
and  their  activity,  were  beheld  with  amazement 
and  terror  by  the  Egyptians,  then  divided  by 
faction,  and  torn  by  sedition.  Psammetichus, 
one  of  the  many  pretenders  to  the  throne,  en- 
gaged the  Greeks  in  his  service.  Through 
their  valour  and  discipline  he  became  master 
of  Egypt.  His  rewards  and  promises  prevailed 
on  them  to  settle  in  that  country.  They  up- 
held the  throne  of  his  successors,  until  Apries, 
the  fourth  in  descent  from  Psammetichus,  hav- 
ing undertaken  an  unfortunate  expedition 
against  the  Greek  colony  of  Cyrene,  was  de- 
throned by  Amasis,  the  contemporary  and  ally 
of  Croesus.5 

Amasis  rivalled  the  Lydian  prince,  in  his 
partiality  for  the  language  and  manners  of  the 
Greeks.  He  raised  a Cyrenian  woman  to  the 
honours  of  his  bed.  The  Greeks  who  had 
served  his  predecessors,  and  who,  in  conse- 


3 Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  clxxviii. — c.  cxcii. 

4 Herodot.  1.  ii.  c.  clii.  et  seq. 

5 Herodot.  ibid,  et  Diodor.  Sicul.  1.  i.  c.  xlvi 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


95 


VIIL] 

quence  of  the  Egyptian  law,  obliging  the  son 
to  follow  the  profession  of  his  father,  now 
amounted  to  near  thirty  thousand,  he  re- 
moved to  Memphis,  his  capital,  and  employed 
them  as  his  body  guard.  He  encouraged  the 
correspondence  of  this  colony  with  the  mother 
country ; invited  new  inhabitants  from  Greece 
into  Egypt;  promoted  the  commercial  inter- 
course between  the  two  nations;  and  assigned 
to  the  Greek  merchants  for  their  residence  the 
town  and  district  of  Naucratis,  on  the  Nile, 
where  they  enjoyed  the  free  exercise  of  their 
religious  processions  and  solemnities,  and  where 
the  industry  of  the  little  island  of  iEgina  in 
Europe,  and  the  opulence  of  several  Greek 
cities  in  Asia,  erected  temples  after  the  fashion 
of  their  respective  countries.6 

This  able  prince  was  succeeded 
lxiii  4 ky  his  son  Psammenitus,  soon  after 
. p ' _ Cambyses  mounted  the  throne  of 
' Persia.  While  Cambyses  made 
preparations  for  invading  Egypt,  Psammenitus 
imprudently  excited  the  resentment  of  Phanes,7 
a Halicarnassean  by  birth,  and  an  officer  of 
much  authority  in  the  Grecian  guards.  Phanes 
having  dexterously  effected  his  escape  from 
Egypt,  offered  his  services  to  Cambyses,  who 
by  this  time  had  collected  the  Grecian  and 
Phoenician  fleets.  This  armament,  however, 
seemed  unequal  to  the  conquest  of  Egypt;  and 
to  conduct  an  army  thither  by  land,  was  an 
undertaking  of  extreme  difficulty.  The  main 
obstacle  was  overcome  by  the  experience  of 
Phanes.  He  advised  Cambyses  to  purchase  the 
friendship  of  an  Arabian  chief,  who  agreed  to 
transport  on  camels  a sufficient  quantity  of 
water  for  the  use  of  the  Persians  in  their  pas- 
sage through  the  desert.  With  the  punctuality 
peculiar8  to  his  nation,  the  Arabian  fulfilled 
his  engagement.  The  Persian  army  joined  the 
fleet  before  Pelusium ; that  place,  regarded  as 
the  key  of  Egypt,  surrendered  after  a short 
siege ; Psammenitus  was  defeated  in  a great 
battle ; and  the  whole  kingdom  submitted  to  a 
haughty  conqueror,9  whom  prosperity  rendered 
incapable  of  pity  or  remorse. 

His  cruel,  outrageous,  and  almost  frantic 
behaviour  in  Egypt,  alarmed  the  neighbouring 
Africans,  who  sought  to  avert  the  tempest  from 
themselves  by  speedy  offers  of  submission  and 
tribute.  This  prudent  measure  was  adopted 
even  by  the  Greek  inhabitants  of  Cyrenaica, 
who  had  braved  the  united  power  of  Egypt  and 
Lybia.  The  African  Greeks  were  a colony  of 
Thera,  the  most  southern  island  of  the  iEgean, 
and  itself  a colony  of  the  Lacedaemonians.19 
During  the  heroic  ages,  but  it  is  uncertain  at 
what  precise  era,  the  adventurous  islanders  set- 
tled in  that  part  of  the  Synus  Syrticus,  which 
derived  its  name  from  the  principal  city,  Cy- 
rene,  and  which  is  now  lost  in  the  desert  of 
Barca.  Descended  from  Lacedaemon,  the  Cy- 
renians  naturally  preserved  the  regal  form  of 
government.  Under  Battus,  the  third  prince 
of  that  name,  their  territory  was  well  cultivat- 
ed, and  their  cities  populous  and  flourishing. 


6 Herodot.  1.  ii.  c.  clii.  el  seq. 

7 Herodot.  1.  iii.  c.  iv.  See. 

8 Herodot.  1.  iii.  c.  iv. 

JO  Herodot.  1.  iv.  c.  clix.  et  seq. 


9 Idem.  ibid. 


Six  centuries  before  the  Christian  era,  they  re- 
ceived a considerable  accession  of  inhabitants 
from  the  mother  country.  Emboldened  by 
this  reinforcement,  they  attacked  the  neigh- 
bouring Libyans,11  and  seized  on  their  posses- 
sions. The  injured  craved  assistance  from 
Apries  king  of  Egypt.12  A confederacy  was 
thus  formed,  in  order  to  repress  the  incursions, 
and  to  chastise  the  audacity  of  the  European 
invaders.  But  the  valour  and  discipline  of 
Greece,  though  they  yet  feared  to  encounter 
the  power  of  Cambyses,  and  the  renown  of 
Persia,  always  triumphed  over  the  numbers 
and  the  ferocity  of  Africa  :13  nor  did  Cyrene 
become  tributary  to  Egypt,  till  Egypt  itself  had 
been  subdued  by  a Grecian  king,  and  the 
sceptre  of  the  Pharaohs,  and  of  Sesostris  had 
passed  into  the  hands  of  the  Ptolemies.14 
^ Cambyses  is  said  to  have  died 

lxiv  4 * by  an  accidental  wound  from  his 
A C 521  own  sword.  Darius  Hystaspes,  the 
third  in  succession  to  the  empire 
(for  the  short  reign  of  the  priest  Smerdis,  de- 
serves only  to  be  mentioned  in  the  history  of 
of  the  palace,)  possessed  the  political  abilities, 
but  reached  not  the  magnanimity,  of  Cyrus. 
His  ambition  was  unbounded,  and  his  avarice 
still  greater  than  his  ambition.  To  discriminate 
the  characters  of  the  three  first  and  most  illus- 
trious of  their  monarchs,  the  Persians,  in  the 
expressive  language  of  the  East,  styled  Cyrus 
the  father,  Cambyses  the  master,  or  tyrant,  and 
Darius  the  broker,  of  the  empire.  The  last 
mentioned  prince  added  the  wealthy,  but  un 
warlike,  nations  of  India  to  his  dominions. 
This  important  acquisition,  which  closed  the 
long  series  of  Persian  conquests  in  Asia,  was 
formed  into  the  twentieth  satrapy,  or  great  di- 
vision, of  the  empire.  The  other  military  en- 
terprises of  this  prince  (as  we  shall  soon  have 
occasion  to  relate)  were  less  successful.  But 
his  reign  is  chiefly  remarkable,  as  the  supposed 
era  at  which  the  religious  and  civil  polity  of 
the  Persians  received  that  form  which  they 
afterwards  invariably  retained. 

Yet  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  the  great- 
est learning  and  ingenuity  have  failed  in  the 
arduous  task  of  ascertaining  the  age,  and  still 
more  of  explaining  the  doctrines,  of  Zoro- 
aster. At  whatever  period  he  lived,  he  cer- 
tainly did  for  the  Persians,  what  Homer  and 
Hesiod  are  said  to  have  done  for  the  Greeks.15 
His  theogony,16  as  the  Greeks  would  have 
called  it,  consisted  in  the  extravagant  doctrine 
of  the  two  principles,  in  some  moral  precepts, 
and  innumerable  absurd  ceremonies.  The 
magi,  or  priests,  who  probably  derived  some 
share  of  their  influence  from  practising  those 
occult  sciences  afterwards  distinguished  by 
their  name,  were  strongly  protected  by  the  au- 
thority of  the  prophet.  “ Though  your  good 
works,”  says  the  Sadder,  “exceed  the  sands  on 
the  sea  shore,  or  the  stars  of  heaven,  they  will 
all  be  unprofitable,  unless  accepted  by  the 
priest;  to  whom  you  must  pay  tithes  of  all 


11  Herodot.  1.  iv.  c.  clix. 

12  Herodot.  ibid.  Diodor.  Sicul.  1.  i.  c.  xlvi. 

13  Herodot.  ibid,  et  1.  iii.  c.  clxi. 

14  Strabo,  I.  ii.  ct  1.  xvii.  p.  836.  Pau»an.  1.  i. 

15  See  p.  71. 

16  Herodot.  1.  i.  c.  cxxxii. 


96 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


you  possess,  of  your  goods,  of  your  lands,  and 
of  your  money.  The  priests  are  the  teachers 
of  religion,  they  know  all  things,  and  deliver 
all  men.”  Next  to  the  priests,  the  royal  family, 
and  particularly  the  reigning  prince,  was  the 
peculiar  care  of  Zoroaster.  In  their  prayers 
and  sacrifices,  the  Persians  were  not  allowed  to 
solicit  individually  for  themselves  the  protec- 
tion of  heaven,  but  only  for  the  great  king,  and 
for  the  nation  at  large.  In  celebrating  their 
religious  worship,  they  employed  neither  altars, 
nor  images,  nor  temples ; they  even  derided 
the  folly  of  such  practices  in  others,  probably 
(says  Herodotus)  not  believing,  like  the  Greeks, 
the  nature  of  the  gods  to  resemble  that  of  men. 
On  the  summits  of  the  highest  mountains  they 
sacrificed  to  the  divinity  ; and  the  whole  circle 
of  the  heavens  they  called  God.  They  sacri- 
ficed, besides,  to  the  elements,  particularly  fire, 
which  they  considered  as  the  purest  symbol, 
and  most  powerful  agent,  of  the  divine  nature. 
They  borrowed,  however,  the  worship  of  some 
other  divinities  from  the  Assyrians  and  Ara- 
bians ; for  of  all  ancient  nations,  the  Persians, 
according  to  Herodotus,  were  the  most  disposed 
to  adopt  the  customs  of  their  neighbours. 
They  soon  preferred  the  dress,  and  as  an  es- 
sential part  of  dress,  the  arms  of  the  Medes  to 
their  own.  When  they  became  acquainted 
with  the  Greeks,  they  learned  the  wJrst  and 
most  unnatural  of  their  vices.  There  was 
scarcely  any  absurdity,  or  any  wickedness,  which 
they  might  not  imbibe,  from  the  licentious  ca- 
price, the  universal  corruption,  and  the  exces- 
sive depravity  of  Babylon.  The  hardy  and 
intrepid  warriors,  who  had  conquered  Asia, 
were  themselves  subdued  by  the  vices  of  that 
luxurious  city.  In  the  space  of  fifty-two  years, 
which  intervened  between  the  taking  of  Baby- 
lon, and  the  disgraceful  defeat  at  Marathon,  the 
sentiments,  as  well  as  the  manners  of  the  Per- 
sians, underwent  a total  change  ; and,  notwith- 
standing the  boasted  simplicity  of  their  reli- 
gious worship,  we  shall  find  them  thenceforth 
oppressed  by  the  double  yoke  of  despotism  and 
superstition,  whose  eombined  influence  extin- 
guished every  generous  feeling,  and  checked 
every  manly  impulse  of  the  soul.1 

The  tendency  towards  this  internal  decay 
was  not  perceived  during  the  reign  of  Cyrus, 
whose  extraordinary  abilities  enabled  him  to 
soften  the  rigours  of  despotism,  without  en- 
dangering his  authority.  He  committed  not 
the  whole  weight  of  government  to  the  inso- 
lence of  satraps,  those  proud  substitutes  of  des- 
potism, who  were  ever  ready  to  betray  their 
trust,  and  abuse  their  power.  The  inferior 
governors  of  towns  and  districts  were  appoint- 
ed and  removed  by  himself,  to  whom  only  they 
were  accountable.  By  an  institution,  some- 
what resembling  the  modern  post,  he  provided 
for  exact  and  ready  information  concerning  the 
public  occurrences  in  every  part  of  his  domi- 
nions. The  vigilant  shepherd  of  his  people, 
he  was  always  ready  to  hear  their  petitions,  to 
redress  their  grievances,  and  to  reward  their 
merit.  Nor  did  the  love  of  ease  or  pleasure 
ever  interfere  with  the  discharge  of  his  duty, 


in  whiclj  he  placed  the  greatest  glory  and  hap- 
piness of  his  reign.2 

q.  His  successors  were  universally 

lxv  4 * distinguished  by  an  exorbitant  am- 
A *C  *517  kition,  nourished  by  the  immense 
resources  of  their  empire,  which 
under  Darius  amounted  to  fourteen  thousand 
five  hundred  and  sixty  Eubceic  talents,  a sum 
equal  to  three  millions  six  hundred  and  seven- 
ty-five thousand  pounds  sterling.  Of  this  vast 
revenue,  which,  considering  the  value  of  money 
in  ancient  times,  exceeded  thirty  millions  at 
present,  the  Greek  cities  on  the  coast,  together 
with  the  Carians,  Lycians,  and  several  other 
nations  of  Asia  Minor,  paid  only  the  thirty- 
sixth  part,  a little  more  than  a hundred  thou- 
sand pounds.  Besides  this  stated  income,  Da- 
rius might  on  every  necessary  occasion  demand 
the  money  and  services  of  his  subjects.  His 
predecessors  were  contented  with  voluntary 
contributions,  and  a militia.  ^This  prince  es- 
tablished taxes,  and  a standing  army.  The 
number  of  his  troops  equalled  the  resources 
of  his  treasury  ; and  both  corresponded  to  the 
extent  of  his  dominions,  which  comprehended 
the  greatest  and  most  populous  nations  of  the 
earth.  The  barbarity  of  the  northern  Scy- 
thians, and  the  pertinacious  spirit  of  the  Eu 
ropean  Greeks,  the  only  enemies  whom  it 
remained  for  him  to  conquer,  seemed  feeble 
barriers  against  the  progress  of  universal  mo- 
narchy. In  the  extensive  regions  of  Asia, 
every  head  bowed  to  the  tiara  of  the  great 
king,  who  in  an  annual  progress  , through  the 
central  parts  of  his  empire,  spent  the  winter  in 
the  warm  plains  of  Babylon ; enjoyed  the 
happy  temperature  of  spring  in  the  city  of 
Susa,  which  adorned  the  flowery  banks  of  the 
Eulaeus ; and  avoided  the  summer  heats  in  his 
spacious  palace  at  Ecbatan,  fanned  by  the  re- 
feshing  breezes  of  the  Median  mountains.3 
q.  But  Darius  could  not  enjoy  the 

lxvi  4 splendour  of  his  present  greatness, 
A C 513  a sin?le  nation  had  merited 

his  resentment,  without  feeling  the 
weight  of  his  revenge.  The  wandering  hordes 
of  Scythia  have  been,  in  all  ages,  formidable  to 
the  civilized  kingdoms  of  the  East.  Thrice 
before  the  reign  of  Darius,  the  inhabitants  of 
that  frozen  region  had  overrun  the  finest  pro- 
vinces of  Asia.  Fighting  against  these  barba- 
rians, the  founder  of  the  Persian  empire  had 
lost  his  army  and  his  life.  It  belonged  to  his 
warlike  successor  to  punish  the  ferocity  of  that 
rude  and  uncultivated,  but  bold  and  high-mind- 
ed people.  With  an  army,  it  is  said,  of  seven 
hundred  thousand  men,  Darius  traversed  Asia 
Minor,  crossed  the  Thracian  Bosphorus,  ra- 
vaged Thrace,  and  arrived  on  the  banks  of 
the  Danube.  Meanwhile  a fleet  of  six  hun- 
dred sail  left  the  Asiatic  coast,  and  passing  the 
narrow  seas  which  join  the  Aegean  to  the 
Euxine,  coasted  in  a northern  direction  the 
shores  of  the  latter,  entered  the  mouth  of  the 
Danube,  and  sailed  along  that  river  until  they 
joined  the  army.  The  Danube  was  passed  by 
the  usual  expedient  of  a bridge  of  boats,  which 


1  Xenoph.  de  Inst.  Cyrii,  1.  iii.  p.  238—213. 


2 Xenoph.  ibid.  p.  230. 

3 Xenoph.  ibid,  ct  Herodot.  I.  iii.  c.  lxxix.  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


97 


VIII.] 

was  built  by  the  assistance  of  the  fleet  com- 
posed chiefly  of  Grecians,  who  were  left  to 
guard  the  work  of  their  hands  against  the  dan- 
gers of  the  elements,  and  the  destructive  rage 
of  the  barbarians.4 

This  formidable  army,  collected  from  so 
many  distant  provinces,  boldly  entered  the 
vast  uncultivated  wilds  of  Scythia,  in  which 
they  continued  for  five  months,  continually  ex- 
posed to  hunger  and  thirst,  and  the  darts  of 
the  flying  enemy.  When  they  prepared  to  re- 
turn from  an  expedition  in  which  they  had 
already  lost  the  best  part  of  their  strength, 
their  good  fortune,  rather  than  their  prudence, 
saved  them  from  immediate  destruction.  It 
had  been  agitated  among  the  Greeks,  whether 
they  ought  not  to  demolish  the  bridge  ; a mea- 
sure strongly  recommended  to  them  by  the 
Scythian  tribes,  who  having  ravaged  all  the 
adjacent  country,  expected  to  revenge  the  in- 
vasion of  the  Persians,  by  the  confining  them, 
without  resource,  in  an  inhospitable  desert. 
Miltiades,  an  Athenian,  descended  from  the 
heroic  Ajax,  eagerly  embraced  this  proposal. 
He  was  king,  or  tyrant  of  the  city  6f  Cardia, 
situate  near  the  neck  of  the  Thracian  Cherso- 
nesus.  There  his  uncle,  of  the  same  name, 
planted  a Grecian  colony,  which  uniting  with 
the  barbarous  natives,  formed  a small  commu- 
nity, the  government  of  which  descended  to 
the  son  of  his  brother  Cimon,  who  increased 
the  population  of  the  rising  state  by  new  in- 
habitants from  Athens.  The  generous  son  of 
Cimon,  though,  like  all  the  princes  of  those 
parts,  he  held  his  authority  under  the  protection 
of  Darius,  preferred  the  recovery  of  national 
independence  to  the  preservation  of  personal 
dignity.  The  other  chiefs  of  the  Grecian  cities 
listened  with  apparent  pleasure  to  his  argu- 
ments for  destroying  the  bridge,  and  thus  de- 
livering themselves  for  ever  from  the  yoke  of 
Persia.  Histiseus,  tyrant  of  Miletus,  was  alone 
averse  to  this  bold  resolution.  He  observed  to 
the  little  tyrants  of  the  Asiatic  Greeks,  “That 
their  own  interest  was  intimately  connected 
with  the  safety  of  Darius  and  his  Persians. 
Under  the  auspicious  influence  of  that  powerful 
people,  they  each  of  them  enjoyed  royalty  in 
their  respective  commonwealths:  but  should 
the  empire  of  the  Persians  fall  (and  what  less 
could  be  expected  from  the  destruction  of  Da- 
rius and  his  army,)  the  Greeks  would  imme- 
diately discover  their  partiality  for  republican 
government,  banish  their  kings,  and  reassume 
liberty.”  The  opinion  of  Histiseus  prevailed; 
OlvmD  Pers’ans  repassed  the  Danube  : 

lxvi  4 but  Miltiades,  dreading  their  resent- 
A C 513  men^  ^acl  previously  retired  to 
Athens,  where,  twenty-three  years 
after  the  Scythian  expedition,  he  enjoyed  a 
more  favourable  opportunity  of  displaying 
his  attachment  to  the  cause  of  liberty,  in  the 
ever  memorable  battle  of  Marathon.5 

If  the  public-spirited  Athenians  excited  the 
hatred  and  revenge,  the  selfish  tyrant  of  Mile- 
tus deserved  the  gratitude  and  the  rewards  of 
Darius.  To  continue  the  sovereign  of  his  na- 


4 Herodot.  1.  iv.  c.  i.  et  seq. 

5 Ibid. 


tive  city  seemed  a station  below  his  merit ; he 
was  taken  into  the  confidence  of  Darius,  and 
accompanying  him  to  Sardis,  and  afterwards  to 
Susa,  became  the  friend,  counsellor,  and  fa- 
vourite of  the  great  king.  While  Histiaeus 
acted  such  a distinguished  part  at  the  Persian 
court,  his  nephew  Aristagoras,  to  whom  he  had 
committed  the  government  of  Miletus,  incurred 
the  displeasure  of  Artaphernes-,6  the  brother  of 
Darius,  and  the  governor  of  Sardis.  The  re- 
presentations of  that  minister,  he  well  knew, 
would  be  sufficient  to  ruin  him,  both  with  his 
uncle  and  with  Darius,  by  whom  he  might  be 
deprived  not  only  of  his  authority,  but  of  his 
life.  Governed  by  these  considerations,  Aris- 
tagoras meditated  a revolt,7  when  a messenger 
unexpectedly  arrived  from  Histiteus,  exhorting 
him  to  that  measure.  The  crafty  Milesian, 
who  disliked  the  restraint  of  a court,  and  the 
uncouth  manner  of  the  Persians,  languished 
for  an  honourable  pretence  to  return  to  his  na- 
tive country  ; and  he  saw  not  any  means  more 
proper  for  affording  such  an  opportunity,  than 
the  tumults  of  the  Greeks,  which  as  lieutenant 
of  Darius,  he  would  probably  be  sent  to  quell. 

■ His  message  confirmed  the  resolu- 

lxix  3 ^on  Aristagoras,  who,  as  the 

A C 5CP  ^rst  aC^  2’e^e^^on  against  the 
'4"  Persians,  formally  renounced  all 
power  over  his  fellow-citizens.8  After  giving 
this  seemingly  disinterested  proof  of  his  regard 
for  the  public,  he  erected  the  standard  of  free- 
dom, which  was  soon  surrounded  by  the  flower 
of  the  Ionian  youth ; by  whose  assistance,  tra- 
versing the  whole  coast,  he  abolished  in  every 
city  the  authority  of  kings,  and  proclaimed  to 
all  worthy  to  acquire  it,  the  double  blessing  of 
civil  liberty  and  national  independence.9 

The  revolt  thus  happily  effected,  could  not 
however  be  maintained  without  more  powerful 
resources  than  the  strength,  the  bravery,  and 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  Asiatic  Greeks.  In  order 
to  resist  the  force  of  the  Persian  empire,  which, 
it  was  easy  to  foresee,  would  soon  be  exerted 
in  crushing  their  rebellion,  it  was  necessary  for 
the  Ionians  to  obtain  the  protection  and  co- 
operation of  their  brethren  in  Europe.  This 
important  object  was  committed  to  the  pru- 
dence and  activity  of  Aristagoras,  who  having 
settled  the  affairs  of  the  East,  undertook,  for 
the  public  service,  an  embassy  into  Greece. 

Lacedaemon  still  continued,  rather  in  name, 
however,  than  in  reality,  the  most  powerful 
state  in  that  country.  Though  their  govern- 
ment was,  in  strict  language,  of  the  republican 
kind,  yet  the  Spartans  sometimes  bestowed  an 
extraordinary  authority  on  their  kings.  This 
degree  of  pre-eminence,  more  honourable  than 
any  that  birth  or  fortune  can  bestow,  the  pub- 
lic esteem  had  conferred  on  Cleomenes.  To 
him  therefore  Aristagoras,  after  arriving  at 
Sparta,  found  it  necessary  to  apply  ;19  and  in 
order  to  effect  the  object  of  his  commission,  he 


6 Aristagoras  had  quarrelled  with  Megabates  the  kins- 
man of  Artaphernes  (since  both  were  of  the  blood  royal,) 
during  a fruitless  expedition,  in  which  they  seem  to  have 
enjoyed  a joint  command,  against  the  island  of  Naxos,  one 
of  the  Cyclades.  Herodot.  1.  ii.  c.  xxviii.  et  seq. 

7 Herodot.  1.  v.  c.  xxxvi.  xxxvii. 

8 Ibid.  9 Ibid.  c.  xxxviii. 

10  Herodot.  I.  v.  c.  xlix.  et  seq. 


98 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


described  to  the  Spartan  king  the  immense 
wealth  of  the  Persians,  which  they  had  neither 
virtue  to  enjoy,  nor  valour  to  defend.  He 
painted  in  the  warmest  colours,  the  love  of 
liberty  which  animated  the  Ionians,  and  their 
firm  expectation  that  the  Spartans  would  ena- 
ble them  to  maintain  that  political  indepen- 
dence, which  their  own  laws  taught  them  to 
consider  as  the  most  valuable  of  all  human 
possessions.  Their  interest  and  their  glory,  he 
observed,  were  on  this  occasion  most  fortu- 
nately united  : for  how  much  greater  glory 
might  be  acquired  by  conquering  Asia,  than  by 
ravaging  Greece  ? and  how  much  easier  would 
it  be  to  defeat  the  Persian  archers,  than  to  sub- 
due the  Arcadians  or  Argives,  who  knew,  as 
well  as  the  Spartans  themselves,  the  use  of  the 
spear  and  buckler?  Their  journey  to  Susa,  the 
rich  capital  of  the  Persian  dominions,  would  be 
not  only  safe  but  delightful.  To  prove  this, 
he  showed  the  Spartan  a brazen  tablet,  on 
which,  it  is  said,  were  engraved  all  the  coun- 
tries, seas,  and  rivers,  of  the  ancient  world. 
Pointing  to  the  coast  of  Asia  Minor,  and  the 
cities  of  the  Ionians,  with  which  Cleomenes 
was  already  acquainted,  he  showed  him  adjoin- 
ing to  these,  the  beautiful  and  rich  country  of 
Lydia.  Next  to  the  celebrated  kingdom  of 
Croesus  (he  observed)  extend  the  fertile  fields 
of  Phrygia,  equally  adapted  to  agriculture  and 
pasturage.  Beyond  Phrygia  lie  the  territories 
of  the  Cappadocians,  whom  the  Greeks  call 
Syrians.  Farther  towards  the  east  dwell  the 
wealthy  Cilicians,  who  pay  an  annual  tribute 
of  five  hundred  talents  to  the  king;  next  to 
them  live  the  Armenians,  abounding  in  cattle  ; 
and  last  of  all  the  Matienians,  bordering  on  the 
province  of  Cissa,  and  the  flowery  banks  of 
the  Choaspes,1  containing  the  superb  city  of 
Susa,  and  the  invaluable  treasury  of  Darius. 
This  immense  space  is  filled  by  well-inhabited 
countries,  intersected  by  excellent  roads,  and 
supplied  at  proper  distances  with  convenient 
places  of  refreshment  and  accommodation,  even 
for  a great  army.  Cleomenes  having  patiently 
listened  to  the  verbose  description  of  the  Mile- 
sian, answered  him  with  Laconic  brevity,  “ In 
three  days  I will  decide  concerning  the  pro- 
priety of  your  demand.”2  At  the  expiration 
of  that  time,  Aristagoras  failed  not  to  repair  to 
the  place  appointed,  where  he  was  soon  met 
by  the  Spartan  king,  who  asked  him,  In  how 
many  days  they  might  march  to  Susa  ? Here 
the  usual  prudence  of  Aristagoras  forsook  him  ; 
for  he  ought  not  to  have  told  the  true  distance, 
says  Herodotus,  if  he  had  wished  to  engage 
the  Spartans  to  accompany  him.  But  he  re- 
plied unguardedly,  That  travelling  at  the  rate 
of  about  eighteen  miles  a day,  they  might  reach 
Susa  in  three  months.  Upon  this  Cleomenes 
exclaimed  with  indignation,  “ Milesian  stran- 
ger, you  must  be  gone  from  Sparta  before  the 
setting  of  the  sun  ; for  you  have  made  a very 
inauspicious  and  a very  dangerous  proposal,  in 
advising  the  Spartans  to  undertake  a journey 
of  three  months  from  the  Grecian  sea.”  With 
this  severe  reprimand  he  left  Aristagoras,  and 


1 Otherwise  called  the  Eulaeus,  as  above,  p.  96. 

2 Herodot.  1.  v.  c.  xlix.  et  seq. 


[Chap. 

immediately  returned  home.  The  artful  Mile- 
sian, however,  was  not  to  be  disconcerted  by  a 
first  refusal.  According  to  the  custom  of  an- 
cient times,  when  men  endeavoured  to  paint  to 
the  eye  the  feelings  of  the  heart,  he  clothed 
himself  in  the  garment  of  a supplicant,  and 
sought  protection  in  the  house  of  Cleomenes. 
Having  obtained  the  favour  of  a third  audi- 
ence, he  attempted  to  effect  by  money  what  he 
could  not  accomplish  by  argument.  But  he 
found  it  as  difficult  to  bribe,  as  it  had  been  to 
persuade  the  Spartan  ; and  although  he  tempt- 
ed him  with  the  offer  of  above  five  thousand 
pounds  (an  immense  sum  in  Greece  in  those 
days,)  it  was  impossible  to  render  Cleomenes 
propitious  to  his  design.3 

Aristagoras,  thus  ungenerously  dismissed 
from  Sparta,  had  recourse  to  the  Athenians, 
from  whom  he  had  reason  to  expect  a more 
favourable  reception.  Athens  was  the  mother 
country  of  the  Ionians,  who  formed  the  great- 
est and  most  distinguished  portion  of  the  Asia- 
tic Greeks.  The  Athenians,  as  a maritime 
state,  had  always  maintained  a closer  connec- 
tion than  the  Spartans  with  their  distant  colo- 
nies ; and  as  they  possessed,  for  that  early  age, 
a very  considerable  naval  strength,  they  were 
not  averse  to  a distant  expedition.  Besides 
Olvmn  these  reasons,  which  at  all  times 

xlvi  3 must  have  had  no  small  influence 

\ C 594  on  t^ieir  counchsi  the  present  situa- 
tion of  their  republic  was  peculiarly 
favourable  to  the  cause  of  Aristagoras.  The 
free  form  of  government,  gradually  introduced 
by  the  progressive  spirit  of  liberty,  had  been 
defined  by  the  laws  of  Solon,  and  confirmed  by 
the  unanimous  approbation  of  the  whole  peo- 
ple. The  public  assembly,  consisting  of  all  citi- 
zens who  had  attained  the  age  of  manhood, 
was  invested  with  the  executive,  as  well  as  the 
legislative  powers  of  government.  The  nine 
archons  were  rather  the  minister.,  than,  as 
their  name  denotes,  the  governors  of  the  repub- 
lic. The  senate,  consisting  first  of  four,  and 
afterwards  of  five  hundred  members,  was  con- 
stituted by  lot,  the  most  popular  mode  of  ap- 
pointment. The  court  of  the  Areopagus,  ori- 
ginally entrusted  with  the  criminal  jurisdiction, 
assumed  an  extensive  power  in  regulating  the 
behaviour  and  manners  of  the  citizens.  It  con- 
sisted only  of  such  magistrates  as  had  dis- 
charged with  approbation  the  duties  of  their  re- 
spective offices.  The  members  were  named  for 
life ; and  as,  from  the  nature  of  the  institution, 
they  were  persons  of  a mature  age,  of  an  ex- 
tensive experience,  and  who  having  already  at- 
tained the  aim,  had  seen  the  vanity  of  ambition, 
their  characters  admirably  fitted  them  for  re- 
straining the  impetuous  passions  of  the  multi- 
tude, and  for  stemming  the  torrent  of  popular 
frenzy.  Such  was  the  government4  enjoyed 

3 Herodot.  1.  v.  c.  li. 

4 I forbear  treating  fully  of  the  Athenian  government  and 
laws,  until  the  establishment  of  what  was  called  the  Athe- 
nian empire.  During  more  than  sixty  years  that  republic 
maintained  dominion  over  many  hundred  cities  and  colo- 
nies. The  fate  of  all  these,  as  well  as  the  measures  of  in- 
dependent and  hostile  states,  depended  on  the  proceedings 
of  the  Athenians.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  a thorough  ac- 
quaintance with  the  internal  constitution  and  state  of 
Athens  wifi  become  necessary  for  explaining  the  historical 
transactions  which  we  shall  have  occasion  to  record. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


VIII.] 

by  the  Athenians,  which  they  fondly  regarded  as 
the  most  perfect  of  all  human  institutions,  and 
which  was  peculiarly  endeared  to  them  at  pre- 
sent, by  the  recent  discovery  of  freedom,  after 
a long,  though,  in  general,  not  a cruel  tyranny. 

The  danger  of  tyranny  is  an  evil 
1 3 necessarily  attending  every  demo- 

A *C  578  cra^ca^  rePublici  i*1  which,  as  there 
' ' ’ is  not  a proper  separation  between 

the  legislative  and  executive  powers,  the  assem- 
bly must  often  intrust  to  one  man  those  func- 
tions of  government,  which  the  collective  body 
of  the  people  are  sometimes  unable,  and  always 
ill  qualified  to  exercise ; and  in  which,  there- 
fore, the  splendour  of  wealth  may  dazzle,  the 
charms  of  eloquence  may  seduce,  and  the 
combined  power  of  policy  and  prowess  may  in- 
timidate and  subdue  the  unsteady  minds  of 
the  ignorant  vulgar.  The  fame  of  his  Olympic 
victories  could  not  procure  for  Cylon5  the  sove- 
reignty of  Athens;  and  it  is  probable  that 
many  other  unsuccessful  candidates  had  aspired 
at  this  high  object  of  ambition,  before  the  arts 
and  eloquence  of  Pisistratus,  who,  though  born 
an  Athenian  citizen,  was  descended  of  the 
blood  of  ancient  kings,  obtained  possession  of 
the  dangerous  prize,  which  proved  fatal  to  his 
family. 

What  his  enterprising  ability  had  acquired, 
his  firmness,  his  wisdom,  and  his  moderation6 
q,  enabled  him  long  to  maintain.  So 

lx^ni  3 completely  was  his  authority  esta- 
A C 510  ^lished,  that  on  his  death  the  go- 
vernment descended,  as  a private 
inheritance,  to  his  son.  Resentment  of' a per- 
sonal injury7 8  delivered  the  Athenians  from  the 
mild  tyranny6  of  Hipparchus  ; though  his  mur- 
derers, Hermodius  and  Aristogeiton,  were 
afterwards  celebrated  by  the  Athenians,  not  as 
the  avengers  of  a private  quarrel,  but  as  the  re- 
storers of  public  freedom.9 10  His  brother  Hip- 
pias  succeeding  to  the  throne,  treated  his  coun- 
trymen with  a degree  of  severity  which  they 
had  not  hitherto  experienced : his  person  and 
his  government  became  alike  odious ; he  was 
q expelled,  by  the  assistance  of  the 

578  510  Lacedaemonians,  and  the  general 

indignation  of  an  injured  people, 
after  his  family  had,  with  various  interruptions, 
governed  Athens  sixty-eight  years. 

The  power  of  Athens  was  great  in  ancient 
times;  but  it  became  incomparably  greater 
after  the  re-establishment  of  democracy.'9  So 


5 Thucyd.  l.i.  c.  cxxvi.  Plat  in.  Solon. 

6 Pinto  in  Hipparch.  Herodot.  Thucydid.  i.  20.  Aristot. 
Polit.  1.  v.  c.  xii. 

7 In  this  circumstance  Plato  agrees  with  Thucydides, 
whose  account  of  the  transaction  differs  widely  from  that 
of  most  other  ancient  writers.  Thucydid.  1.  vi. 

8 Plato,  p.  234.  The  orators  Andocides  and  Isocrates 
agree  with  the  philosopher.  Meursius  had  made  a careful 
collection  of  all  the  passages  relating  to  the  Pisistratidaj,  in 
his  Pisistratus. 

9  Al fl  (T$ OIV  XKlOf  £T(T£T".I  jcjit’  seiocv 

<t>l\T«TJ  Ag/UCitS  XXI  AglTXdytlT'MV 

On  TOV  TMgXVVOV  XTXVtTOV 

Irovo/iOvs  t’  ASsjvosj  ejroitirxTOv.  Alc/KUS. 

“Your  glory  shall  last  for  ever,  most  beloved  ITarmodius 
and  Aristogeiton,  because  you  slew  the  tyrant,  and  pro- 
cured equal  laws  for  Athens.” 

10  This  observation,  which  is  literally  translated,  has 
weight  from  such  an  old  and  honest  historian  as  Herodotus. 
His  words  are  still  stronger  in  another  passage:  it 

•u  xxtx  tv  ftovov  xKKx  sr«vT*%t]  a i rviyogix  u>(  ca-n  xgv,f*x 


advantageous  to  the  powers  of  the  human  mind 
\ q is  the  enjoyment  of  liberty,  even  in 

* * - . its  least  perfect  form,  that  in  a few 

^ 5 * years  after  the  expulsion  of  Hip- 

pias,  the  Athenians  acquired  an  ascendant  in 
Greece,  which  was  fatal  to  their  enemies,  pain- 
ful to  their  rivals,  and  even  dangerous  to  them- 
selves. They  chastised  the  insolence  of  the 
islanders  of  Euboea  and  iEgina,  who  contended 
with  them  in  naval  power;,  and  humbled  the 
pride  of  Thebes,  which  rivalled  them  in  mili- 
tary glory.  Favoured,  as  they  fondly  believed, 
by  the  protection  of  their  tutelary  Minerva, 
and  animated  as  they  strongly  felt,  by  the  pos- 
session of  an  equal  freedom,  they  adorned  their 
capital  with  the  richest  spoils  of  their  van- 
quished enemies.  Their  influence  soon  ex- 
tended over  the  northern  parts  of  Greece;  and 
the  fame  of  their  power,  still  greater  than  their 
power  itself,  alarmed  the  fears  and  jealousy 
of  the  Peloponnesians.  The  Spartans,  in  par- 
ticular, who  had  assisted  them  in  restoring  the 
democracy,  now  perceived  the  error  of  which 
they  had  been  guilty,  in  promoting  the  great- 
ness of  an  ambitious  rival.  In  order  to  pre- 
vent" the  dangerous  consequences  of  their 
folly,  they  summoned  to  a congress  all  their 
allies  in  Peloponnesus,  that  their  united  wisdom 
might  concert  proper  measures  for  resisting, 
ere  it  was  too  late,  the  encroachments  of  the 
A P cru  Athenians,  which  threatened  the 
liberties  of  all  Greece.  Their  allies 
readily  obeyed  the  welcome  summons,  and  the 
deputies  of  the  several  states  having  assembled 
in  the  Spartan  forum,  eagerly  listened  to  the 
speakers  appointed  to  explain  the  intentions 
of  that  republic.  The  Lacedaemonian  orators 
acknowledged  the  mistaken  policy  of  their 
country,  in  expelling  from  Athens  the  family 
of  Pisistratus,  and  delivering  the  government 
of  that  city  into  the  hands  of  a most  ungrateful 
populace,  who  had  since  treated  them  with 
much  indignity.  “ But  why  (they  proceeded) 


(rjrovJoeJOv,  si  xxi  A5>ji/o«<o»  rvgxvvsvofesvot  yusv,  ovSx/umv 
tuiv  <r(psxs  zrsgioixsovTwv  itrxi  xfjistv ouj,  x7txKKxxSsvtss  Se 
rvgxwwv,  /. ixxgw  TrgaiToi  sysvovTo.  Herodot.  1.  v.  c.  lxxviii 
11  Besides  this  principal  reason,  the  Spartans,  and  par- 
ticularly their  king  Cleomenes,  had  private  grounds  for 
quarrel  with  the  Athenians.  The  Alcmaeonidoe,  a powerful 
family,  and  rivals  of  the  Pisistratidae,  had  been  banished 
Athens  during  the  usurpation  of  the  latter.  Having  repeat- 
edly tried,  without  success,  to  return  by  force,  they  at  length 
had  recourse  to  stratagem.  The  temple  of  Delphi  having 
been  destroyed  by  fire,  they  contracted  with  the  Amphictyons 
for  rebuilding  it;  and  instead  of  employing  Porine  stone, 
agreeably  to  their  contract,  they  built  the  whole  front  of 
Parian  marble.  This  generosity  gained  them  the  good-will 
of  the  Amphictyons;  bribery  procured  them  the  favour  of 
the  Pythia,  or  rather  of  the  directors  of  the  oracle ; and  the 
Lacedaemonians  were  commanded  by  Apollo  to  deliver 
Athens  from  tyrants.  This  was  effected  by  Cleomenes, 
who,  upon  discovering  the  fraud,  was  moved  with  great 
resentment  against  Clisthenes,  the  principal  of  the  Alcmae- 
onidae,  by  whom  he  and  his  country  had  been  so  shamefully 
deceived.  He  therefore  united  with  Isagoras,  the  rival  of 
Clisthenes.  The  latter,  together  with  his  partisans,  were 
again  banished  from  Athens.  But  the  Athenians  perceiving 
it  to  be  the  intention  of  the  prevailing  faction  to  establish 
an  oligarchy,  flew  to  arms.  Cleomenes  and  Isagoras  took 
refuge  in  the  citadel.  On  the  third  day  they  surrendered  on 
capitulation.  The  Lacedaemonians  were  allowed  to  retire 
in  safety.  Isagoras  was  banished;  many  of  his  partisans 
executed ; and  the  Alcmaeonidre,  headed  by  Clisthenes, 
again  returned  in  triumph.  From  this  time  democracy,  in 
the  strict  sense  of  the  word,  continued,  with  short  inter- 
ruptions, to  prevail  in  Athens.  Herodot.  I.  v.  c.  lxv.’et  seq. 
Thucyd.  1.  vi.  c.  lviii. 


100 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


should  we  relate  private  injuries  ? Have  they 
not  insulted  all  their  neighbours?  Does  not 
their  pride  daily  increase  with  their  power? 
And  is  there  not  reason  to  dread,  that  their 
growing  ambition  may  endanger,  and  at  length 
destroy,  the  public  safety?  In  order  to  prevent 
this  evil,  we  have  recalled  Hippias  from  banish- 
ment. And  let  us,  therefore,  by  our  united 
efforts,  reinstate  the  son  of  Pisistratus  in  that 
power  and  authority  of  which  we  most  injudi- 
ciously deprived  him.” 

The  speech  of  the  Lacedaemonians  produced 
not  the  intended  effect.  The  Peloponnesians, 
however  jealous  of  the  Athenian  greatness, 
W’ere  still  more  jealous  of  the  power  of  tyrants ; 
and  many  of  them,  who  had  experienced  the 
haughtiness  of  Sparta,  were  not  dissatisfied 
with  beholding  a rival  to  that  republic  in  the 
northern  division  of  Greece.  The  other  depu- 
ties expressed  their  dissent  by  silent  disappro- 
bation; but  Sosicles,  the  Corinthian,  declared 
his  sentiments  at  great  length,  in  a speech 
which  alike  marks  the  manly  character  of  the 
age,  and  the  youthful  vigour  of  Grecian  elo- 
quence. “ Then  surely,  Lacedaemonians,  will 
the  heavens  sink  below  the  earth,  and  the  earth 
rise  sublime  in  the  air;  men  will  inhabit  the 
depths  of  the  sea,  and  fishes  will  take  posses- 
sion of  the  land,  when  you,  formerly  the  bul- 
warks of  liberty,  shall  demolish  the  popular 
governments  of  Greece,  and  establish  tyrannies 
in  their  room,  than  which  nothing  can  be  more 
unjust,  or  more  pernicious.”  After  this  pomp- 
ous exordium,  the  Corinthian  proceeded  to 
describe  and  exaggerate  the  calamities  which 
his  own  countrymen  had  suffered  from  the 
usurpation  of  Cypselus,  and  his  son  Periander. 
Having  related,  at  great  length,  the  proud, 
cruel,  and  despotic  actions  of  those  princes, 
“ Such,”  added  he,  “ are  the  genuine  fruits  of 
absolute  power;  but  I adjure  you  by  the  Gre- 
cian gods!  attempt  not  to  re-establish  it  in 
Athens.  The  Corinthians  were  seized  with 
astonishment,  when  they  heard  that  you  had 
sent  for  Hippias;  I myself  was  amazed  at  be- 
holding him  in  this  assembly;  yet  we  never 
suspected  that  you  purposed  to  restore  him,  in 
triumph,  to  his  much  injured  city.  If  you  still 
persist  in  this  fatal  resolution,  know  that  the 
Corinthians  disavow  all  part  in  a design  equally 
unjust  and  impious.”1  The  other  deputies 
listened  with  pleasure  to  the  boldness  of  Sosi- 
cles, who  expressed  the  sentiments  which  they 
themselves  felt,  but  which  their  respect  for  the 
A C 504  Lacedaemonians  obliged  them  to 
conceal.  Hippias  alone  opposed 
the  general  voice  of  the  assembly,  attesting  the 
same  gods  which  his  opponent  had  invoked, 
and  prophesying,  that  at  some  future  time  the 
Corinthians  would  repent  their  present  con- 
duct, and  regret  their  cruel  injustice  to  the  son 
of  Pisistratus,  when  their  own  citizens,  as  well 
as  the  rest  of  Greece,  should  fatally  experience 
the  dangerous  ambition  of  Athens.  This  re- 
monstrance, which  was  so  fully  justified  in  the 
sequel,  produced  no  immediate  effect  in  the 
assembly;  the  Lacedaemonians  finally  yielded 
to  the  general  request  of  their  confederates,  and 


Olymp. 
Ixix.  4. 

A.  C.  501. 

of  Sardis. 


Olymp. 
lxx.  1. 

A.  C.  500. 


abstained  from  their  intended  innovation  in  the 
government  of  a Grecian  city. 

The  dethroned  prince,  finding  his 
cause  universally  abandoned  by  the 
Greeks,  sought  the  protection  of 
Artaphernes,  the  Persian  governor 
Having  acquired  the  confidence  ol 
this  magistrate,  he  represented  to  him  the  in 
solence,  ingratitude,  and  perfidy  of  his  country- 
men, and  the  severest  reproaches  with  which 
he  loaded  their  character,  gained  ready  belief 
with  the  Persian.  The  Athenians,  who  were 
informed  of  these  intrigues,  sent  ambassadors 
to  Sardis,  in  order  to  counteract  them : but  the 
resolution  of  Artaphernes  was  already  taken 
and  he  told  the  ambassadors,  that  if  they  con 
suited  their  safety,  and  would  avoid  the  resent- 
ment of  Persia,  they  must  reinstate  Hippias  in 
the  throne  of  his  father.  His  answer  had  been 
reported  to  the  Athenians,  and  the  assembly 
had  finally  resolved  to  oppose  the  power  of  the 
greatest  empire  upon  earth,  rather  than  admit 
within  their  walls  the  declared  enemy  of  their 
liberties.2 

Precisely  at  this  juncture  Arista- 
goras  arrived  at  Athens,  explained 
the  revolt  of  the  Asiatic  Greeks  from 
the  government  of  Artaphernes,  and 
solicited  the  assistance  of  the  Athenians,  in 
defending  their  own  colonies  against  the  op- 
pressive violence  of  the  common  foe.  Many 
arguments  were  not  necessary  to  make  the 
people  of  Athens  adopt  a measure  which 
gratified  their  own  passions.  The  eloquent 
Milesian,  however,  described  the  wealth  and 
extent  of  Persia,  the  grandeur  and  populous- 
ness of  its  cities,  and,  above  all,  the  slothful 
effeminacy  and  pusillanimous  weakness  of  their 
inhabitants,  who,  unable  to  support  the  pon- 
derous shield,  or  to  poise  the  manly  lance,  in- 
vited, as  an  easy  prey,  the  victorious  arms  of  a 
more  warlike  invader.  The  speech  of  Arista- 
goras  was  well  fitted  to  excite  the  ambition  and 
avarice  of  Athens.  The  assembly  immediately 
decreed  that  assistance  should  be  sent  to  Ionia. 
Twenty  ships  were  fitted  out  with  all  con- 
venient speed,  which,  reinforced  by  ijve  more 
belonging  to  Eretria,  a town  of  Euboea,  ren- 
dezvoused in  the  harbour  of  Miletus.3 

Aristagoras  spent  not  long  time 
P*  in  his  embassy  to  the  other  states  of 
’ qq  Greece,  and  soon  met  his  Athenian 
’ ' * allies  at  the  place  appointed.  It  was 

here  determined,  that  ^vhile  the  commander  in 
chief  regulated  the  civil  affairs  of  the  Ionians, 
his  brother  Charopinus  should  conduct  a mili- 
tary expedition  against  the  wealthy  capital  of 
Lydia.  The  Athenians,  desirous  of  testifying 
their  resentment  against  the  common  enemy, 
and  still  more  desirous  of  plunder,  eagerly  en- 
gaged in  this  undertaking.  The  united  fleets 
left  the  harbour  of  Miletus,  and  sailed  to  Ephe- 
sus, where  the  troops  were  disembarked  ; and 
in  three  days,  accomplishing  a journey  of 
seventy  miles,  appeared  before  the  walls  of 
Sardis.  The  Persian  governor  little  expected 
such  a visit ; his  soldiers  were  not  prepared  to 
take  the  field ; and  the  extensive  walls  of  the 


1 Herodot.  1.  v.  c.  xcii. 


2 Ibid.  c.  xevi 


3 Ibid.  c.  xcvii. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


101 


VIII.] 

city  could  not  be  defended,  on  all  sides,  against 
the  besiegers.  Artaphernes,  therefore,  con- 
tented himself  with  defending  the  citadel ; 
while  the  Greeks,  without  opposition,  entered 
Sardis,  in  order  to  plunder  the  accumulated 
wealth  of  that  ancient  capital.  But  an  accident 
prevented  them  from  reaping  the  fruits  of  their 
success.  The  resentment  of  a rapacious  soldier, 
disappointed  of  his  prey,  set  fire  to  the  house 
of  a Lydian,  situate  on  the  skirts  of  the  town, 
which  consisted,  for  the  most  part,  of  very  com- 
bustible materials,  the  houses  being  all  roofed, 
and  many  of  them  walled  with  cane  ; a mode 
of  building  doubly  dangerous  in  that  adust  cli- 
mate. The  flames  readily  communicated  from 
one  house  to  another;  and,  in  a short  time, 
the  whole  circumference  of  the  place  was  sur- 
rounded with  a wall  of  fire.  Sardis  was  built 
in  the  Grecian,  not  in  the  eastern  fashion,4 
having,  on  the  banks  of  the  Pactolus,  which 
intersected  the  town,  a spacious  square,  which 
commonly  served  for  the  market-place.5  Thi- 
ther the  Persians,  driven  from  the  extremities, 
betook  themselves  for  refuge  against  the  fury 
of  the  flames. 

Arm  s formed  part  of  the  dress  of  Barbarians,6 
and  the  Persians,  who  had  assembled  in  the 
square  without  any  intention  of  making  de- 
fence, discovered  their  own  strength  to  be  more 
than  sufficient  to  resist  the  enemy.  Mean  while 
the  flames  of  Sardis  brought  the  inhabitants 
from  all  parts  of  Lydia  to  their  assistance. 
The  Greeks  were  attacked,  repelled,  obliged  to 
abandon  their  booty ; and  it  was  not  without 
much  difficulty  that  they  effected  their  escape. 
Their  retreat  from  Sardis  was  still  more  rapid 
than  their  march  thither.  It  then  appeared, 
that  the  taking  and  burning  of  the  Lydian 
capital  was  no  more  than  a stroke  of  military 
address,  which  succeeded,  because  unforeseen, 
and  of  which  the  Greeks  had  not  sufficient 
strength  to  avail  themselves.  The  enemy 
collecting  their  whole  force,  pursued  them  to 
Ephesus,  and  defeated  them  with  great  slaugh- 
ter, notwithstanding  the  vigorous  resistance  of 
the  Athenians.  The  Euboean  auxiliaries  also 
behaved  with  uncommon  spirit,  headed  by 
their  countryman  Eualcides,  whose  Olympic 
victories  had  been  highly  extolled  in  the  verses 
of  Simonides,  and  whose  death  on  this  occa- 
sion was  long  and  deeply  regretted. 

Bad  fortune  is  commonly  attended  with  dis- 
sensions in  a confederate  army.  The  allies 
threw  the  blame  on  each  other,  and  the  Athe- 
nians returned  home  in  disgust,  determined  no 
longer  to  endanger7  themselves  for  the  sake  of 
men  who  employed  so  little  wisdom  or  valour 
in  their  own  defence.  The  Ionians,  though 
deserted  by  their  allies,  and  defeated  by  the 
enemy  at  land,  carried  on  the  war  vigorously 
by  sea.  Sailing  northwards,  they  reduced  By- 
zantium, and  all  the  neighbouring  cities  on  the 
Hellespont,  or  Propontis.  Their  fleet  then  di- 
rected its  course  to  Caria,  and  having  become 
master  of  the  most  considerable  portion  of  that 
coast,  defeated  the  Phoenicians  off  the  isle  of 


4 We  have  already  observed,  that  the  Persians  had  not 
any  Forum,  or  place  of  public  resort. 

5 Herodot.  1.  v.  c.  ci.  el  seq. 

6 Thucydid.  in  proem.  7 Herodot.  ibid. 


Cyprus.  The  military  success  of  the  Persians 
engaged  them,  on  the  other  hand,  to  prosecute 
the  war  by  land ; and  their  subsequent  opera- 
tions discovered  such  a degree  of  prudence  and 
courage,  as  they  seem  never  to  have  exerted 
on  any  future  occasion.  In  order  the  more 
speedily  to  quash  the  hopes  of  the  insurgents, 
they  formed  their  numerous  army  into  three 
divisions,  allotting  to  each  its  particular  de- 
partment. After  these  separate  brigades  had 
reduced  the  smaller  cities  of  the  Eolians,  Do- 
rians, and  Ionians,  the  three  great  branches  of 
the  Hellenic  race,  it  was  concerted,  that  they 
should  re-assemble  in  one  body,  to  attack 
Miletus,  which  was  regarded  as  the  centre  of 
rebellion  ; and  which,  though  properly  an  Ionic 
city,  was  considered,  on  account  of  its  great 
strength  and  importance,  rather  as  the  metro- 
polis of  the  whole  country,  than  as  the  capital 
of  a particular  province.  This  plan,  so  judi- 
ciously concerted,  was  carried  into  execution 
by  three  sons-in-law  of  Darius,  Hymees,  Dau- 
rises,  and  Otanes ; the  first  of  whom  reduced 
the  Eolian  cities ; the  second  conquered  the 
Dorians,  as  well  as  the  other  inhabitants  of 
Caria,8  while  Otanes,  assisted  by  the  counsels 
and  bravery  of  Artaphernes,  overran  the  Ionic 
coast,  burning  and  destroying  all  before  him. 
The  miserable  natives  were  put  to  the  sword, 
or  dragged  into  captivity ; the  more  fortunate 
escaped  these  calamities,  by  flying  to  their 
ships,  or  taking  refuge  within  the  lofty  walls 
of  Miletus.6 

The  time  now  approached  for  attacking  that 
place,  which,  as  its  harbour  commanded  the 
Q,  coast,  it  was  necessary  to  invest  by 

Ixxi  3 sea  an<^  land*  We  might,  on  this 
A C 494  occasi°ni  exPect  to  find  Aristagoras, 
the  prime  mover  of  the  rebellion, 
displaying  the  fertile  resources  of  his  genius ; 
but  before  Miletus  was  besieged,  Aristagoras 
was  no  more.  The  perfidious  Ionian,  who  had 
persuaded,  not  only  his  own  countrymen,  but 
all  the  Asiatic,  and  many  of  the  European 
Greeks,  that  the  public  safety  was  the  sole 
object  of  his  concern,  had  never  probably  any 
other  end  in  view  but  the  success  of  his  own 
selfish  designs.  When  Cyme  and  Clazomene, 
two  neighbouring  towns  of  Ionia,  had  surren- 
dered to  the  Persians,  he  thought  it  time  to 
provide,  by  a speedy  retreat,  for  his  personal 
safety ; and  abandoning,  in  its  greatest  need,  a 
country  which  he  had  involved  in  all  the  cala- 
mities of  war,  he  fled,  with  his  numerous  par- 
tisans, to  an  obscure  corner  of  Thrace,  situated 
beyond  the  reach,  both  of  the  Persians,  from 
whom  he  had  revolted,  and  of  the  Grecians 
whom  he  had  betrayed.  But  while  he  endea- 
voured to  secure  his  establishment  there,  he 
provoked,  by  his  cruelty,  the  despair  of  the  na- 
tives, and  together  with  the  companions  of  his 
perfidy,  perished  miserably  by  the  hands  of 
those  fierce  barbarians,  who  thus  revenged 
what  happened  to  be,  for  once,  the  common 
cause  of  Greece  and  Persia.16 

8 After  the  conquest  seemed  complete,  Daurises  was  sur- 
prised and  slain  by  Heraclides,  a general  of  the  Carians 
But  this  disaster  had  no  effect  on  the  general  fortune  of  the 
war.  Herod.  1.  v.  c.  cvi. 

9 Herodot.  1.  v.  c.  cvi.  evii.  et  seq. 

10  Herodot.  1.  v.  c.  exxiv.  exxv.  exxvi. 


102 


HISTORY  OP  GREECE. 


About  this  time  Histiaeus,  the  Milesian,  the 
kinsman  and  friend  of  Aristagoras,  arrived 
from  Susa,  commissioned  by  Darius  to  direct, 
by  his  experienced  wisdom  and  perfect  know- 
ledge of  the  country,  the  valour  and  activity 
of  the  Persian  generals.  The  birth,  the  educa- 
tion, the  manners  of  this  singular  man,  together 
■with  the  strong  partiality  of  every  Greek  in 
favour  of  his  native  land,  might  have  afforded 
good  reason  to  the  Persian  king  to  suspect  his 
fidelity : he  indeed  suspected  it ; but  the  art- 
ful address,  the  warm  professions,  the  subtle 
insinuation  of  Histiaeus,  easily  overcame  every 
prejudice  which  his  situation  and  character 
made  it  natural  to  conceive  against  him.  He 
was  sent  to  assist  the  army  of  Darius,  his  be- 
nefactor, in  crushing  the  Grecian  rebellion ; 
but  his  real  intention  was  to  take  upon  himself 
the  conduct  of  that  rebellion,  and  to  raise  his 
own  greatness  on  the  ruins  of  the  Persian  pow- 
er. As  he  passed  to  the  coast  of  Asia  Minor, 
his  intrigues  produced  a conspiracy  at  Sardis, 
which,  being  discovered  by  the  vigilance  of 
Artaphernes,  ended  In  the  destruction  of  his 
accomplices.  Histiaeus  made  a seasonable  re- 
treat to  the* Ionian  shore,1  where  he  hoped  to 
be  received  with  open  arms  by  his  ancient 
friends.  But  the  Milesians,  remembering  his 
former  tyranny,  and  the  recent  baseness  of  his 
nephew  Aristagoras,  shut  their  gates  against 
him.  He  sought  admission  into  Chios,  but 
without  better  success*  The  Lesbians,  with 
much  difficulty,  lent  <iim  eight  vessels,  which 
he  employed  against  the  enemy  in  the  Euxine; 
but  he  was  taken  by  the  Persians,  and  crucified 
at  Sardis,  having  performed  nothing  sufficient 
to  change  the  fortune  of  a war,  which  had 
been  undertaken  by  his  advice,  and  fomented 
by  his  ambition.2 

Meanwhile  the  Persian  fleet  and  army  sur- 
rounded the  walls  of  Miletus.  We  are  not 
informed  of  the  exact  number  of  their  land 
forces,  which,  consisting  of  all  the  united  gar- 
risons in  those  parts,  must  have  greatly  exceed- 
ed any  strength  which  the  much  exhausted 
Greeks  could  bring  into  the  field.  Their  fleet, 
composed  of  Phoenicians,  Cilicians,  and  Egyp- 
tians, amounted  to  six  hundred  sail ; besides  a 
considerable  naval  force  belonging  to  the  isle 
of  Cyprus,  which,  having  co-operated  during 
one  year  with  the.  Ionian  insurgents,  had  re- 
cently submitted  to  Darius.  In  order  to  deli- 
berate concerning  the  means  of  opposing  this 
mighty  armament,  the  Grecians  assembled  in 
the  Panionian  council,  where  it  was  unani- 
mously resolved,  that  no  attempt  should  be 
made  to  resist  the  Persians  by  land  : the  citi- 
zens of  Miletus  alone  were  exhorted  to  defend 
their  walls  to  the  last  extremity,  under  the 
conduct  of  Pythagoras,  a person  of  great  rank 
and  eminence  in  that  republic.  While  every 
effort  should  be  exerted  for  maintaining  this 
strong  hold  of  Ionia,  it  was  determined  that 
the  Grecian  fleet,  the  last  and  only  hope  of  the 
nation,  should  assemble  at  the  small  island  of 
Lade,  lying  off  the  harbour  of  Miletus,  and 
offer  battle  to  that  of  the  Persians.3  When  all 


[Chap. 

their  forces  were  collected  at  the  appointed 
rendezvous,  they  amounted  to  three  hundred 
and  fifty-three  ships,  which,  containing,  each  at 
a medium,  a complement  of  above  two  hun- 
dred men,  made  the  whole  amount  to  a num- 
ber sufficiently  respectable,  and  which,  had 
they  all  remained  firm  and  unanimous  in  the 
common  cause,  might,  perhaps,  have  still  ren- 
dered them  victorious.  Such,  at  least,  was  tha 
opinion  of  the  Persian  commanders,  who,  when 
informed  of  the  strength  of  the  Grecian  fleet, 
despaired  of  conquering  it  by  open  force,  and 
endeavoured  to  effect,  by  policy,  what  they 
could < not  accomplish  by  valour.  Calling  to- 
gether the  Ionian  tyrants,  who,  after  being  ex- 
pelled their  dominions  by  Aristagoras,  had 
taken  refuge  with  the  Medes,  and  actually  fol- 
lowed the  standard  of  Darius,  they  represented 
to  those  banished  princes,  that  now  was  th 
time  to  show  their  attachment  to  the  service  of 
the  great  king.  For  this  purpose  they  were 
instructed,  each  of  them,  to  persuafle,  by  mes- 
sage or  a personal  interview,  the  subjects  whom 
he  had  formerly  commanded,  to  desert  the 
Grecian  confederacy  ; to  acquaint  them,  that 
if  they  complied  with  this  proposal,  their 
houses  and  temples  should  be  spared,  while 
those  of  their  more  obstinate  allies  would  be 
destroyed  by  the  flames ; that  their  republics 
should  be  treated  with  great  .lenity,  and  even 
received  into  favour,  while  their  countrymen 
who  resisted,  would  inevitably  be  reduced  into 
servitude ; their  youth  disgraced  by  castra- 
tion; their  virgins  transported  to  Bactria, 
to  satisfy  the  lust  of  barbarians ; and  their 
country,  which  contained  every  thing  once  dear 
to  them,  their  temples,  their  statues,  their 
oracles,  and  the  tombs  of  their  ancestors,  be- 
stowed on  some  more  deserving  and  less  rebel- 
lious people. 

These  insidious  representations,  however, 
produced  not  any  immediate  effect.  Each  com- 
munity, believing  that  they  alone  were  solicited 
to  abandon  the  common  cause,  scorned,  on 
account  of  their  private  advantage,  to  desert 
the  general  interest  of  the  confederacy,  and 
next  day  they  called  a council  of  war,  to  con- 
sider of  the  means  proper,  not  for  appeasing  the 
wrath, but  for  resisting  the  arms,  of  the  Persians. 

In  this  council,  where  no  distinction  of  per 
sons  prevailed,  every  individual  had  full  liberty 
to  propose  his  opinion.  That  of  Dionysius,  a 
Phocaean,  met  with  the  approbation  of  tho 
assembly.  “ Our  fortunes,”  said  he,  “ O Ioni- 
ans ! stand  on  a needle’s  point.  We  must 
either  vindicate  our  liberty,  or  suffer  the  igno- 
minious punishment  of  fugitive  slaves.  If  we 
refuse  present  labour  and  danger,  we  shall  be 
exposed  to  eternal  disgrace ; but  the  toils  of  a 
few  days  will  be  compensated  by  a life  of  free- 
dom, of  glory,  and  of  happiness.  Submit, 
therefore,  to  my  direction,  and  I will  pledge 
my  life,  that,  if  the  gods  declare  not  against 
us,  the  enemy  will  either  decline  the  engage- 
ment, or,  engaging,  be  shamefully  defeated.” 
The  Greeks,  consenting  to  submit  to  the  disci- 
pline of  Dionysius,  he,  every  day,  arranged 
the  fleet  in  three  divisions  : towards  the  east 
extended  the  right  wing,  consisting  of  eight 
ships  of  the  Milesians,  twelve  belonging  to 


1 Herodot.  1.  vi.  c.  ii.  et  seq. 

3 Herodot.  1.  vi.  c.  vi.  et  seq. 


2 Ibid. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


103 


VIII.] 

Priene,  and  three,  which  formed  the  whole 
strength  of  the  small  republic  of  Myus.  The 
centre  consisted  of  a hundred  prime  sailors, 
furnished  by  the  Chians,  seventy  from  Lesbos, 
and  a few  ships,  sent  by  the  little  cities  of 
Erythraea,  Phocaea,  and  Teios.  The  Samians 
alone,  with  sixty  sail,  formed  the  left  wing  to 
the  westward. 

In  ancient  times  the  success  of  a naval  en- 
gagement principally  depended  on  the  activity 
of  the  rowers,  and  the  skill  of  the  pilots,  whose 
object  it  always  was  to  dart,  with  great  vio- 
lence, the  sharp  beak  or  prow  of  their  own 
ships,  against  the  sides  of  the  enemy.  Some- 
times at  one  stroke,  more  frequently  by  re- 
peated assaults,  while  they  themselves,  with 
wonderful  dexterity,  eluded  such  a shock,  they 
shattered  or  sunk  the  vessel  of  their  opponents. 
By  their  continual  exercise  in  navigation,  the 
Greeks  had  acquired  such  proficiency  in  ma- 
naging their  gallies,  that  their  movement  de- 
pending, not  on  the  external  impulse  of  the 
wind,  but  on  the  active  principle  within,  re- 
sembled the  rapid  motion  of  a fish  in  its  native 
element.  Constant  practice, however,  was  neces- 
sary to  maintain  this  superiority,  and  still  more 
to  preserve  their  bodies  in  a capacity  for  labour, 
which,  on  account  of  the  softness  of  the  cli- 
mate and  the  heat  of  the  season,  were  ready  to 
melt  away  in  sloth  and  debility.  The  prudent 
Phocaean,  therefore,  commanded  them  often  to 
change  their  stations,  habituating  the  sailors 
to  the  labour  of  the  oar,  and  the  restraints  of 
discipline,  which  he  assured  them  would,  by 
habit,  become  easy  and  agreeable.  F or  seven 
days  they  cheerfully  obeyed  his  commands : 
but,  at  length,  the  warmth  of  the  season  ren- 
dered their  exertions  too  great  for  their  strength. 
Distempers  broke  out  in  the  fleet.  The  Greeks, 
always  averse  to  every  shadow  of  absolute  au- 
thoid^^complained  at  first  in  secret  murmurs, 
arl^^^rwards  in  licentious  clamours,  of  the 
intorenrole  hardships  to  which  they  were  ex- 
posed by  the  severity  of  an  insolent  Phocaean, 
who,  though  he  brought  only  three  ships  to 
the  common  defence,  had  assumed  an  arbitrary 
direction  in  all  their  affairs.  Governed  by 
these  sentiments,  they  refused  any  longer  to 
obey  his  commands,  landed  on  the  shore  of 
Lade,  formed  a camp  in  the  island,  and,  sitting 
under  the  shade  of  their  tents,  disdained  the 
useful  labours  to  which  they  had  hitherto  sub- 
mitted. 

The  Samians,  who  saw  and  dreaded  the 
consequence  of  this  general  disorder,  privately 
accepted  the  proposal  which  had  been  made 
them  by  the  Persians.  Their  perfidy  brought 
destruction  on  the  common  cause ; for  in  the 
engagement,  which  followed  soon  after,  they 
hoisted  sail  and  deserted  the  line.  The  Les- 
bians followed  their  example.  Among  those, 
however,  who  obtained  signal  honour,  by  ad- 
hering to  the  cause  of  Greece,  were  eleven 
captains  of  Samian  vessels,  who  detested  the 
treachery  of  their  companions,  and  despised 
the  signs  of  their  admirals ; on  which  account 


they  were  rewarded,  at  their  return,  by  the 
community  of  Samos,  with  a pillar  and  inscrip- 
tion, transmitting  their  names,  with  immortal 
renown,  to  posterity.  But  of  all  the  Greeks, 
the  Chians  acquired  greatest  glory  on  that  me- 
morable day  : notwithstanding  their  inferior 
strength,  they  defended  themselves  to  the  last 
extremity,  and  rendered  the  victory  late  and 
dear  to  the  Persians.  The  naval  defeat  was 
soon  followed  by  the  taking  of  Miletus,  which 
surrendered  in  the  sixth  year  from  the  com- 
mencement of  the  revolt.  The  Persians  made 
good  the  threats  which  they  had  denounced 
^ against  the  obstinacy  of  their  epe- 

mies.  Samos  alone,  at  the  price  of 
A C 494  Perfid^  obtained  the  safety  of 
its  houses  and  temples.  Those  of 
all  the  other  communities  were  burnt  to  the 
ground.  The  women  and  children  were  drag- 
ged into  captivity.  Such  of  the  Milesian  citi- 
zens as  escaped  not  by  flight,  were  either  put 
to  the  sword,  or  carried  into  the  heart  of  Asia, 
and  finally  settled  in  the  territory  of  Ampe, 
near  the  mouth  of  the  Tygris.  In  other  places, 
men  of  a timid  or  melancholy  complexion  con- 
tinued to  brood  over  the  ruins  of  their  ancient 
seats.  The  more  enterprising  sailed  to  Greece, 
to  the  coast  of  Italy  and  Sicily,  and  to  the 
Greek  colonies  in  Africa.  Probably  not  a few 
betook  themselves  to  piracy,  among  whom  was 
Dionysius  the  Phocaean,  who  plundered  the  Tus- 
can and  Carthaginian  vessels,  always  sparing 
the  Grecian.  The  Persian  fleet  wintered  at 
Miletus,  and  next  spring  subdued  the  islands 
of  Chios,  Lesbos,  and  Tenedos.4  Thus  were  the 
Asiatic  Greeks  conquered  for  the  third  time, 
once  by  the  Lydians,  and  twice  by  the  Persians. 

But  notwithstanding  these  repeated  shocks, 
which  subjected  the  inhabitants  of  Ionia  to  such 
dreadful  calamities,  that  delightful  country 
soon  recovered  its  ancient  populousness  and 
splendour.  The  Persian  government,  having 
sufficiently  punished  the  rebellion,  began  gra- 
dually to  relent.  The  Ionians  became  an  ob- 
ject of  care  and  protection  to  Darius.  Useful 
regulations  were  made  for  maintaining  the  pub- 
lic peace,  as  well  as  for  securing  the  lives  and 
properties  of  individuals.  The  face  of  the  coun- 
try began  once  more  to  smile  ; the  cities,  being 
built  of  slight  materials,  were  easily  repaired, 
while  the  exuberant  fertility  of  the  soil,  the  at- 
tractive beauties  of  the  prospect,  the  charms 
of  the  climate,  and  the  convenience  of  the  har- 
bours (an  advantage  of  which  the  Persians 
knew  not  to  avail  themselves,)  speedily  col- 
lected the  Greeks  into  their  ancient  habita- 
tions. Even  those  places  which  had  been  de- 
serted or  destroyed,  emerged  from  the  gloom 
of  desolation,  and  assumed  the  cheerful  appear- 
ance of  industrious  activity.  And  such  was 
the  attachment  of  the  Greeks  to  their  native 
land,  and  such  their  ambition  to  adorn  it,  that 
the  labour  of  a few  years  repaired  the  destruc- 
tive ravages  of  the  Barbarians. 


4 Ilcrodot.  1.  vi.  c.  xxxi.  ot  soq. 


104 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Resentment  of  Darius  against  Greece — Maritime  Expedition  of  Mardonius — Invasion  of  Greece 
by  Dalis  and  Artaphernes — Battle  of  Marathon ■ — Transactions  in  the  interval  between  that 
Battle  and  Xerxes’  Invasion — The  Invasion  of  Xerxes — Battle  of  Thermopylae. 


T N attempting  to  give  the  reader  a general, 
A but  tolerably  complete,  view  of  the  ancient 
history  of  Greece,  it  was  often  necessary  to 
have  recourse  to  very  obscure  materials;  to 
arrange  and  combine  the  mutilated  fragments 
of  poets  and  mythologists  ; and  to  trace,  by 
the  established  principles  of  critical  conjecture, 
and  the  certain,  because  uniform,  current  of 
human  passions,  those  events  and  transactions 
which  seem  most  curious  and  important.  In 
this  subsequent  part  of  my  work,  the  difficulty 
consists  not  in  discovering,  but  in  selecting,  the 
materials ; for  the  magnificent  preparations, 
the  splendid  commencement,  and  the  unex- 
pected issue,  of  the  Persian  war,  have  been  re- 
lated with  the  utmost  accuracy  of  description, 
and  adorned  by  the  brightest  charms  of  elo- 
quence. The  Grecian  poets,  historians,  and 
orators,  dwell  with  complacence  on  a theme, 
not  less  important  than  extensive,  and  equally 
adapted  to  display  their  own  abilities,  and  to 
flatter  the  pride  of  their  country.  The  variety 
of  their  inimitable  performances,  generally 
known  and  studied  in  every  country  conversant 
with  literature,  renders  the  subject  familiar  to 
the  reader,  and  difficult  to  the  writer.  Yet  does 
the  merit  of  those  performances,  however  justly 
and  universally  admired,  fall  short  of  the  ex- 
traordinary exploits  which  they  describe ; ex- 
ploits which,  though  ancient,  still  preserve  a 
fresh  and  unfading  lustre,  and  will  remain  to 
the  latest  ages,  precious  monuments  of  that 
generous  magnanimity,  which  cherishes  the 
seeds  of  virtue,  inspires  the  love  of  liberty,  and 
animates  the  fire  of  patriotism. 

The  memorable  tragedy  (to  adopt 
on  this  occasion  an  apt  allusion  of 


Olymp. 
lxxii.  3. 


A C*  490  PlutarchO  which  ended  in  the  eter- 
nal disgrace  of  the  Persian  name, 
may  be  divided,  with  propriety,  into  three  prin- 
cipal acts.  The  first  contains  the  invasion  of 
qj  Greece  by  Darius’s  generals,  Da- 

lxxv  1 ^is  an<^  Artaphernes,  who  were  de- 
A C 480  feate(*  ln  battle  of  Marathon. 

The  second  consists  in  the  expedi- 
tion undertaken  ten  years  afterwards  by  Xer- 
xes, the  son  and  successor  of  Darius,  who  fled 
q,  precipitately  from  Greece,  after  the 

IxTJ  ruiu  ^eet  near  the  isle  of  Sa- 
A C 479  *am*s*  The  third,  and  concluding 
act,  is  the  destruction  of  the  Persian 
armies  in  the  bloody  fields  of  Mycale  and  Pla- 
tea ; events  which  happened  on  the  same  day, 
and  nearly  two  years  after  Xerxes’s  triumphal 
entry  into  Greece. 

The  complete  reduction  of  the  insurgents  on 
the  Asiatic  coast,  prompted  Darius  to  take  ven- 
geance on  such  Greeks  as  had  encouraged  and 
assisted  the  unsuccessful  rebellion  of  his  sub- 
jects. The  proud  monarch  of  the  East,  when 
informed  that  the  citizens  of  Athens  had  co- 
operated with  the  Ionians  in  the  taking  and 


lxxi.  4. 

A.  C.  493. 


burning  of  Sardis,  discovered  evident  marks 
of  the  most  furious  resentment ; shooting  an 
arrow  into  the  air,  he  prayed  that  heaven  might 
assist  him  in  punishing  the  audacious  insolence 
of  that  republic ; and  every  time  he  sat  down 
to  table,  an  attendant  reminded  him  of  the 
Athenians,  lest  the  delights  of  eastern  luxury 
should  seduce  him  from  his  fell  purpose  of  re- 
venge.1 

The  execution  of  his  design  was 
entrusted  to  Mardonius,  a Persian 
nobleman  of  the  first  rank,  whose 
personal,  as  well  as  hereditary  ad- 
vantages, had  entitled  him  to  the  marriage  of 
Artazostra  daughter  of  Darius ; and  whose 
youth  and  inexperience  were  compensated,  in 
the  opinion  of  his  master,  by  his  superioi 
genius  for  war,  and  innate  love  of  glory.  In 
the  second  spring  after  the  cruel  punishment 
of  the  Ionians,  Mardonius  approached  the 
European  coast  with  an  armament  sufficient  to 
inspire  terror  into  Greece.  The  rich  island  of 
Thasus,  whose  golden  mines  yielded  a revenue 
of  near  three  hundred  talents,  submitted  to  his 
fleet;  while  his  land-forces  added  the  barba- 
rous province  of  Macedon  to  the  Persian  em- 
pire. But  having  steered  southward  from  Tha- 
sus, the  whole  armament  was  overtaken,  and 
almost  destroyed,  by  a violent  storm,  while  en- 
deavouring to  double  the  promontory  of  mount 
Athos,  which  is  connected  with  the  Macedo- 
nian shore  by  a low  and  narrow  neck  of  land, 
but  forms  a long  and  lofty  ridge  in  the  sea. 
Three  hundred  vessels  were  dashed  against  the 
rocks;  twenty  thousand  men  perished  in  the 
waves.  This  disaster  totally  defeated  the  de- 
sign of  the  expedition ; and  Mardonius  having 
recovered  the  shattered  remains  of  the  fleet 
and  army,  returned  to  the  court  of  Persia, 
where,  by  flattering  the  pride,  he  averted  the 
resentment  of  Darius ; while  he  represented, 
that  the  Persian  forces,  invincible  by  the  power 
of  man,  had  yielded  to  the  fury  of  the  ele- 
ments ; and  while  he  described  and  exagger- 
ated, to  the  astonishment  and  terror  of  his 
countrymen,  the  excessive  cold,  the  violent 
tempests,  the  monstrous  marine  animals,  which 
distinguish  and  render  formidable  those  distant 
and  unknown  seas.2 

The  address  of  Mardonius  res- 
Ixxii  3 cued  him  from  punishment ; but 
his  misfortunes  removed  him  from 
* * ’ the  command  of  Lower  Asia.  Two 

generals  were  appointed  in  his  room,  of  whom 
Datis,  a Mede,  was  the  more  distinguished  by 
his  age  and  experience,  while  Artaphernes,  a 
Persian,  was  the  more  conspicuous  for  his  rank 
and  nobility,  being  descended  of  the  royal 
blood,  and  son  to  Artaphernes,  governor  of 


1 Herodot.  1.  v.  c.  cv.  et  6eq. 

2 Herodot.  1.  vi.  c.  xliii.  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


105 


IX.] 

Sardis,  whose  name  has  frequently  occurred  in 
the  present  history.  That  his  lieutenants  might 
appear  with  a degree  of  splendour  suitable  to 
the  majesty  of  Persia,  Darius  assembled  an 
army  of  five  hundred  thousand  men,* * 3  consist- 
ing of  the  flower  of  the  provincial  troops  of 
his  extensive  empire.  The  preparation  of  an 
adequate  number  of  transports  and  ships  of 
war,  occasioned  but  a short  delay.  The  mari- 
time provinces  of  the  empire,  Egypt,  Phoenicia, 
and  the  coasts  of  the  Euxine  and  Egean  seas, 
were  commanded  to  fit  out,  with  all  possible 
expedition,  their  whole  naval  strength  ; the 
old  vessels  were  repaired,  many  new  ones  were 
built,  and  in  the  course  of  the  same  year  in 
which  the  preparations  commenced,  a fleet  of 
six  hundred  sail  was  ready  to  put  to  sea.  This 
immense  armament  the  Persian  generals  were 
ordered  to  employ,  in  extending  their  con- 
quests on  the  side  of  Europe,  in  subduing  the 
republics  of  Greece,  and  more  particularly  in 
chastising  the  insolence  of  the  Eretrians  and 
Athenians,  the  only  nations  which  had  con- 
spired with  the  revolt  of  the  Ionians,  and  as- 
sisted that  rebellious  people  in  the  destruction 
of  Sardis.  With  respect  to  the  other  nations 
which  might  be  reduced  by  his  arms,  the  orders 
of  Darius  were  general,  and  the  particular 
treatment  of  the  vanquished  was  left  to  the 
discretion  of  his  lieutenants;  but  concerning 
the  Athenians  and  Eretrians,  he  gave  the  most 
positive  commands,  that  their  territories  should 
be  laid  waste,  their  houses  and  temples  burned 
or  demolished,  and  their  persons  carried  in 
captivity  to  the  eastern  extremities  of  his  em- 
pire. Secure  of  effecting  their  purpose,  his 
generals  were  furnished  with  a great  number 
of  chains  for  confining  the  Grecian  prisoners  ; 
a haughty  presumption  (to  use  the  language 
of  antiquity)  in  the  superiority  of  man  over  the 
power  of  fortune,  which  on  this,  as  on  other 
occasions,  was  punished  by  the  just  vengeance 
of  heaven. 

The  Persian  fleet  enjoyed  a prosperous  voy- 
age to  the  isle  of  Samos,  from  whence  they 
were  ready  to  proceed  to  the  Athenian  coast. 
The  late  disaster  which  befel  the  armament 
commanded  by  Mardonius,  deterred  them  from 
pursuing  a direct  course  along  the  shores  of 
Thrace  and  Macedonia:  they  determined  to 
steer  in  an  oblique  line  through  the  Cyclades, 
a cluster  of  seventeen  small  islands,  lying  oppo- 
site to  the  territories  of  Argos  and  Attica.  The 
approach  of  such  an  innumerable  host,  whose 
transports  darkened  the  broad  surface  of  the 
Egean,  struck  terror  into  the  unwarlike  inha- 
bitants of  those  delightful  islands.  The  Naxians 
took  refuge  in  their  inaccessible  mountains ; 
the  natives  of  Delos,  the  favourite  residence  of 
Latona  and  her  divine  children,  abandoned 
the  awful  majesty  of  their  temple,  which  was 
overshadowed  by  the  rough  and  lofty  mount 
Cynthus.  Paros,4  famous  for  its  marble ; 


3 Besides  Herodotus,  Plutarch,  and  Diodorus  Siculus, 
this  expedition  is  related  by  Lysias,  Orat.  Fund).  Isocrnt. 
Panegyr.  Plato,  Menex.  Pausan.  1.  x.  c.  xx.  Justin.  1.  ii. 
o k.  Corn.  Nepos,  in  Milt. 

4 The  marble  of  Paros  was  superior  in  whiteness,  and 
thu  fineness  of  its  grain,  to  the  hard  sparkling  veins  of  mount 
Pentelicus  in  Attica ; which,  from  the  size  and  brilliancy 

o 


Andros,5  celebrated  for  its  vines  ; Ceos,  the 
birth-place  of  the  plaintive  Simonides  ; Syros, 
the  native  country  of  the  ingenious  and  philo- 
sophic Pherecydes;  Ios,  the  tomb  of  Homer;6 
the  industrious  Amorgos  ;7  as  well  as  all  the 
other8  islands  which  surrounded  the  once  sacred 
shores  of  Delos,  either  spontaneously  offered 
the  usual  acknowledgment  of  earth  and  water, 
as  a testimony  of  their  friendship,  or  submit- 
ted, after  a feeble  resistance,  to  the  Persian 
arms.9 

The  invaders  next  proceeded  westward  to 
the  isle  of  Euboea,  where,  after  almost  a con- 
tinued engagement  of  six  days,  their  strength 
and  numbers,  assisted  by  the  perfidy  of  two 
traitors,  finally  prevailed  over  the  valour  and 
obstinacy  of  the  Eretrians.19 

Hitherto  every  thing  was  prosperous ; and  had 
the  expedition  ended  with  the  events  already 
related,  it  would  have  afforded  just  matter  of 
triumph.  But  a more  difficult  task  remained, 
in  the  execution  of  which  the  Persians  (happily 
for  Europe)  experienced  a fatal  reverse  of  for- 
tune. After  the  reduction  of  Euboea,  the  Athe- 
nian coasts,  separated  from  that  island  only  by 
the  narrow  strait  of  Euripus,  seemed  to  invite 
the  generals  of  Darius  to  an  easy  conquest. 
They  readily  accepted  the  invitation,  as  the 
punishment  of  Athens  was  the  main  object 
which  their  master  had  in  view  when  he  fitted 
out  his  seemingly  invincible  armament.  The 
measures  which  they  adopted  for  accomplish- 
ing this  design  appear  abundantly  judicious; 
the  greater  part  of  the  army  was  left  to  guard 
the  islands  which  they  had  subdued  ; the  use- 
less multitude  of  attendants  were  transported 
to  the  coast  of  Asia ; with  a hundred  thousand 
chosen  infantry,  and  a due  proportion  of  horse, 
the  Persian  generals  set  sail  from  Euboea,  and 
safely  arrived  on  the  Marathonian  shore , a dis- 
trict of  Attica  about  thirty  miles  from  the 
capital,  consisting  chiefly  of  level  ground,  and 
therefore  admitting  the  operations  of  cavalry, 
which  formed  the  main  strength  of  the  Bar- 
barian army,  and  with  which  the  Greeks  were 
very  poorly  provided.  Here  the  Persians  pitch- 
ed their  camp,  by  the  advice  of  Hippias,  the 


of  its  component  particles,  somewhat  resembling  salt,  is 

called  by  the  Italians  Marmo  salino.  These  two  kinds  of 
marble  were  always  the  most  valued  by  the  Greeks ; but 

the  marble  of  Paros  was  preferred  by  artists,  as  yielding 
more  easily  to  the  graving  tool,  and,  on  account  of  the  ho- 
mogeneousness of  its  parts,  less  apt  to  sparkle,  and  give 
false  lights  to  the  statue.  The  works  of  Parian  marble,  in 
the  Farnesian  palace  at  Rome,  are  mentioned  by  Winkel- 

mann,  Geschichte  der  kunst  des  Alterthums,  I.  i.  c.  2. 

5 The  wines  of  Andros  and  Naxos  were  compared  to 
nectar.  See  Athenacus,  1.  i. 

6 Strabo,  1.  x.  et  Plin.  1.  iv.  Pausanias  (in  Phocic.)  says, 
that  Climenes,  the  mother  of  Homer,  was  a native  of  the 
isle  of  Ios  ; and  Aulus  Gellius,  1.  iii.  asserts,  on  tho  autho- 
rity of  Aristotle,  that  this  island  was  the  birth-place  of 
Homer  himself. 

7 Amorgos  was  long  famous  for  the  robes  made  there, 
and  distinguished  by  its  name.  Suid.  ad  voc.  They  were 
dyed  red,  with  a species  of  lichen,  which  abounds  in  that 
island,  and  which  was  formerly  used  by  the  English  and 
French  in  dying  scarlet. 

8 Hero  dot.  1.  vi.  c.  94.  9 Ibid.  c.  101.  et  eeq. 

10  The  present  deplorable  slate  of  tnese  once  fortunate 

islands  may  bo  seen  in  Tournefort,  the  most  learned  of 
travellers.  Despotism,  a double  superstition,  (the  Grecian 
and  Mahommcdan,!  pirates,  banditti,  and  pestilence,  have 
not  yet  depopulated  the  Cyclades,  which  respectively  con- 
tain three,  five,  ten,  and  the  largest,  twenty  thousand  in- 
habitants. 


105 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


banished  king  of  Athens,1  whose  perfect  know- 
ledge of  the  country,  and  intimate  acquaintance 
with  the  affairs  of  Greece,  rendered  his  opinion 
on  all  occasions  respectable. 

Mean  while  the  Athenians  had  raised  an 
army,  and  appointed  ten  generals,  with  equal 
power,  chosen,  as  usual,  from  the  ten  tribes,  into 
which  the  citizens  were  divided.  Their  obsti- 
nate and  almost  continual  hostilities  with  the 
Phocians,  the  Thebans,  and  their  other  northern 
neighbours,  prevented  them  from  entertaining 
any  hopes  of  assistance  from  that  quarter : but, 
on  the  first  appearance  of  the  Persian  fleet, 
they  sent  a messenger  to  Sparta,  to  acquaint 
the  senate  of  that  republic  with  the  immediate 
danger  which  threatened  them,  and  to  explain 
how  much  it  concerned  the  interest,  as  well  as 
the  honour  of  the  Spartans,  who  had  acquired 
just  pre-eminence  among  the  Grecian  states, 
not  to  permit  the  destruction  of  the  most  an- 
cient and  the  most  splendid  of  the  Grecian 
cities.  The  senate  and  assembly  approved  the 
justice  of  this  demand,  they  collected  their 
troops,  and  seemed  ready  to  afford  their  rivals, 
whose  danger  now  converted  them  into  allies, 
a speedy  and  effectual  relief.  But  it  was  only 
the  ninth  day  of  the  month ; and  an  ancient, 
unaccountable,  and  therefore  the  more  respect- 
ed, superstition  prevented  the  Spartans  from 
taking  the  field,  before  the  full  of  the  moon.2 
When  that  period  should  arrive,  they  promised 
to  march,  with  the  utmost  expedition,  to  the 
plains  of  Marathon. 

Mean  while  the  Athenians  had  been  rein- 
forced by  a thousand  chosen  warriors  from 
Platsea,  a small  city  of  Bceotia,  distant  only 
nine  miles  from  Tliebes.  The  independant 
spirit  of  the  Plataeans  rendered  them  as  desi- 
rous of  preserving  their  freedom,  as  they  were 
unable  to  defend  it  against  the  Theban  power. 
But  that  invaluable  possession,  which  their 
own  weakness  would  have  made  it  necessary 
for  them  to  surrender,  the  protection  of  Athens 
enabled  them  to  maintain^and,  in  return  for  this 
inestimable  favour,  they  discovered  towards 
their  benefactors,  on  the  present  as  well  as  on 
every  future  occasion,  the  sincerest  proofs  of 
gratitude  and  respect.  The  Athenian  army, 
now  ready  to  take  the  field,  consisted  of  about 
ten  thousand  freemen,  and  of  probably  a still 
greater  number  of  armed  slaves.  The  generals 
might  certainly  have  collected  a larger  body  of 
troops ; but  they  seem  to  have  been  averse  to 
commit  the  safety  of  the  state  to  the  fortune 
of  a single  engagement;  neither  would  it  have 
been  prudent  to  leave  the  walls  of  Athens,  and 
the  other  fortresses  of  Attica,  altogether  naked 
and  defenceless.  It  had  been  a matter  of  de- 
liberation in  the  assembly,  whether  they  ought 
not  to  stand  a siege  rather  than  venture  a bat- 
tle. The  Athenian  fortifications,  indeed,  had 
not  attained  that  strength  which  they  after- 
wards acquired,  yet  they  might  have  long  re- 
sisted the  artless  assaults  of  the  Persians;  or 
had  the  latter  got  possession  of  the  walls,  the 
long,  narrow,  and  winding  streets3  of  Athens 


1 Thucyd.  1.  vi.  c.  lix.  Herodot.  ubi  supra. 

3 Strabo,  1.  ix.  p.  611 ; and  Herodot.  ibid. 

3 Aristotle  informs  us,  that  this  was  the  ancient  mode 

of  building  in  all  the  cities  of  Greece.  Arist.  Polit. 


[Chap. 

would  have  enabled  a small  number  of  men  to 
make  an  obstinate,  and  perhaps  a successful 
defence,  against  a superior  but  less  determined 
enemy.  But  all  hopes  from  this  mode  of  re- 
sistance were  damped  by  the  consideration, 
that  an  immense  host  of  Persians  might  sur- 
round their  city  on  every  side,  intercept  their 
supplies,  and  instead  of  conquering  them  by 
assault,  reduce  them  by  famine.  At  the  same 
time  Miltiades,  one  of  the  ten  generals,  whose 
patriotism  and  love  of  liberty  we  have  already 
had  occasion  to  applaud,  animated  his  coun- 
trymen with  the  desire  of  victory  and  glory. 
This  experienced  commander  knew  the  Per- 
sians ; he  knew  his  fellow-citizens ; and  his  dis- 
cerning sagacity  had  formed  a proper  estimate 
of  both. 

The  Athenians  were  few  in  number,  but 
chosen  men ; their  daily  practice  in  the  gym- 
nastic had  given  them  agility  of  limbs,  dexterity 
of  hand,  and  an  unusual  degree  of  vigour  both 
of  mind  and  body.  Their  constant  exercise  in 
war  had  inured  them  to  hardship  and  fatigue, 
accustomed  them  to  the  useful  restraints  of  dis- 
cipline, and  familiarized  them  to  those  skilful 
evolutions  which  commonly  decide  the  fortune 
of  the  field.  Their  defensive  as  well  as  offen- 
sive armour  was  remarkably  complete;  and  an 
acknowledged  pre-eminence  over  their  neigh- 
bours, had  inspired  them  with  a military  en- 
thusiasm, which  on  this  occasion  was  doubly 
animated,  in  defence  of  their  freedom  and  of 
their  country.  In  their  pertinacious  struggles 
with  each  other,  for  whatever  men  hold  most 
precious,  the  Greeks,  and  the  Athenians  in 
particular,  had  adopted  a mode  of  military 
arrangement  which  cannot  be  too  highly  ex- 
tolled. Drawn  up  in  a close  and  firm  phalanx, 
commonly  sixteen  deep,  the  impetuous  vigour 
of  the  most  robust  youth  held  the  first  ranks ; 
the  last  were  closed  by  the  steady  courage  of 
experienced  veterans,  whose  resentment  against 
cowardice  seemed  more  terrible  to  their  com- 
panions than  the  arms  of  an  enemy.  As  the 
safety  of  the  last  ranks  depended  on  the  ac- 
tivity of  the  first,  their  united  assaults  were 
rendered  alike  furious  and  persevering,  and 
hardly  to  be  resisted  by  any  superiority  of 
numbers.4 


4 The  attention  given  by  the  Greeks  to  the  relative  dis 
position  of  the  ranks,  according  to  the  respective  qualities 
of  the  men  who  composed  them,  introduced  certain  rules  In 
ancient  tactics  which  would  be  unnecessary  in  the  modern 
To  convert  the  rear  into  the  front,  a modern  army  has  only 
to  face  about,  because  it  is  not  very  material  in  what  order 
the  ranks  are  placed.  But  we  learn  from  the  tactics  of 
Arrian,  that  the  Greeks  had  contrived  three  other  ways  of 
performing  this  evolution,  in  all  of  which  the  same  front 
was  uniformly  presented  to  the  enemy. — The  first  was  called 
the  Macedonian.  In  this  evolution  the  file-leader  faced  to 
the  right-about,  without  stirring  from  his  place;  the  other 
men  in  the  file  passed  behind  him,  and,  after  a certain  num 
her  of  paces,  also  faced  about,  and  found  themselves  in 
their  respective  places. — The  second  was  called  the  Cretan. 
In  this  the  file-leader  not  only  faced  about,  but  paced  over 
the  depth  of  the  phalanx.  The  rest  followed  him,  and  the 
whole  found  themselves  in  the  same  place  as  before,  the 
ranks  only  reversed. — The  third  was  called  the  Lacedae- 
monian, which  was  precisely  the  reverse  of  the  first.  In  the 
Lacedaemonian  evolution  the  first  bringer-up,  or  last  man 
in  each  file,  whom  the  Greeks  called  ovfMj-os,  faced  about, 
then  hailed.  The  file-leader  faced  about,  and  paced  over 
twice  the  depth  of  the  phalanx,  the  rest  following  him ; the 
whole  thus  found  themselves  with  the  same  front  towards 
the  enemy,  the  ranks  only  reversed.  The  difference  between 
these  three  evolutions  consisted  in  this,  thatthe  Macedonian, 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


107 


IX.] 

The  Persians  (for  under  the  name  of  Per- 
sians are  comprehended  the  various  nations 
which  followed  the  standard  of  Datis  and 
Artaphernes)  were  not  deficient  in  martial  ap- 
pearance, nor  perhaps  entirely  destitute  of 
valour,  being  selected  with  care  from  the  flower 
of  the  Asiatic  provinces.  But,  compared  with 
the  regularity  of  the  Greek  battalions,  they 
may  be  regarded  as  a promiscuous  crowd, 
armed  in  each  division  with  the  peculiar 
weapons  of  their  respective  countries,  incapa- 
ble of  being  harmonized  by  general  movements, 
Dr  united  into  any  uniform  system  of  military 
irrangement.  Darts  and  arrows  were  their 
tsual  instruments  of  attack ; and  even  the  most 
ompletely  armed  trusted  to  some  species  of 
i fissile  weapon.  They  carried  in  their  left 
Lands  light  targets  of  reed  or  osier,  and  their 

dies  were  sometimes  covered  with  thin  plates 
of  scaly  metal ; but  they  had  not  any  defensive 
armour  worthy  of  being  compared  with  the 
firm  corselets,  the  brazen  greaves,  the  massy 
bucklers  of  their  Athenian  opponents.  The 
bravest  of  the  Barbarians  fought  on  horseback; 
but  in  all  ages  the  long  Grecian  spear  has 
proved  the  surest  defence  against  the  attack  of 
cavalry,  iubomuch  that  even  the  Romans,  in 
fighting  agiiinst  the  Numidian  horsemen,  pre- 
ferred the  strength  of  the  phalanx  to  the 
activity  of  the  legion.  The  inferiority  of  their 
armour  and  of  their  discipline,  was  not  the 
only  defect  of  the  Persians  ; they  wanted  that 
ardour  and  emulation  which,  in  the  close  and 
desperate  engagement  of  ancient  times,  were 
necessary  to  animate  the  courage  of  a soldier. 
Their  spirits  were  broken  under  the  yoke  of  a 
double  servitude,  imposed  by  the  blind  super- 
stition of  the  Magi,  and  tho  capricious  tyranny 
of  Darius ; with  them  their  native  country  was 
an  empty  name;  and  their  minds,  degraded  by 
the  mean  vices  of  wealth  and  luxury,  were  in- 
sensible to  the  native  chartns,  as  well  as  to  the 
immortal  reward  of  manly  virtue. 

Miltiades  allowed  not,  however,  his  contempt 
of  the  enemy,  or  his  confidence  in  his  own 
troops,  to  seduce  him  into  a fatal  security. 
Nothing  on  his  part  was  neglected;  and  the 
only  obstacle  to  success  was  fortunately  re- 
moved by  the  disinterested  moderation  of  his 
colleagues.  The  continual  dread  of  tyrants 
had  taught  the  jealous  republicans  of  Greece  to 
blend,  on  every  occasion,  their  civil  with  their 
military  institutions.  Governed  by  this  princi- 
ple, the  Athenians,  as  we  already  had  occasion 
to  observe,  elected  ten  generals,  who  were 
invested,  each  in  his  turn,  with  the  supreme 
command.  This  regulation  was  extremely  un- 
favourable to  that  unity  of  dpsign  which  ought 
to  pervade  all  the  successive  operations  of  an 
army ; an  inconvenience  which  struck  the  dis- 
cerning mind  of  Aristides,  who  on  this  occasion 


where  the  file-leader  stood  still,  and  the  rest  went  behind 
him,  had  the  appearance  of  a retreat ; since  the  whole  line 
receded  by  the  depth  of  the  phalanx  from  tho  enemy;  in  the 
Cretan,  the  men  preserved  the  same  ground  which  they  had 
originally  occupied;  but  the  Lacedemonian  carried  the 
whole  line,  by  the  depth  of  the  phalanx,  forward  on  the 
enemy.  Among  the  first  military  changes  introduced  by 
Philip  of  Macedon,  historians  mention  his  having  adopted 
theLacedfEmonian  evolution,  for  changing  the  front,  in  pre- 
ference to  that  formerly  used  by  his  own  countrymen. 


displayed  the  first  openings  of  his  illustrious 
character.  The  day  approaching  when  it  be- 
longed to  him  to  assume  the  successive  com- 
mand, he  generously  yielded  his  authority5  to 
the  approved  valour  and  experience  of  Mil- 
tiades. The  other  generals  followed  this  mag- 
nanimous example,  sacrificing  the  dictates  of 
private  ambition  to  the  interest  and  glory  of 
their  country  ; and  the  commander  in  chief  "thus 
enjoyed  an  opportunity  of  exerting,  uncon- 
trolled, the  utmost  vigour  of  his  genius. 

Lest  he  should  be  surrounded  by  a superior 
force,  he  chose  for  his  camp  the  declivity  of  a 
hill,  distant  about  a mile  from  the  encampment 
of  the  enemy.  The  intermediate  space  he 
caused  to  be  strewed  in  the  night  with  the 
branches  and  trunks  of  trees,  in  order  to  inter- 
rupt the  motion,  and  break  the  order  of  the 
Persian  cavalry,  which  in  consequence  of  this 
precaution  seem  to  have  been  rendered  incapa- 
ble of  acting  in  the  engagement.  In  the  morn- 
ing his  troops  were  drawn  up  in  battle  array, 
in  a long  and  full  line  j the  bravest  of  the  Athe- 
nians on  the  right,  on  the  left  the  warriors  of 
Platsea,  and  in  the  middle  the  slaves,6  who  had 
been  admitted  on  this  occasion  to  the  honour 
of  bearing  arms.  By  weakening  his  centre,  the 
least  valuable  part,  he  extended  his  front  equal 
to  that  of  the  enemy:  his  rear  was  defended 
by  the  hill  above  mentioned,  which,  verging 
round  to  meet  the  sea,  likewise  covered  his 
right ; his  left  was  flanked  by  a lake  or  marsh. 
Datis,  although  he  perceived  the  skilful  dispo- 
sition of  the  Greeks,  was  yet  too  confident  in 
the  vast  superiority  of  his  numbers  to  decline 
the  engagement,  especially  as  he  now  enjoyed 
an  opportunity  of  deciding  the  contest  before 
the  expected  auxiliaries  -could  arrive  from  Pe- 
loponnesus. When  the  Athenians  saw  the 
enemy  in  motion,  they  ran  down  the  hill,  with 
unusual  ardour,  to  encounter  them ; a circum- 
stance which  proceeded,  perhaps,  from  their 
eagerness  to  engage,  but  which  must  have  been 
attended  with  the  good  consequence  of  short- 
ening the  time  of  their  exposure  to  the  slings 
and  darts  of  the  Barbarians. 

The  two  armies  closed  ; the  battle  was  rather 
fierce  than  long.  The  Persian  sword  and  Scy- 
thian hatchet  penetrated,  or  cut  down,  the  cen- 
tre  of  the  Athenians ; but  the  two 
1/xii  3 wings?  which  composed  the  main 
\ C 490  st,ren£th  0fthe  Grecian  army,  broke, 

' ' ' routed,  and  put  to  flight  the  cor- 

responding divisions  of  the  enemy.  Instead 
of  pursuing  the  vanquished,  they  closed  their 
extremities,  and  attacked  the  Barbarians  who 
had  penetrated  their  centre.  The  Grecian 
spear  overcame  all  opposition  : the  bravest  of 
the  Persians  perished  in  the  field  ; the  remain- 
der were  pursued  with  great  slaughter ; and 
such  was  their  terror  and  surprise,  that  they 
sought  for  refuge,  not  in  their  c'amp,  but  in 
their  ships.  The  banished  tyrant  of  Athens 
fell  in  the  engagement:  two  Athenian  generals, 


5 Plutarch,  in  Aristid.  tom.  ii.  p.  489. 

0 There  is  not  any  historian,  indeed,  who  makes  mention 
of  this  arrangement,  although,  by  comparing  the  accounts 
of  the  havoc  made  in  the  centre,  with  the  small  number  of 
Athenian  citizens  who  were  slain,  it  is  evident  that  tho 
slaves  must  have  been  the  greatest  sufferers  in  the  action, 
and  therefore  posted,  as  is  said  in  the  text. 


108 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


and  about  two  hundred  citizens,  were  found 
among  the  slain  : the  Persians  left  six  thousand 
of  their  best  troops  on  the  scene  of  action. 
Probably,  a still  greater  number  were  killed  in 
the  pursuit.  The  Greeks  followed  them  to  the 
shore ; but  the  lightness  of  the  Barbarian  ar- 
mour favoured  their  escape.  Seven  ships  were 
taken ; the  rest  sailed  with  a favourable  gale, 
doubled  the  cape  of  Sunium  ; and,  after  a fruit- 
less attempt  to  surprise  the  harbour  of  Athens, 
returned  to  the  coast  of  Asia.1 

The  loss  and  disgrace  of  the  Persians  on  this 
memorable  occasion,  was  compensated  by  only 
one  consolation.  They  had  been  defeated  in 
the  engagement,  compelled  to  abandon  their 
camp,  and  driven  ignominiously  to  their  ships  ; 
but  they  carried  with  them  to  Asia  the  Ere- 
trian  prisoners,  who,  in  obedience  to  the  orders 
of  Darius,  were  safely  conducted  to  Susa. 
These  unhappy  men  had  every  reason  to  dread 
being  treated  as  victims  of  royal  resentment ; 
but  when  they  were  conducted  in  chains  to  the 
presence  of  the  great  king,  their  reception  was 
very  different  from  what  their  fears  naturally 
led  them  to  expect.  Whether  reflection  sug- 
gested to  Darius  the  pleasure  which  he  might 
derive  in  peace,  and  the  assistance  which  he 
might  receive  in  war,  from  the  arts  and  arms 
of  the  Eretrians,  or  that  a ray  of  magnanimity 
for  once  enlightened  the  soul  of  a despot,  he 
ordered  the  Greeks  to  be  immediately  released 
from  captivity,  and  soon  afterwards  assigned 
them  for  their  habitation  the  fertile  district 
of  Anderica,  lying  in  the  province  of  Cissia,  in 
Susiana,  at  the  distance  of  only  forty  miles 
from  the  capital.  There  the  colony  remained 
in  the  time  of  Plerodotus,  preserving  their  Gre- 
cian language  and  institutions ; and  after  a 
revolution  of  six  centuries,  their  descendants 
were  visited  by  Apollonius  Tyaneus,2  the  cele- 
brated Pythagorean  philosopher,  and  were  still 
distinguished  from  the  surrounding  nations  by 
the  indubitable  marks  of  European  extraction. 

When  any  disaster  befell  the  Persian  arms, 
the  great,  and  once  independent,  powers  of  the 
empire  were  ever  ready  to  revolt.  The  neces- 
sity of  watching  the  first  symptoms  of  those 
formidable  rebellions  gradually  drew  the 
troops  of  Darius  from  the  coast  of  Lesser  Asia; 
whose  inhabitants,  delivered  from  the  oppres- 
sion of  foreign  mercenaries,  resumed  their 
wonted  spirit  and  activity ; and  except  in  pay- 
ing, conjunctly  with  several  neighbouring  pro- 
vinces, an  annual  contribution  of  about  a hun- 
dred thousand  pounds,  the  Asiatic  Greeks  were 
scarcely  subjected  to  any  proof  of  dependence. 
Disputes  concerning  the  succession  to  the  uni- 
versal empire  of  the  east,  the  revolt  of  Egypt, 
and  the  death  of  Darius,  retarded  for  ten  years 
the  resolution  formed  by  that  prince,  and  adopt- 
ed by  his  son  and  successor  Xerxes,  of  restoring 
the  lustre  of  the  Persian  arms,  not  only  by 
taking  vengeance  on  the  pertinacious  obstinacy 
of  the  Athenians,  but  by  effecting  the  complete 
conquest  of  Europe.3  We  shall  have  occasion 
fully  to  describe  the  immense  preparations 
which  were  made  for  this  purpose ; but  it  is 


1 Herodot.  1.  vi.  c.  cxi.  et  seq. 

2 Philostrat.  in  Vit.  Apollon. 

3 Herodot.  1.  vii.  c.  L et.  ii 


[Chap. 

necessary  first  to  examine  the  transactions  of 
the  Greeks,  during  the  important  interval  be- 
tween the  battle  of  Marathon  and  the  expedi- 
tion of  Xerxes  ; and  to  explain  the  principal 
circumstances  which  enabled  a country,  neither 
wealthy  nor  populous,  to  resist  the  most  for- 
midable invasion  recorded  in  history. 

The  joy  excited  among  the  Athenians  by  a 
victory,  which  not  only  delivered  them  from 
the  dread  of  their  enemies,  but  raised  them  to 
distinguished  pre-eminence  among  their  rivals 
and  allies,  is  evident  from  a remarkable  inci- 
dent which  happened  immediately  after  the 
battle.  As  soon  as  fortune  had  visibly  declared 
in  their  favour,  a soldier  was  dispatched  from  the 
army  to  convey  the  welcome  news  to  the  capital. 
He  ran  with  incredible  velocity,  and  appeared, 
covered  with  dust  and  blood,  in  the  presence 
of  the  senators.  Excess  of  fatigue  conspired 
with  the  transports  of  enthusiasm  to  exhaust 
the  vigour  of  his  frame.  He  had  only  time  to 
exclaim,  in  two  words,  Rejoice  with  the  victors ,* 
and  immediately  expired. 

It  is  probable  that  the  same  spirit  which  ani- 
mated this  nameless  patriot,  was  speedily  dif- 
fused through  the  whole  community ; and  the 
Athenian  institutions  were  well  calculated  to 
keep  alive  the  generous  ardour  which  success 
had  inspired.  Part  of  the  spoil  was  gratefully 
dedicated  to  the  gods ; the  remainder  was  ap- 
propriated as  the  just  reward  of  merit.  The 
obsequies  of  the  dead  were  celebrated  with 
solemn  pomp;  and  according  to  an  ancient  and 
sacred  custom,  their  fame  was  commemorated 
by  annual  returns  of  festive  magnificence.4 5 
The  honours  bestowed  on  those  who  had  fallen 
in  the  field,  reflected  additional  lustre  on  their 
companions  who  survived  the  victory.  In  ex- 
tensive kingdoms,  the  praise  of  successful  va- 
lour is  weakened  by  diffusion  ; and  such  too  is 
the  inequality  between  the  dignity  of  the  gene- 
ral and  the  meanness  of  the  soldier,  that  the 
latter  can  seldom  hope  to  attain,  however  well 
he  may  deserve,  his  just  proportion  of  military 
fame.6  But  the  Grecian  republics  were  small ; 
a perpetual  rivalship  subsisted  among  them; 
and  when  any  particular  state  eclipsed  the 
glory  of  its  neighbours,  the  superiority  was 
sensibly  felt  by  every  member  of  the  common- 
wealth. 

That  pre-eminence,  which  by  the  battle  of 
Marathon,  Athens  acquired  in  Greece,  Mil- 
tiades,  by  his  peculiar  merit  in  that  battle,  at- 
tained in  Athens.  His  valour  and  conduct 
were  celebrated  by  the  artless  praises  of  the 
vulgar,  as  well  as  by  the  more  elaborate  enco- 
miums of  the  learned.  Before  the  era  of  this 
celebrated  engagement,  tragedy,  the  unrivalled 
distinction  of  Athenian  literature,  had  been  in- 
vented and  cultivated  by  the  successful  labours 
of  Thespis,  Phrynicus,  and  iEschylus.  The 
last,  who  is  justly  regarded  as  the  great  im- 
prover of  the  Grecian  drama,  displayed  in  the 
battle  of  Marathon  the  same  martial  ardour 
which  still  breathes  in  his  poetry.  We  may 

4 X* ifs-rs  zxieopsv. 

5 Diodor.  Sic.  I.  xi.  Herodot.  ubi  supra. 

6 Plutarch,  in  Cimon.  p.  187.  et  ASschin.  advers.  Ctesi- 
phont.  p 301.  furnish  us  with  examples  of  the  jealousy  of 
the  Greeks,  lest  the  fame  due  to  their  troops  in  general 

I should  be  engrossed  by  the  commanders. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


109 


IX.] 

reasonably  imagine  that  he  would  employ  the 
highest  flights  of  his  fancy  in  extolling  the 
glory  of  exploits  in  which  he  had  himself 
borne  so  distinguished  a part ; and  particularly 
that  he  would  exert  all  the  powers  of  his  lofty 
genius  in  celebrating  the  hero  and  patriot, 
whose  enthusiasm  had  animated  the  battle,  p.nd 
whose  superior  talents  had  insured  the  victory. 
The  name  of  the  conqueror  at  Marathon  re- 
echoed through  the  spacious  theatres  of  Athens, 
which,  though  they  had  not  yet  acquired  that 
solid  and  durable  composition  still  discernible  in 
the  ruins  of  ancient  grandeur,  were  already  built 
in  a form  sufficiently  capacious  to  contain  the 
largest  proportion  of  the  citizens.  The  mag- 
nificent encomiums  bestowed  on  Miltiades  in 
the  presence  of  his  assembled  countrymen,  by 
whose  consenting  voice  they  were  repeated 
and  approved,  fired  with  emulation  the  young 
candidates  for  fame,  while  they  enabled  the 
general  to  obtain  that  mark  of  public  confi- 
dence and  esteem  which  was  the  utmost  am- 
bition of  all  the  Grecian  leaders. 

These  leaders,  while  they  remained  within 
the  territories  of  their  respective  states,  were 
entrusted  (as  we  already  had  occasion  to  ob- 
serve) with  only  that  moderate  authority  which 
suited  the  equal  condition  of  freedom.  But 
when  they  were  appointed  to  the  command  of 
the  fleet  in  foreign  parts,  they  obtained  almost 
unlimited  power,  and  might  acquire  immense 
riches.  To  this  exalted  station  Miltiades  was 
advanced  by  the  general  suffrage  of  his  coun- 
try ; and  having  sailed  with  a fleet  of  seventy 
gallies,  the  whole  naval  strength  of  the  repub- 
lic, he  determined  to  expel  the  Persian  garri- 
sons from  the  isles  of  the  iEgean  ; to  reduce  the 
smaller  communities  to  the  obedience  of  Athens, 
and  to  subject  the  more  wealthy  and  powerful 
to  heavy  contributions. 

The  first  operations  of  the  Athenian  arma- 
ment were  crowned  with  success : several 
islands  were  subdued,  considerable  sums  of 
money  were  collected.  But  the  fleet  arriving 
before  Paros,  every  thing  proved  adverse  to  the 
Athenians.  Miltiades,  who  had  received  a 
personal  injury  from  Tisagoras,  a man  of  great 
authority  in  that  island,  yielded  to  the  dictates 
of  private  resentment,  and  confounding  the  in- 
nocent with  the  guilty,  demanded  from  the  Pa- 
rians the  sum  of  a hundred  talents  (near  twenty 
thousand  pounds  sterling.)  If  the  money  were 
not  immediately  paid,  he  threatened  to  lay 
waste  their  territory,  to  burn  their  city,  and  to 
teach  them  by  cruel  experience  the  stern  rights 
of  a conqueror.  The  exorbitancy  of  the  de- 
mand rendered  compliance  with  it  impossible  ; 
the  Parians  prepared  for  their  defence,  guided 
however  by  the  motives  of  a generous  despair, 
rather  than  by  any  well-grounded  hope  of  re- 
sisting the  invaders.  For  twenty-six  days  they 
maintained  possession  of  the  capital  of  the 
island,  which  the  Athenians,  after  ravaging  all 
the  adjacent  country,  besieged  by  sea  and  land. 
The  time  now  approached  when  Paros  must 
have  surrendered  to  a superior  force ; but  it 
was  the  good  fortune  of  the  islanders  that  an 
extensive  grove,  which  happened  to  be  set  on 
fire  in  one  of  the  Sporades,  was  believed  by 
the  besiegers  to  indicate  the  approach  of  a Per- 


sian fleet.  The  same  opinion  gained  ground 
among  the  Parians,  who  determined,  by  their 
utmost  efforts,  to  preserve  the  place,  until  they 
should  be  relieved  by  the  assistance  of  their 
protectors.  Miltiades  had  received  a danger- 
ous wound  during  the  siege ; and  the  weakness 
of  his  body  impairing  the  faculties  of  his  mind, 
and  rendering  him  too  sensible  to  the  impres- 
sions of  fear,  he  gave  orders  to  draw  off  his 
victorious  troops,  and  returned  with  the  whole 
fleet  to  Athens. 

His  conduct  in  the  present  expedition  ill 
corresponded  to  his  former  fame  ; and  he  soon 
experienced  the  instability  of  popular  favour. 
The  Athenian  citizens,  and  particularly  tjyfe 
more  eminent  and  illustrious,  had  universally 
their  rivals  and  enemies.  The  competitions 
for  civil  offices,  or  military  command,  occa- 
sioned eternal  animosities  among  those  jealous 
republicans.  Xantippus,  a person  of  great  dis- 
tinction, and  father  of  the  celebrated  Pericles, 
who  in  the  succeeding  age  obtained  the  first 
rank  in  the  Athenian  government,  eagerly 
seized  an  opportunity  of  depressing  the  cha- 
racter of  a man  which  had  so  long  overtopped 
that  of  every  competitor.  Miltiades  was  ac- 
cused of  being  corrupted  by  a Persian  bribe  to 
raise  the  siege  of  Paros ; the  precipitancy  with 
which  he  abandoned  the  place,  so  unlike  to  the 
general  firmness  of  his  manly  behaviour,  gave 
a probable  colour  to  the  accusation ; and  the 
continual  terror  which,  ever  since  the  usurpa- 
tion of  Pisistratus,  the  Athenians  entertained 
of  arbitrary  power,  disposed  them  to  condemn, 
upon  very  slight  evidence,  a man  whose  abili- 
ties and  renown  seemed  to  endanger  the  safety 
of  the  commonwealth.  The  crime  laid  to  his 
charge  inferred  death,  a punishment  which  his 
accuser  insisted  ought  to  be  immediately  in- 
flicted on  him.  But  his  judges  were  content- 
ed with  fining  him  the  sum  of  fifty  talents, 
(near  ten  thousand  pounds  sterling,)  which 
being  unable  to  pay,  he  was  thrown  into  pri- 
son, where  he  soon  after  died  of  his  wounds. 

But  the  glory  of  Miltiades  survived  him  ; 
and  the  Athenians,  however  unjust  to  his  per- 
son, were  not  unmindful  of  his  fame.  At  the 
distance  of  half  a century,  when  the  battle  of 
Marathon  was  painted  by  order  of  the  state, 
they  directed  the  figure  of  Miltiades  to  be 
placed  in  the  fore-ground,  animating  the  troops 
to  victory  : a reward  which,  during  the  virtuous 
simplicity  of  the  ancient  commonwealth,  con- 
ferred more  real  honour,  than  all  that  magnifi- 
cent profusion  of  crowns  and  statues,7  which  in 
the  later  times  of  the  republic  were  rather  ex- 
torted by  general  fear,  than  bestowed  by  pub- 
lic admiration. 

The  jealousies,  resentments,  dangers,  and  ca- 
lamities, which  often  attend  power  and  pre- 
eminence, have  never  yet  proved  sufficient  to 
deter  an  ambitious  mind  from  the  pursuit  of 
greatness.  The  rivals  of  Miltiades  were  ani- 
mated by  the  glory  of  his  elevation,  not  de- 
pressed by  the  example  of  his  fall.  His  accuser 
Xantippus,  though  he  had  acted  the  principal 
part  in  removing  this  favourite  of  the  people, 
was  not  deemed  worthy  to  succeed  him.  Two 


7 ^schin.  p.  301.  et  Polybius  passim 


110 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


candidates  appeared  for  the  public  confidence 
and  esteem,  who  alternately  outstripped  each 
other  in  the  race  of  ambition,  and  whose  cha- 
racters deserve  attention  even  in  general  his- 
tory, as  they  had  a powerful  influence  on  the 
fortune,  not  of  Athens  only,  but  of  all  Greece. 

Aristides  and  Themistocles  were  nearly  of 
the  same  age,  and  equally  noble,  being  born  in 
the  first  rank  of  citizens,  though  not  of  royal 
descent,  like  Solon  and  Pisistratus,  Isagoras 
and  Clisthenes,  Xantippus  and  Miltiades,  who 
had  hitherto  successively  assumed  the  chief 
administration  of  the  Athenian  republic.  Both 
had  been  named  among  the  generals  who  com- 
manded in  the  battle  of  Marathon.  The  disin- 
terested behaviour  of  Aristides  on  this  memo- 
rable occasion  has  been  already  mentioned.  It 
afforded  a promise  of  his  future  fame.  But  his 
dawning  glories  were  still  eclipsed  by  the  me- 
ridian lustre  of  Miltiades.  After  the  death  of 
this  great  man,  Aristides  ought  naturally  to 
have  succeeded  to  his  influence,  as  he  was 
eminently  distinguished  by  valour  and  mode- 
ration, the  two  great  virtues  of  a republican. 
Formed  in  such  schools  of  moral  and  political 
knowledge  as  then  flourished  in  Athens,  he  had 
learned  to  prefer  glory  to  pleasure  ; the  interests 
of  his  country  to  his  own  personal  glory  ; and 
the  dictates  of  justice  and  humanity,  even  to 
the  interests  of  hjs  country.  His  ambition  was 
rather  to  deserve,  than  to  acquire,  the  admira- 
tion of  his  fellow  citizens  ; and  while  he  en- 
joyed the  inward  satisfaction,  he  was  little 
anxious  about  the  external  rewards  of  virtue. 
The  character  of  Themistocles  was  of  a more 
doubtful  kind.  The  trophy,  which  Miltiades 
had  raised  at  Marathon,  disturbed  his  rest.  He 
was  inflamed  with  a desire  to  emulate  the  glory 
of  this  exploit ; and  while  he  enabled  Athens 
to  maintain  a superiority  in  Greece,  he  was 
ambitious  to  acquire  for  himself  a superiority 
in  Athens.  His  talents  were  well  adapted  to 
accomplish  both  these  purposes ; eloquent,  ac- 
tive, enterprising,  he  had  strengthened  his  na- 
tural endowments  by  all  the  force  of  education 
and  habit.  Laws,  government,  revenue,  and 
arms,  every  branch  of  political  and  military 
knowledge,  were  the  great  objects  of  his  study. 
In  the  courts  of  justice  he  successfully  display- 
ed his  abilities  in  defence  of  his  private  friends, 
or  in  accusing  the  enemies  of  the  state.  He 
was  forward  to  give  his  opinion  upon  every 
matter  of  public  deliberation  ; and  his  advice, 
founded  in  wisdom,  and  supported  by  elo- 
quence, commonly  prevailed  in  the  assem- 
bly. Yet  with  all  these  great  qualities,  his 
mind  was  less  smit  with  the  native  charms  of 
virtue,  than  captivated  with  her  splendid  orna- 
ments. Glory  was  the  idol  which  he  adored. 
He  could  injure,  without  remorse,  the  general 
cause  of  the  confederacy,  in  order  to  promote 
the  grandeur  of  Athens;1  and  history  still 
leaves  it  as  doubtful,  as  did  his  own  conduct, 
whether,  had  an  opportunity  offered,  he  would 
not  have  sacrificed  the  happiness  of  his  country 
to  his  private  interest  and  ambition. 

The  discernment  of  Aristides  perceived  the 
danger  of  allowing  a man  of  such  equivocal 


[Chap. 

merit  to  be  entrusted  with  the  sole  government 
of  the  republic;  and  on  this  account,  rather 
than  from  any  motives  of  personal  animosity, 
he  opposed  every  measure  that  might  contri- 
bute to  his  elevation.  In  this  patriotic  view,  he 
frequently  solicited  the  same  honours  which 
were  ambitiously  courted  by  Themistocles,  es- 
pecially when  no  other  candidate  appeared 
capable  of  balancing  the  credit  of  the  latter.  A 
rivalship  thus  began,  and  long  continued  be- 
tween them  ;2  and  the  whole  people  of  Athens 
could  alone  decide  the  much  contested  pre- 
eminence. The  interest  of  Themistocles  so  far 
prevailed  over  the  authority  of  his  opponent, 
that  he  procured  his  own  nomination  to  the 
command  of  the  fleet ; with  which  he  effected 
the  conquest  of  the  small  islands  in  the  iEgean, 
and  thus  completed  the  design  undertaken  by 
Miltiades.  While  he  acquired  fame  and  fortune 
abroad,  Aristides  increased  his  popularity  at 
home.  The  opposition  to  his  power,  arising 
from  the  splendid  eloquence  and  popular  man- 
ners of  his  rival,  was  now  fortunately  removed, 
and  he  became  the  chief  leader  of  the  people. 
His  opinion  gave  law  to  the  courts  of  justice, 
or  rather  such  was  the  effect  of  his  equity  and 
discernment,  he  alone  became  sovereign  um- 
pire in  Athens.  In  all  important  differences 
he  was  chosen  arbitrator,  and  the  ordinary 
judges  were  deprived  of  the  dignity  and  ad- 
vantages formerly  resulting  from  their  office. 
This  consequence  of  his  authority,  offending 
the  pride  of  the  Athenian  magistrates,  was 
sufficient  to  excite  their  resentment,  which,  of 
itself,  might  have  effected  the  ruin  of  any  indi- 
vidual. 

Ql  But  their  views  on  this  occasion 

lxxiii^3  were  powerfully  promoted  by  the 
A C 486  triumphant  return  of  Themistocles 
' from  his  naval  expedition.  The 
admiral  had  acquired  considerable  riches  ; but 
wealth  he  despised,  except  as  an  instrument  of 
ambition.  The  spoils  of  the  conquered  islanders 
were  profusely  lavished  in  shows,  festivals, 
dances,  and  theatrical  entertainments,  exhi- 
bited for  the  public  amusement.  His  generous 
manners  and  flowing  affability  were  contrasted 
with  the  stern  dignity  of  his  rival ; and  the  re- 
sult of  the  comparison  added  great  force  to  his 
insinuation,  that,  since  his  own  necessary  ab- 
sence in  the  service  of  the  republic,  Aristides 
had  acquired  a degree  of  influence  inconsistent 
with  the  constitution  ; and,  by  arrogating  to 
himself  a universal  and  unexampled  jurisdic- 
tion in  the  state,  had  established  a silent  ty- 
ranny, without  pomp  or  guards,  over  the  minds 
of  his  fellow  citizens.  Aristides,  trusting  to 
the  innocence  and  integrity  of  his  own  heart, 
disdained  to  employ  any  unworthy  means, 
either  for  gaining  the  favour,  or  for  averting  the 
resentment,  of  the  multitude.  The  contest, 
therefore,  ended  in  his  banishment  for  ten 
years,  by  a law  entitled  the  Ostracism  (from 
the  name  of  the  materials3  on  which  the  votes 
were  marked,)  by  which  the  majority  of  the 
Athenian  assembly  might  expel  any  citizen, 
however  inoffensive  or  meritorious  had  been 


1 Plutarch,  in  Themistocle  et  Aristide. 


2 Plutarch,  ibid.  Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  lxxix. 

3 OrrgxKOV)  a shell. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Ill 


IX.] 

his  past  conduct,  who,  by  his  present  power  and 
greatness,  seemed  capable  of  disturbing  the 
equality  of  republican  government.  This  sin- 
gular institution,  which  had  been  established 
soon  after  the  Athenians  had  delivered  them- 
selves from  the  tyranny  of  Hippias,  the  son  of 
Pisistratus,  was  evidently  intended  to  prevent 
any  person  in  future  from  attaining  the  same 
unlawful  authority.  At  Athens,  even  virtue 
was  proscribed,  when  it  seemed  to  endanger 
the  public  freedom ; and  only  four  years  after 
the  battle  of  Marathon,  in  which  he  had  dis- 
played equal  valour  and  wisdom,  Aristides,  the 
justest  and  most  respecfable  of  the  Greeks, 
became  the  victim  of  popular  jealousy  ;4  an 
example  of  cruel  rigour,  which  will  for  ever 
brand  the  spirit  of  democratical  policy. 

The  banishment  of  Aristides  exposed  the 
Athenians  still  more  than  formerly  to  the  dan- 
ger which  they  hoped  to  avoid  by  this  severe 
measure.  The  removal  of  such  a formidable 
opponent  enabled  Themistocles  to  govern  with- 
out control.  Army,  navy,  and  revenue,  all 
were  submitted  to  his  inspection.  It  happened, 
indeed,  most  fortunately  for  the  fame  of  this 
great  man,  as  well  as  for  the  liberty  of  Athens, 
that  his  active  a^nbition  was  called  to  the  glo- 
rious task  of  subduing  the  enemies  of  his  coun- 
try. The  smaller  islands  in  the  iEgean  were 
already  reduced  to  obedience,  but  the  posses- 
sion of  them  was  uncertain  while  the  fleet  of 
JEgina  covered  the  sea,  and  bid  defiance  to 
that  of  the  Athenians.  This  small  island,  or 
rather  this  rock,  inhabited  time  immemorial  by 
merchants  and  pirates,  and  situate  in  the  Sa- 
ronic gulf,  which  divides  the  territories  of  At- 
tica from  the  northern  shores  of  Peloponnesus, 
was  a formidable  enemy  to  the  republic  ; the 
jealousy  of  commerce  and  naval  power  embit- 
tered their  mutual  hostility  ; and  as  the  inha- 
bitants of  iEgina,  who  were  governed  by  a few 
leading  men,  had  entered  into  an  alliance  with 
the  Persians,  there  was  every  circumstance 
united  which  could  provoke,  to  the  utmost,  the 
hatred  and  resentment  of  the  Athenians. 

A motive  less  powerful  than  the  excess  of 
republican  antipathy,  could  not  probably  have 
prevailed  on  them  to  embrace  the  measure 
which  they  now  adopted  by  the  advice  of  The- 
rnistocles.  There  was  a considerable  revenue 
arising  from  the  silver  mines  of  Mount  Lau- 
rium,  which  had  been  hitherto  employed  in 
relieving  the  private  wants  of  the  citizens,  or 
dissipated  in  their  public  amusements.  This 
annual  income  Themistocles  persuaded  them 
to  destine  to  the  useful  purpose  of  building 
ships  of  war,  by  which  they  might  seize  or  de- 
stroy the  fleet  of  jEgina.  The  proposal  was 
approved  ; a hundred  galleys  were  equipped  ; 
the  naval  strength  of  iEgina  was  broken,  and 
success  aniinated  the  Athenians  to  aspire  at 
obtaining  the  unrivalled  empire  of  the  sea. 
Corcyra  formed  the  only  remaining  obstacle  to 
their  ambition.  This  island  which,  under  the 
name  of  Phceacia,  is  celebrated  by  Homer  for 
its  amazing  riches  and  fertility,  had  been  still 
further  improved  by  a colony  of  Corinthians. 
It  extends  a hundred  miles  along  the  western 


shores  of  Epirus ; and  the  natural  abundance 
of  its  productions,  the  convenience  of  its  har- 
bours, and  the  adventurous  spirit  of  its  new 
inhabitants,  gave  them  an  undisputed  advan- 
tage over  their  neighbours,  in  navigation  and 
commerce.  They  became  successively  the 
rivals,  the  enemies,  and  the  superiors  of  Co- 
rinth, their  mother  country ; and  their  suc- 
cessful cruisers  infested  the  coasts,  and  disturb- 
ed the  communication  of  the  islands  and  con- 
tinent of  Greece.  It  belonged  to  Athens,  who 
had  so  lately  punished  the  perfidy  of  iEgina, 
to  chastise  the  insolence  of  the  Corcyreans. 
The  naval  depredations  of  these  islanders 
made" them  be  regarded  as  common  enemies; 
and  Themistocles,5  when,  by  seizing  part  of 
their  fleet,  he  broke  the  sinews  of  their  power, 
not  only  gratified  the  ambition  of  his  republic, 
but  performed  a signal  service  to  the  whole 
Gr'-cian  confederacy. 

Victorious  by  sea  and  land  against  Greeks 
ana  Barbarians,  Athens  might  now  seem  enti- 
tled to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  a glorious  security. 
It  was  generally  believed  in  Greece,  that  the 
late  disaster  of  the  Persians  would  deter  them 
from  invading,  a second  time,  the  coasts  of 
Europe.  But  Themistocles,  who,  in  the  words 
of  a most  accomplished  historian,6  was  no  less 
sagacious  in  foreseeing  the  future,  than  skilful 
in  managing  the  present,  regarded  the  battle 
of  Marathon,  not  as  the  end  of  the  war,  but  as 
the  prelude  to  new  and  more  glorious  combats. 
He  continually  exhorted  his  fellow  citizens  to 
keep  themselves  in  readiness  for  action  ; above 
all,  to  increase,  with  unremitting  assiduity,  the 
strength  of  their  fleet ; and,  in  consequence  of 
this  judicious  advice,  the  Athenians*  were 
enabled  to  oppose  the  immense  armaments  of 
Xerxes,  of  which  the  most  formidable  tidings 
soon  arrived  from  every  quarter,  with  two  hun- 
dred galleys,  of  a superior  size  and  construction 
to  any  hitherto  known  in  Greece.7 

This  fleet  proved  the  safety  of  Greece,  and 
prevented  a country,  from  which  the  know- 
ledge of  laws,  learning,  and  civility,  was  des- 
tined to  flow  over  Europe,  from  becoming  a 
province  of  the  Persian  empire,  and  being  con- 
founded with  the  mass  of  barbarous  nations. 
While  the  Athenians  were  led,  by  the  circum- 
stances which  we  have  endeavoured  to  explain, 
to  prepare  this  useful  engine  of  defence,  the 
other  Grecian  states  afford,  in  their  unimpor- 
tant transactions,  few  materials  for  history.6 
The  Spartans  had  long  preserved  an  unrivalled 
ascendant  in  Peloponnesus ; and  their  pre- 
eminence was  still  farther  confirmed  by  the  un- 
equal and  unfortunate  opposition  of  the  Ar- 
gives.  Many  bloody  and  desperate  engage- 
ments had  been  fought  between  these  warlike 
and  high-spirited  rivals  : but,  before  the  Per- 
sian invasion,  the  strength  of  Argos  was  much 
exhausted  by  repeated  defeats,  particularly  by 
the  destructive  battle  of  Thynea,  in  which  she 
lost  six  thousand  of  her  bravest  citizens.  The 
Spartans  also  carried  on  occasional  hostilities 


5 Plutarch  in  Themist.  Thucydiil.  lib.  i.  Corn.  Nopos.  in 
Themist. 

6 Thucydides,  ibid. 

7 Plato,  I.  iii.  dc  Lepr. 

8 Ilcrod.  1.  vii.  Diodor.  1.  xi. 


4 Plutarch  et  Hcrodot.  1.  viii.  c.  Ixxix. 


112 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


against  the  Corinthians  and  Achseans,  the 
inhabitants  of  Elis  and  Arcadia;  and  these 
several  republics  frequently  decided  their  pre- 
tensions in  the  field ; but  neither  their  contests 
with  each  other,  nor  their  wars  with  Sparta, 
were  attended  with  any  considerable  or  perma- 
nent effects.  Their  perpetual  hostilities  with 
foreign  states  ought  to  have  given  internal 
quiet  to  the  Spartans ; yet  the  jealousy  of 
power,  or  the  opposition  of  character,  occasion- 
ed incurable  dissension  between  the  two  first 
magistrates  of  the  republic,  Cleomenes  and 
Demaratus.  By  the  intrigues  of  the  former, 
his  rival  was  unjustly  deposed  from  the  royal 
dignity.  Leotychides,  his  kinsman  and  suc- 
cessor in  the  throne,  insulted  his  misfortunes ; 
and  Demaratus,  unable  to  endure  contempt  in 
a country  where  he  had  enjoyed  a crown, 
sought  for  that  protection  which  was  denied 
him  in  Greece,  from  the  power  and  resentment 
of  Persia.  Cleomenes  soon  afterwards  died  by 
his  own  hand,  after  vainly  struggling  against 
the  stings  of  remorse,  which  persecuted  his  un- 
generous treatment  of  a worthy  colleague.1  He 
was  succeeded  by  the  heroic  Leonidas,  whose 
death  (as  shall  be  related)  at  Thermopyl8e,was 
still  more  illustrious  and  happy  than  that  of 
Cleomenes  was  wretched  and  infamous.  Dur- 
ing the  domestic  disturbances  of  Sparta,  the 
other  states  of  Peloponnesus  enjoyed  a relaxa- 
tion from  the  toils  of  war.  The  Arcadians  and 
Argives  tended  their  flocks,  and  cultivated  their 
soil.  Elis  was  contented  with  the  superin- 
tendence of  the  Olympic  games : the  Corin- 
thians increased  and  abused  the  wealth  which 
they  had  already  acquired  by  their  fortunate 
situation  between  two  seas,  and  by  long  con- 
tinuing the  centre  of  the  internal  commerce  of 
Greece.  Of  the  republics  beyond  the  isthmus, 
the  Phocians  wished  to  enjoy,  in  tranquillity, 
the  splendour  and  riches  which  their  whole  ter- 
ritory derived  from  the  celebrated  temple  of 
Delphi.  They  were  frequently  disturbed,  how- 
ever, by  invasions  from  Thessaly  ; the  inhabi- 
tants of  which,  though  numerous  and  warlike, 
yet  being  situated  at  the  extremity  of  Greece, 
still  continued,  like  the  Etolians,  barbarous 
and  uncultivated.2  The  Thebans  maintained 
and  extended  their  usurpations  over  the  smaller 
cities  of  Boeotia,  and  rejoiced  that  the  ambition 
of  the  Athenians,  directed  to  the  command  of 
the  sea,  and  the  conquest  of  distant  islands, 
prevented  that  aspiring  people  from  giving  the 
same  minute  attention  as  usual  to  the  affairs 
of  the  continent.  The  other  republics  were 
inconsiderable,  and  commonly  followed  the  for- 
tunes of  their  more  powerful  neighbours.  The 
Asiatic  colonies  were  reduced  under  the  Per- 
sian yoke  ; the  Greek  establishments  in  Thrace 
and  Macedon  paid  tribute  to  Xerxes ; but  the 
African  Greeks  bravely  maintained  their  inde- 
pendence ; and  the  flourishing  settlements  in 
Italy  and  Sicily  were  now  acting  a part  which 
will  be  explained  hereafter,  and  which  rivalled, 
perhaps  surpassed,  the  glory  of  Athens  and 
Sparta  in  the  Persian  war.3 


1 Herodot.  v.  75. 

2 Thucydid.  1.  i. 

3 Diodor.  1.  xi.  c.  xvi.  et  xvii 


[Chap. 

Meanwhile  the  reduction  of  re- 
lxxiv^  volted  provinces  had  given  employ- 
A C*  481  ment  an(^  lustre  t0  the  Persian 
arms.  Nine  years  after  the  baltle 
of  Marathon,  and  in  the  fourth  year  of  his 
reign,  Xerxes  found  himself  uncontrolled  mas- 
ter of  the  East,  and  in  possession  of  such  a fleet 
and  army  as  flattered  him  with  the  hopes  of 
universal  empire.  The  three  last  years  of 
Darius  were  spent  in  preparing  for  the  Grecian 
expedition.  Xerxes,  who  succeeded  to  his 
sceptre  and  to  his  revenge,  dedicated  four  years 
more  to  the  same  hostile  purpose.  Amidst  his 
various  wars  and  pleasures,  he  took  care  that 
the  artisans  of  Egypt  and  Phoenicia,  as  well  as 
of  all  the  maritime  provinces  of  Lower  Asia, 
should  labour,  with  unremitting  diligence,  in 
fitting  out  an  armament  adequate  to  the  extent 
of  his  ambition.  Twelve  hundred  ships  of 
war,  and  three  thousand  ships  of  burden,  were 
at  length  ready  to  receive  his  commands.  The 
former  were  of  a larger  size  and  firmer  con- 
struction than  any  hitherto  seen  in  the  ancient 
world  : they  carried  on  board,  at  a medium, 
two  hundred  seamen,  and  thirty  Persians  who 
served  as  marines.  The  ships  of  burden  con- 
tained, in  general,  eighty  men,  fewer  being 
found  incapable  of  rowing  them.  The  whole 
amounted  to  four  thousand  two  hundred  ships, 
and  about  five  hundred  thousand  men,  who 
were  ordered  to  rendezvous  in  the  most  secure 
roads  and  harbours  of  Ionia.  We  are  not 
exactly  informed  of  the  number  of  the  land 
forces,  which  were  assembled  at  Susa.  It  is 
certain,  • however,  that  they  were  extremely 
numerous,  and  it  is  probable  that  they  would 
continually  increase  on  the  march  from  Susa  to 
Sardis,  by  the  confluence  of  many  tributary 
nations,  to  the  imperial  standard  of  Xerxes. 

When  the  army  had  attained  its  perfect  com- 
plement, we  are  told  that  it  consisted  of  seven- 
teen hundred  thousand  infantry,  and  four  hun- 
dred thousand  cavalry  ; which,  joined  to  the 
fleet  above  mentioned,  made  the  whole  forces 
amount  to  near  two  millions  of  fighting  men. 
An  immense  crowd  of  women  and  eunuchs 
followed  the  camp  of  an  effeminate  people. 
These  instruments  of  pleasure  and  luxury, 
together  with  the  slaves  necessary  in  trans- 
porting the  baggage  and  provisions,  equalled, 
perhaps  exceeded,4  the  number  of  soldiers ; so 
that,  according  to  the  universal  testimony  of 
ancient  historians,  the  army  of  Xerxes  appears 
the  greatest  that  was  ever  collected.5 

But  many  circumstances  serve  to  prove  that 
its  strength  by  no  means  corresponded  to  its 
magnitude.  The  various  nations  which  com- 
posed it,  were  not  divided  into  regular  bodies, 

4 A military  friend  has  favoured  me  with  the  actual  re- 
turn of  an  army  serving  under  British  officers  in  the  East : 

Officers  and  troops,  - - * - 6,727 

Servants  and  followers,  - 19,779 

5 Herodot.  1.  vii.  c.  lxxxix.  et  seq.  enters  into  a circum 
stantial  detail  of  the  Persian  forces.  His  account  is  con 
firmed,  with  less  difference  than  usual  in  such  cases,  by 
Lysias  Orat.  Funeb.  Isocrat.  Panegyr.  Diodor.  I.  xi.  p. 
244.  He  repeatedly  expresses  his  astonishment  at  the  im- 
mensity of  the  Barbarian  hosts.  He  appears  fully  sensible 
of  the  difficulties  with  which  they  had  to  struggle,  in  order 
to  procure  provisions.  His  account  of  the  Grecian  fleet 
and  army  is  acknowledged  to  be  faithful  and  exact  in  the 
highest  degree;  circumstances  which  All  strongly  confirm 
the  credibility  of  his  evidence. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


113 


IX.] 

properly  disciplined  and  officered.  Their  mus- 
ter-roll was  taken  in  a manner  that  is  remark- 
able for  its  simplicity.  Ten  thousand  men 
were  separated  from  the  rest,  formed  into  a 
compact  body,  and  surrounded  by  a palisade. 
The  whole  army  passed  successively  into  this 
aiclosure,  and  were  thus  numbered,  like  cattle, 
without  the  formality  of  placing  them  in  ranks, 
or  of  calling  their  names. 

Xerxes,  having  wintered  at  Sardis,  sent  am- 
bassadors early  in  the  spring  to  demand  earth 
and  water,  as  a mark  of  submission,  from  the 
several  Grecian  republics.  With 
f * regard  to  Athens  and  Sparta,  he 

AXC  480  thouSht  ^ unnecessary  to  observe 
this  ceremony,  as  they  had  treated, 
with  the  most  inhuman  cruelty,  and  in  direct 
contradiction  to  their  own  laws  of  war,  the  mes- 
sengers intrusted  with  a similar  commission  by 
his  father  Darius.  The  slow  march  of  his  im- 
mense army,  and,  still  more,  its  tedious  trans- 
portation across  the  seas  which  separate  Eu- 
rope and  Asia,  ill  suited  the  rapid  violence  of 
his  revenge.  Xerxes  therefore  ordered  a bridge 
of  boats  to  be  raised  on  the  Hellespont,  which, 
in  the  narrowest  part,  is  only  seven  stadia,  or 
seven  eighths  of  a mile  in  breadth.  Here  the 
bridge  was  formed  with  great  labour ; but 
whether  owing  to  the  awkwardness  of  its  con- 
struction, or  to  the  violence  of  a succeeding 
tempest,  it  was  no  sooner  built  than  destroyed. 
The  great  king  ordered  the  directors  of  the 
work  to  be  beheaded  ; and,  proud  of  his  tyran- 
nic power  over  feeble  man,  displayed  an  impo- 
tent rage  against  the  elements.  In  all  the 
madness  of  despotism,  he  commanded  the  Hel- 
lespont to  be  punished  with  three  hundred 
stripes,  and  a pair  of  fetters  to  be  dropped  into 
the  sea,  adding  these  frantic  and  ridiculous  ex- 
pressions : “ It  is  thus,  thou  salt  and  bitter 
water,  that  thy  master  punishes  thy  unprovoked 
injury,  and  he  is  determined  to  pass  thy  treach- 
erous streams  notwithstanding  all  the  insolence 
of  thy  malice.”6  After  this  absurd  ceremony, 
a new  bridge  was  made  of  a double  range  of 
vessels,  fixed  by  strong  anchors  on  both  sides, 
and  joined  together  by  cables  of  hemp  and 
reed,  fastened  to  immense  beams  driven  into 
the  opposite  shores.  The  decks  of  the  ves- 
sels, which  exceeded  six  hundred  in  number, 
were  strewed  with  trunks  of  trees  and  earth, 
and  their  surface  was  still  further  smoothed  by 
a covering  of  planks.  The  sides  were  then 
railed  with  wicker  work,  to  prevent  the  fear 
and  impatience  of  the  horses ; and  upon  this  sin- 
gular edifice  the  main  strength  of  the  army  pas- 
sed in  seven  days  and  nights,  from  the  Asiatic 
city  of  Abydos  to  that  of  Sestus  in  Europe.? 

But  before  this  general  transportation,  a con- 
siderable part  of  the  forces  had  been  already 
sent  to  the  coast  of  Macedonia,  in  order  to  dig 
across  the  isthmus  which  joins  to  that  coast  the 
high  promontory  of  Athos.  The  disaster  which 
befell  the  fleet  commanded  by  Mardonius,  in 
doubling  the  cape  of  this  celebrated  peninsula, 
was  still  present  to  the  mind  of  Xerxes.  The 
neck  of  land,  only  a mile  and  a half  in  breadth, 
was  adorned  by  the  Grecian  city  of  Sana ; and 


the  promontory  being  rich  and  fertile,  was  -well 
inhabited  by  both  Greeks  and  Barbarians.  The 
cutting  of  this  narrow  isthmus,  by  a canal  of 
sufficient  width  to  allow  two  gallies  to  sail 
abreast,  was  a matter  not  beyond  the  power  of 
a potentate  who  commanded  the  labour  of  so 
many  myriads  ;8  but  it  is  observed  by  Herodo- 
tus, to  have  been  a work  of  more  ostentation 
than  utility,  as  the  vessels  might,  according  to 
the  custom  of  the  age,  have  been  conveyed 
over  land  with  greater  expedition,  and  with 
less  trouble  and  expense.  The  eastern  work- 
men were  in  general  so  extremely  unacquaint- 
ed with  operations  of  this  kind,  that  they  made 
the  opening  at  the  surface  of  the  ground  of 
the  same  breadth  with  that  necessary  at  the 
bottom  of  the  channel.  In  order  to  excite 
their  diligence  by  national  emulation,  a parti- 
cular portion  of  the  ground  was  assigned  to 
each  distinction  of  people  engaged  in  this  un- 
dertaking. The  Phoenicians  alone,  by  giving 
a proper  width  at  the  top,  avoided  the  inconve- 
nience of  submitting  to  a double  labour.  In 
performing  this,  and  every  other  task,  the  sol- 
diers of  Xerxes  were  kept  to  their  work  by 
stripes  and  blows ; a circumstance  which  gives 
us  as  mean  an  opinion  of  their  spirit  and  acti- 
vity, as  all  that  has  been  already  related,  gives 
us  of  their  skill  and  discipline. 

The  Persian  forces  were  now  safely  conduct- 
ed into  Europe  ; and  the  chief  obstacle  to  .the 
easy  navigation  of  their  fleet  along  the  coasts 
of  Thrace,  Macedon,  and  Thessaly,  to  the  cen- 
tre of  the  Grecian  states,  was  removed  by  the 
dividing  of  mount  Athos.  Through  the  fertile 
plains  of  Lesser  Asia  the  whole  army  had  kept 
in  a body;  but  the  difficulty  of  supplies  obliged 
them  to  separate  into  three  divisions  in  their 
march  through  the  less  cultivated  countries  of 
Europe.  Before  this  separation  took  place,  the 
whole  fleet  ard  army  were  reviewed  by  Xerxes, 
near  Doriscus,  a city  of  Thrace,  at  the  mouth 
of  the  river  Hebrus.  Such  an  immense  collec- 
tion of  men  assembled  in  arms,  and  attended 
with  every  circumstance  of  material  magnifi- 
cence, gave  an  opportunity  for  seeing,  or  at  least 
for  supposing,  many  affecting  scenes.  The 
ambition  of  the  great  king  had  torn  him  from 
his  palace  of  Susa,  but  it  could  not  tear  him 
from  the  objects  of  his  affection,  and  the  minis- 
ters of  his  pleasure.  He  was  followed  by  his 
women,  and  by  his  flatterers,9  and  all  the  ef- 

8 Ilerodot.  1.  vii.  c.  xxi.  et  seq.  et  Diodor.  1.  xi.  c.  ii.  It 
is  difficult  to  say,  whether  we  ought  most  to  condemn 
the  swelling  exaggeration  with  which  Lysias,  Isocrates, 
and  other  writers,  speak  of  these  operations  of  Xerxes, 
which  they  call,  “navigating  the  land,  and  walking  tho 
sea,”  or  the  impudent  incredulity  of  Juvenal: 

creditur  olim 

Velificatus  Athos,  et  quidquid  Gra:cia  mendax^jift 

Audet  in  hisloria;  constratum  classibus  iisdem 

Suppositumque  rotis  solidum  mare. j 

Nothing  is  better  fitted  to  perpetuate  error  than  the  smart 
sentence  of  a satirist.  A line  of  the  same  Juvenal  has 
branded  Cicero  as  a bad  poet,  though  that  universal  literary 
genius  left  admirable  verses  behind  him,  which  have  been 
transmitted  to  modern  times.  The  digging  of  tho  canal  of 
Athos  is  supported  by  the  uniform  testimony  of  all  anti- 
quity, and  might  be  credited  on  the  single  evidence  of  Thu- 
cydides (I.  iv.  c.  cix.)  tho  most  faithful,  accurate,  and  im- 
partial of  all  historians,  ancient  or  modern  ; and  who 
himself  lived  long  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Athos,  whero 
ho  had  an  estate,  and  was  director  of  the  Athenian  mines 
in  Thrace  ; ns  will  appear  hereafter. 

9 Plato  de  Lcgibus,  1.  iii.  p.  53G. 


6 Ilerodot.  vii.  35. 

P 


7 Ilerodot.  1.  vii.  c.  lvi. 


114 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


fqminate  pride  of  a court  was  blended  with  the 
pomp  of  war.  While  the  great  body  of  the 
army  lay  every  night  in  the  open  air,  Xerxes 
and  his  attendants  were  provided  with  mag- 
nificent tents.  The  splendour  of  his  chariots, 
the  mettle  of  his  horses,  which  far  excelled  the 
swiftest  racers  of  Thessaly,  the  unexampled 
number  of  his  troops,  and  above  all,  the  bra- 
very of  the  immortal  band,  a body  of  ten  thou- 
sand Persian  cavalry,  so  named  because  their 
number  was  constantly  maintained  from  the 
flower  of  the  whole  army,  seemed  sufficient,  to 
the  admiring  crowd,  to  raise  the  glory  of  their 
sovereign  above  the  condition  of  humanity  ; 
especially  since,  among  so  many  thousands  of 
men  as  passed  in  review,  none  could  be  com- 
pared to  Xerxes  in  strength,  in  beauty,  or  in 
stature.1 

But  amidst  this  splendour  of  external  great- 
ness, Xerxes  felt  himself  unhappy.  Having 
ascended  an  eminence  to  view  his  camp  and 
fleet,  his  pride  was  humbled  with  the  reflec- 
tion, that  no  one  of  all  the  innumerable  host 
could  survive  a hundred  years.  The  haughty 
monarch  of  Asia  was  melted  into  tears.  The 
conversation  of  his  kinsman  and  counsellor, 
Artabanus,  was  ill  calculated  to  console  his 
melancholy.  That  respectable  old  man,  whose 
wisdom  had  often  moderated  the  youthful  ar- 
dour of  Xerxes,  and  who  had  been  as  assiduous 
to  prevent,  as  Mardonius  had  been  to  promote, 
the  Grecian  war,  took  notice  that  the  misery 
of  human  life  was  an  object  far  more  lamenta- 
ble than  its  shortness.  “ In  the  narrow  space 
allotted  them,  has  not  every  one  of  these  in  our 
presence,  and  indeed  the  whole  human  race, 
often  wished  rather  to  die  than  to  live  ? The 
tumult  of  passions  disturbs  the  best  of  our  days; 
diseases  and  weakness  accompany  old  age ; and 
death  so  vainly  dreaded,  is  the  sure  and  hos- 
pitable refuge  of  wretched  mortals.” 

Xerxes  was  not  of  a disposition  steadily  to 
contemplate  the  dictates  of  experience  and  the 
maxims  of  philosophy.  He  endeavoured  to 
divert  those  gloomy  reflections  which  he  could 
not  remove,  by  amusing  his  fancy  with  horse- 
races, mock-battles,  and  other  favourite  enter- 
tainments. In  the  intervals  of  these  diversions, 
he  sometimes  conversed  with  Demaratus,  the 
banished  king  of  Sparta,  who,  as  we  have 
already  mentioned,  had  sought  refuge  in  the 
Persian  court,  from  the  persecution  of  his 
countrymen.  A memorable  interview  between 
them  is  described  by  Herodotus.  The  Persian, 
displaying  ostentatiously  the  magnitude  of  his 
power,  asked  the  royal  fugitive,  whether  he 
suspected  the  Greeks  would  yet  venture  to 
take  the  field,  in  order  to  oppose  the  progress 
of  his  arms?  Demaratus  replied,  that  if  he 
might  speak  without  giving  offence,  he  was  of 
opinion  that  the  Persians  vrould  meet  with  a 
very  vigorous  resistance.  “ Greece  had  been 
trained  in  the  severe,  but  useful  school  of  ne- 
cessity; poverty  was  her  nurse  and  her  mother; 
she  had  acquired  patience  and  valour  by  the 
early  application  of  discipline ; and  she  was 
habituated  to  the  practice  of  virtue  by  the 
watchful  attention  of  the  law.  All  the  Greeks 


[Chap. 

were  warlike,  but  the  Spartans  were  peculiarly 
brave.  It  was  unnecessary  to  ask  their  num- 
ber, for  if  they  exceeded  not  a thousand  men, 
they  would  defend  their  country  and  their  free- 
dom against  the  assembled  myriads  of  Asia.”2 
Xerxes  was  rather  amused  than  instructed 
by  this  discourse.  His  hopes  of  success  seemed 
built  on  too  solid  principles  to  be  shaken  by  the 
opinion  of  a prejudiced  Greek.  Every  day 
messengers  arrived  with  the  submission  of  new 
nations.  The  inhabitants  of  the  rocky  country 
of  Doris,  many  tribes  of  Thessaly,  the  moun- 
taineers of  Pindus,  Ossa,  Pelion,  and  Olympus, 
which  like  a lofty  rampart  surround  that 
country,  offered  the  usual  present  of  earth  and 
water,  as  the  symbol  of  surrendering  their  ter- 
ritories to  a power  which  it  seemed  vain  to  re- 
sist. These  districts' formed  only  the  northern 
frontier  of  Greece.  But  what  gave  peculiar 
pleasure  to  Xerxes,  the  Thebans  who  inhabited 
the  central  parts,  and  all  the  cities  of  Boeotia, 
except  Thespiae  and  Plat  sea,  privately  sent  am- 
bassadors to  testify  their  good-will  to  his  cause, 
and  to  request  the  honour  of  his  friendship. 

Mean  while  those  Grecians,  who,  unmoved 
by  the  terrors  of  invasion,  obeyed  the  voice  of 
liberty  and  their  country,  had  sent  deputies  to 
the  isthmus  of  Corinth,  to  deliberate  about  the 
common  interest.  They  consisted  of  representa- 
tives from  the  several  states  of  Peloponnesus, 
and  from  the  most  considerable  republics  be- 
yond that  peninsula.  By  common  consent, 
they  suspended  their  domestic  animosities,  re- 
called their  fugitives,  consulted  their  oracles, 
and  despatched  ambassadors,  in  the  name  of 
united  Greece,  to  demand  assistance  from  the 
islands  of  Crete,  Cyprus,  and  Corcyra,  as  well 
as  from  the  Grecian  colonies  on  the  coasts  of 
Italy  and  Sicily.  All  their  measures  were 
carried  on  with  great  appearance  of  unanimity 
and  concord.  Even  the  Thebans,  careful  to 
conceal  their  treachery,  had  sent  representa- 
tives to  the  common  council.  The  general 
danger  seemed  to  unite  and  harmonize  the 
most  discordant  members;  and  although  the 
perpetual  dissensions  between  rival  states  fre- 
quently weakened  the  authority  of  the  Amphic- 
tyonic  confederacy,  it  appeared  on  the  present, 
as  on  many  other  occasions,  that  the  Greeks 
acknowledged  the  obligation  of  a tacit  alliance 
to  defend  each  other  against  domestic  tyrants 
and  foreign  barbarians.  « 

Before  they  had  an  opportunity  of  learning 
the  will  of  the  gods,  or  of  discovering  the  in- 
tentions of  their  distant  allies,  ambassadors 
arrived  from  those  communities  of  Thessaly 
which  still  adhered  to  the  interest  of  Greece, 
praying  a speedy  and  effectual  assistance  to 
guard  the  narrow  passes  which  lead  into  their 
country.  There  is  a valley  near  the  coast  of 
the  Egean,  between  the  lofty  mountains  of  Ossa 
and  Olympus,  which  afforded  the  most  con- 
venient passage  from  Macedon  into  Thessaly. 
This  singular  spot,  commonly  called  the  valley 
of  Tempe,  is  about  five  miles  in  length,  and, 
where  narrowest,  scarcely  a hundred  paces  in 
breadth;  but  is  adorned  by  the  hand  of  nature 
with  every  object  that  can  gratify  the  senses  or 


1 Herodot.  1.  vfi.  c.  clxxxiv. 


2 Herodot.  1.  vii.  c.  cii.  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


115 


IX.] 

delight  the  fancy.  The  gently-flowing  Peneus3 
intersects  the  middle  of  the  plain.  Its  waters 
are  increased  by  perennial  cascades  from  the 
green  mountains,  and  thus  rendered  of  suffi- 
cient depth  for  vessels  of  considerable  burden. 
The  rocks  are  every  where  planted  with  vines 
and  olives,  and  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  even 
the  river  itself,  are  overshadowed  with  lofty 
forest  trees,  which  defend  those  who  sail  upon 
it  from  the  sun’s  meridian  ardour.  The  innu- 
merable grottos  and  arbours  carelessly  scat- 
tered over  this  delightful  scene,  and  watered 
by  fountains  of  peculiar  freshness  and  salubrity, 
invite  the  weary  traveller  to  repose ; while  the 
musical  warbling  of  birds  conspires  with  the 
fragrant  odour  of  plants  to  soothe  his  senses, 
and  to  heighten  the  pleasure  which  the  eye 
and  fancy  derive  from  viewing  the  charming 
variety  of  this  enchanting  landscape ; from  ex- 
amining the  happy  intermixture  of  hill  and 
dale,  wood  and  water;  and  from  contemplating 
the  diversified  beauty  and  majestic  grandeur 
of  Nature  under  her  most  blooming  and  bene- 
ficent aspects. 

This  delicious  valley,  which  an  ancient 
writer,  by  a bold  figure  of  speech,  calls  “ a fes- 
tival for  the  eyes,”  and  which  the  bounty  of  the 
gods  had  formed  for  happy  scenes  of  love,  in- 
nocence, and  tranquillity,  the  destructive  am- 
bition of  man  was  ready  to  convert  into  a field 
of  bloodshed  and  horror.  It  was  natural  for  the 
Thessalians  to  expect  that  the  troops  of  Xerxes 
would  pass  by  this  inlet  into  their  territories ; 
and  hither  their  ambassadors  entreated  the 
allied  Greeks  to  send  an  army.  The  proposal 
seemed  just  and  useful;  ships  were  prepared 
at  the  Isthmus;  and  a body  of  ten  thousand 
men  were  embarked  under  the  command  of 
Themistocles,  with  orders  to  sail  through  the 
narrow  Euripus,  to  land  in  the  harbours  of 
Tempe,  and  to  remain  there  in  order  to  guard 
that  important  pass. 

They  had  not  continued  in  those  parts  many 
days,  when  a messenger  arrived  from  Alexan- 
der, son  of  Amyntas,  tributary  prince  of  Mace- 
donia, advising  them  to  depart  from  that  post, 
unless  they  meant  to  be  trodden  under  foot  by 
the  Persian  cavalry.  It  is  not  probable,  how- 
ever, that  this  menace  could  have  changed 
their  resolution.  But  they  had  already  learned 
that  there  was  another  passage  into  Thessaly, 
through  the  territory  of  the  Peraebians,  near 
the  city  Gonnus  in  Upper  Macedonia.  Their 
army  was  insufficient  to  guard  both  ; and  the 
defending  of  one  only,  could  not  be  of  essential 
advantage  to  themselves,  to  the  Thessalians,  or 
to  the  common  cause. 

Mean  time,  the  dangers  which  thickened  over 
their  respective  republics,  rendered  it  necessary 
to  return  southward.  Their  distant  colonies, 
particularly  those  of  Sicily,  which  were  the 
most  numerous  and  powerful,  could  not  afford 
them  any  assistance,  being  themselves  threat- 


3 I know  not  why  Ovid  says, 

Peneus  ab  imo 

EfFusus  Pindo  spumosis  volvitur  undis. 

Metam.  1.  i.  vcr.  570. 

/Elian  (from  whom  the  description  in  the  text  is  taken) 
says,  that  the  Peneus  flows 

Aoojv  t\ *«ou,  smooth  as  oil 


ened  with  a formidable  invasion  from  the  Car- 
thaginians, the  cause  and  consequences  of 
which  we  shall  have  occasion  fully  to  explain. 
The  oracles  were  doubtful,  or  terrifying.  To 
the  Spartans  they  announced,  as  the  only 
means  of  safety,  the  voluntary  death  of  a king 
of  the  race  of  Hercules.  The  Athenians  were 
commanded  to  seek  refuge  within  their  wooden 
walls.  The  responses  given  to  the  other  states 
are  not  particularly  recorded ; but  it  appears 
in  general,  that  all  were  dark,  ambiguous,  or 
frightful.  The  Grecian  army  returned  there- 
fore to  their  ships,  repassed  the  Euripus,  and 
arrived  in  safety  at  Corinth;  while  the  Thes- 
salians, thus  abandoned  by  their  allies,  reluc- 
tantly submitted  to  the  common  enemy. 

The  terror  inspired  by  the  critical  situation 
of  affairs,  rendered  the  presence  of  the  leaders 
necessary  in  their  respective  communities. 
Themistocles  found  the  Athenians  divided 
about  the  meaning  of  the  oracle,  the  greater 
part  asserting,  that  by  wooden  walls  was  un- 
derstood the  inclosure  of  the  citadel,  which 
had  been  formerly  surrounded  by  a palisade. 
Others  gave  the  words  a different  construction, 
and  each  according  to  his  fears  or  his  interest; 
but  Themistocles  asserted  that  all  of  them  had 
mistaken  the  advice  of  the  god,  wrho  desired 
them  to  trust  for  safety  to  their  fleet.  This 
opinion,  supported  by  all  the  force  of  his  elo- 
quence, and  the  weight  of  his  authority,  at 
length  prevailed  in  the  assembly,  although  Epi- 
cides,  a demagogue  of  great  influence  among 
the  lower  ranks  of  people,  opposed  it  with  the 
utmost  vehemence  ; and  seizing  this  opportu- 
nity to  traduce  the  character  of  Themistocles, 
insisted  that  he  himself  should  be  appointed 
general  in  his  room.  But  the  prudent  Athe- 
nian knew  the  .weakness  of  his  adversary ; his 
great  passion  was  avarice;  and  a seasonable 
bribe  immediately  silenced  his  clamorous  op- 
position. The  Athenian  gallies  were  fitted 
out  with  all  convenient  speed,  and  being  joined 
with  those  of  Euboea,  iEgina,  Corinth,  and  the 
maritime  allies  of  Peloponnesus,  amounted  to 
a fleet  of  three  hundred  sail.  They  proceeded 
to  the  narrow  sea  which  divides  the  northern 
shore  of  Euboea  from  the  coast  of  Thessaly, 
rendezvoused  at  the  promontory  of  Artemi- 
sium,  and  patiently  expected  the  arrival  of  the 
Barbarians. 

Besides  the  force  necessary  for  manning  this 
fleet,  the  confederates  could  raise  an  army  of 
about  sixty  thousand  freemen,  besides  a still 
greater  proportion  of  armed  slaves.  As  the 
passes  leading  from  Thessaly  to  the  territories 
of  Phocis  and  Locris  were  still  narrower  and 
more  difficult  of  access  than  those  from  Mace- 
don  into  Thessaly,  \t  seems  extraordinary  that 
they  did  not  immediately  direct  their  whole 
military  strength  towards  that  quarter:  but 
this  neglect  may  be  explained  by  their  super- 
stitious veneration  for  oracles,  the  necessity  of 
celebrating  their  accustomed  festivals,  and  the 
dangerous  delays  and  inactivity  inherent  in  the 
nature  of  a republican  confederacy.  As  they 
were  acquainted  with  only  one  pass,  by  which 
the  Persians  could  arrive  from  Thessaly,  they 
thought  that  a body  of  eight  thousand  pike- 
mcn  might  be  equally  capable  with  a larger 


116 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


proportion  of  troops,  to  defend  it  against  every 
invader.  This  narrow  defile  was  called  the 
Straits  of  Thermopylae,  in  allusion  to  the  warm 
springs  in  that  neighbourhood,  and  was  deem- 
ed the  gate  or  entrance  into  Greece.  It  was 
bounded  on  the  west  by  high  and  inaccessible 
precipices,  which  join  the  lofty  ridge  of  mount 
CEta ; and  on  the  east  terminated  by  an  imprac- 
ticable morass,  bordered  by  the  sea.  Near  the 
plain  of  the  Thessalian  city  Trachis,  the  pas- 
sage was  fifty  feet  broad ; but  at  Alpene,  there 
was  not  room  for  one  chariot  to  pass  another. 
Even  these  passes  were  defended  by  walls,  for- 
merly built  by  the  Phocians  to  protect  them 
against  the  incursions  of  their  enemies  in  Thes- 
saly, and  strengthened,  on  this  occasion,  with 
as  much  care  as  time  would  allow.  The  troops 
sent  to  Thermopylse,  which  was  only  fifteen 
miles  distant  from  the  station  of  the  Grecian 
fleet  at  Artemisium,  consisted  chiefly  of  Pelo- 
ponnesians, commanded  by  Leonidas  the  Spar- 
tan king,  who  was  prepared,  in  obedience  to 
the  oracle,  to  devote  his  life  for  the  safety  of 
his  country. 

Before  the  Grecian  confederates  adopted 
these  vigorous  measures  for  their  own  defence, 
the  Persian  army  had  marched,  in  three  divi- 
sions, from  Thracian  Doriscus.  They  were 
accompanied  by  the  fleet,  which  coasting  about 
two  hundred  miles  along  the  shores  of  Thrace, 
Macedon,  and  Thessaly,  at  length  reached 
Cape  Sepias,  which  is  twenty  miles  north  of 
Artemisium.  As  they  advanced  southward, 
they  laid  under  contribution  Abdera,1  Thasus, 
and  Eion,  the  principal  Grecian  colonies  in 
Thrace,  as  well  as  the  cities  of  Torona,  Olyn- 
thus,  Potidaea,  and  other  places  of  smaller  note 
on  the  coast  of  Macedonia.  The  whole  fleet 
anchored,  after  performing  the  most  tedious 
and  dangerous  part  of  the  voyage,  near  the  en- 
trance of  the  rivers  Axius  and  Lydius,  which 
flow  into  the  Thermaic  gulf;  and,  after  quitting 
these  harbours,  spent  eleven  days  in  sailing 
eighty  miles,  along  a smooth  unbroken  coast, 
from  the  northern  extremity  of  this  gulf  to  the 
general  rendezvous  near  Cape  Sepias. 

The  fleet  was  commanded  by  Achaemines 
and  Areabignes,  sons  of  Darius.  Xerxes,  in 
person,  headed  his  army,  which  made  a con- 
siderable halt  during  the  march  at  the  Mace- 
donian towns  of  Therma  and  Pella,  and 
encamped  in  the  Thracian  plains  on  each  side 
of  the  above-mentioned  rivers  Axius  and  Ly- 
dius. From  hence  they  proceeded  in  three 
bodies;  the  division  nearest  the  shore  was 
commanded  by  Mardonius  and  Masistes.  Ser- 
gis,  an  experienced  general,  conducted  the 
march  through  the  higher  parts  of  the  country; 
and  the  great  king,  accompanied  by  Smerdones 
and  Megabyzus,  who  occasionally  relieved  him 
from  the  trouble  of  command,  chose  the  middle 
passage  as  the  safest,  the  most  convenient,  and 


i 


1 The  places  on  the  road  prepared  not  only  vast  maga- 
zines of  corn  and  other  provisions  for  the  troops,  but  sump- 
tuous entertainments  for  Xerxes  and  his  attendants.  A i 
Baying  of  Megacreon  of  Abdera  expressed  the  devouring  ra- 
pacity of  the  invaders:  “That  the  Abderites  ought  to 
thank  the  gods,  that  Xerxes  feasted  but  once  a day ; it 
would  ruin  Abdera  to  furnish  him  with  both  a dinner  and  a I 
supper.”——  * 


[Chap. 

the  most  entertaining;  for  hitherto  the  Persian 
expedition  was  rather  a journey  of  pleasure, 
than  an  undertaking  of  fatigue  or  danger. 
Xerxes  examined  at  leisure  such  objects  of  na- 
ture or  art  as  appeared  most  interesting  and 
curious.  His  fancy  was  amused,  as  he  passed 
the  various  scenes  of  superstition,  with  the  le- 
gendary tales  carefully  related  by  his  con- 
ductors. He  viewed,  with  pleasure,  the  wide 
plains  of  Thessaly,  which  bore  indubitable 
marks  of  being  once  an  extensive  lake;  and 
contemplated,  with  wonder,  the  lofty  moun- 
tains which  separated  that  country  from  the 
rest  of  Greece,  and  which  evidently  appear  to 
be  rent  asunder,  and  to  have  received  their  pre- 
sent form,  from  the  terrible  operation  of  volca- 
nos and  earthquakes.  After  fully  satisfying 
his  curiosity,  he  joined,  with  the  division  more 
immediately  under  his  command,  the  remainder 
of  the  army,  assembled  and  encamped  on  the 
wide  plains  of  Trachis,  about  forty  miles  in  cir 
cumference,  stretching  along  the  shore  of  Thes 
saly,  opposite  to  the  station  of  the  Persian  fleet, 
and  adjacent  to  the  Straits  of  Thermopylse.2 

For  more  than  twelve  months,  Xerxes  had 
never  seen  the  face  of  an  enemy.  He  had  tra- 
versed, without  resistance,  the  wide  regions  of 
Asia,  and  the  countries  which  in  ancient  times 
were  deemed  most  warlike  in  Europe.  All  the 
territories  beyond  Trachis  acknowledged  his 
power  ; and  the  districts  of  Greece,  which  still 
presented  a scene  of  action  to  his  invincible 
arms,  were  less  extensive  than  the  meanest  of 
his  provinces.  Yet  it  is  probable  that  he  heard, 
not  without  emotion,  that  an  army  of  Greeks, 
headed  by  the  Spartan  king,  had  taken  post  at 
Thermopylae,  in  order  to  dispute  his  passage. 
What  he  had  been  told  by  Demaratus  con- 
cerning the  character  and  principles  of  that 
heroic  people,  he  might  now,  when  the  danger 
drew  near,  be  the  more  inclined  to  believe, 
from  the  suggestions  of  his  own  memory  and 
experience.  In  the  warmth  of  generous  indig- 
nation, the  Spartans,  as  we  have  already  ob- 
served, had  put  to  death  the  Persian  heralds, 
sent  to  demand  their  submission ; but  upon 
cool  reflection,  they  were  prompted,  chiefly  in- 
deed by  superstitious  motives,  to  make  atone- 
ment for  a violation  of  the  sacred  law  of  nations. 
When  proclamation  was  made  in  the  assembly, 
“who  would  die  for  Sparta?”  two  citizens,  of 
great  rank  and  eminence,  offered  themselves  as 
willing  sacrifices  for  the  good  of  the  commu- 
nity. Sperthies  and  Bulis  (for  these  were  their 
names)  set  out  for  Susa  on  this  singular  errand. 
As  they  passed  through  Lesser  Asia,  they  were 
entertained  by  Hydarnes,  the  governor  of  that 
province,  who  actually  accompanied  Xerxes,  as 
commander  of  the  immortal  band,  to  which 
dignity  he  had  been  raised  on  account  of  his 
superior  merit.  Hydarnes,  among  other  dis- 
course with  the  Spartans,  testified  his  surprise, 
that  their  republic  should  be  so  averse  to  the 
friendship  of  the  king  his  master,  who,  he  ob- 
served, as  they  might  learn  by  his  own  example, 
well  understood  the  value  of  brave  men.  That 
if  they  complied  with  the  desires  of  Xerxes,  he 
would  appoint  them  governors  over  the  other 


2 Herodot.  Diodor.  Plutarch,  ibid. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


117 


IX.] 

cities  of  Greece.  The  Spartans  coolly  replied, 
That  he  talked  of  a matter  of  which  he  was 
not  a competent  judge.  With  the  condition  and 
rewards  of  servitude  he  was  indeed  sufficiently 
acquainted ; but  as  to  the  enjoyments  of  liberty, 
he  had  never  proved  how  sweet  they  were  ; for 
if  he  had  once  made  that  experiment  he  would 
advise  them  to  defend  their  freedom  not  only 
with  lances,  but  with  hatchets.”3 

The  same  magnanimity  distinguished  their 
behaviour  at  Susa.  The  guards  told  them, 
that,  when  admitted  into  the  presence  of  Xerxes, 
they  must  observe  the  usual  ceremony  of  pros- 
trating themselves  on  the  ground.  But  the 
Spartans  declared,  “ That  no  degree  of  violence 
could  make  them  submit  to  such  mean  adula- 
tion : that  they  were  not  accustomed  to  adore  a 
man,  and  came  not  thither  for  such  an  impious 
purpose.”  They  approached  Xerxes,  there- 
fore, in  an  erect  posture,  and  told  him  with 
firmness,  they  were  sent  to  submit  to  any  pu- 
nishment which  he  might  think  proper  to  inflict 
on  them,  as  an  atonement  for  the  death  of  his 
heralds.  Xerxes  admiring  their  virtue,  replied, 
“ That  he  certainly  should  not  repeat  the  error 
of  the  Greeks,  nor,  by  sacrificing  the  individuals, 
deliver  the  state  from  the  guilt  of  murder  and 
impiety.”  The  Spartans  having  received  this 
answer,  returned  home,  persuaded  that  they 
had  done  their  duty  in  offering  private  satis- 
faction; which,  though  not  accepted,  ought 
sufficiently  to  atone  for  the  public  crime.4 

The  example  of  these  distinguished  patriots 
probably  gave  Xerxes  a very  favourable  idea 
of  the  general  character  of  their  community. 
As  he  had  not  any  particular  quarrel  with  the 
Spartans,  whose  opposition,  though  it  could 
not  prevent,  would  certainly  retard,  his  intend- 
ed punishment  of  Athens,  he  sent  messengers 
to  desire  them  to  lay  down  their  arms;  to 
which  they  replied,  “ Let  him  come,  and  take 
them.”  The  messengers  then  offered  them 
lands,  on  condition  of  their  becoming  allies  to 
the  great  king:  but  they  answered,  “That  it 
was  the  custom  of  their  republic  to  conquer 
lands  by  valour,  not  to  acquire  them  by  trea- 
chery.” Except  making  these  smart  replies, 
they  took  not  the  smallest  notice  of  the  Per- 
sians ; but  continued  to  employ  themselves  as 
before  their  arrival,  contending  in  the  gymnas- 
tic exercises,  entertaining  themselves  with  mu- 
sic and  conversation,  or  adjusting  their  long 
hair  to  appear  more  terrible  to  their  enemies. 
The  messengers  of  Xerxes,  equally  astonished 
at  what  they  saw  and  heard,  returned  to  the 
Persian  camp,  and  described  the  unexpected 
event  of  their  commission,  as  well  as  the  ex- 
traordinary behaviour  of  the  Spartans ; of* 
which  Xerxes  desired  an  explanation  from  their 
countryman  Demaratus.5  The  latter  declared 
in  general,  that  their  whole  carriage  and  de- 
meanour announced  a determined  resolution  to 
fight  to  the  last  extremity  ; but  he  found  it 
difficult  to  make  the  Persian  conceive  the  mo- 
tives of  men,  who  sought,  at  the  certain  price 
of  their  own  lives,  to  purchase  immortal 


renown  for  their  country. — That  a few  in- 
dividuals should  be  animated,  on  some  ex- 
traordinary occasions,  with  this  patriotic  mag- 
nanimity, may  easily  be  understood.  Of  this, 
history  in  all  ages  furnishes  illustrious  ex- 
amples ; but  that  a whole  nation  should  be 
habitually  impressed  with  the  same  generosity 
of  character,  cannot  readily  be  believed,  without 
reflecting  on  the  institutions  and  manners  of 
the  Spartans.  The  laws  of  that  celebrated 
people  prohibiting,  as  it  has  been  already  ob- 
served,6 the  introduction  of  wealth  and  luxu- 
ry, and  rigidly  confining  each  individual  to 
the  rank  in  which  he  was  born,  had  ex- 
tinguished the  great  motives  of  private  ambi- 
tion, and  left  scarcely  any  other  scope  to  the 
active  principles  of  men,  but  the  glory  of  pro- 
moting the  interests  of  their  republic.  Their 
extraordinary  military  success,  the  natural  fruit 
of  their  temperance  and  activity,  had  given  them 
a permanent  sense  of  their  superiority  in  war, 
which  it  became  their  chief  point  of  honour  to 
maintain  and  to  confirm;  and  as  the  law  which 
commanded  them  to  die,  rather  than  break 
their  ranks,  or  abandon  their  posts  in  battle,  was, 
like  all  the  ordinances  of  Lycurgus,  conceived 
to  be  of  divine  authority,  the  influence  of  su- 
perstition happily  conspired  with  the  ardour  of 
patriotism  and  the  enthusiasm  of  valour,  in  pre- 
paring them  to  meet  certain  death  in  the  ser- 
vice of  the  public. 

Xerxes  could  not  be  made  to  enter  into  these 
motives,  or  to  believe,  as  Herodotus  observes 
with  inimitable  simplicity,  “that  the  Grecians 
were  come  to  Thermopylae  only  as  men  de- 
sirous to  die,  and  to  destroy  as  many  of  their 
enemies,  as  they  could,  though  nothing  was 
more  true.”  He  therefore  waited  four  days, 
continually  expecting  they  would  either  retreat 
into  their  own  country,  or  surrender  their  arms, 
agreeably  to  his  message.  But  as  they  still 
continued  to  guard  the  passage,  he  ascribed 
this  conduct  to  obstinacy  or  folly  ; and  on  the 
fifth  day  determined  to  chastise  their  insolent 
opposition. 

The  Medes  and  Cissians,  who,  next  to  the 
Sacee  and  Persians,  formed  the  bravest  part  of 
his  army,  were  commanded  to  attack  these  ob- 
stinate Greeks,  and  to  bring  them  alive  into 
his  presence.  The  Barbarians  marched  with 
confidence  to  the  engagement,  but  were  re- 
pulsed with  great  slaughter.  The  places  of 
those  who  fell,  were  incessantly  supplied  with 
fresh  troops,  but  the}*  could  not  make  the 
smallest  impression  on  the  firm  battalions  of 
the  Greeks  ; and  the  great  loss  which  they  sus- 
tained in  the  attempt,  proved  to  all,  and  par- 
ticularly to  the  king,  that  he  had  indeed  many 
men,  but  few  soldiers.  ThcSacoe,  armed  with 
their  hatchets,  next  marched  to  the  attack,  but 
without  better  success ; and  last  of  all,  the 
chosen  band  of  Persians,  headed  by  Hydarnes, 
deigned  to  display  their  valour  in  what  appear- 
ed to  them  a very  unequal  contest.  But  they 
soon  changed  their  opinion  when  they  came  to 
close  with  the  enemy ; for,  says  Herodotus, 
their  numbers  were  useless,  as  they  fought  in  a 
narrow  pass,  and  their  short-pointed  weapons 


3 Herodot.  1.  vii.  c.  cxxxv. 

4 Ibid.  1.  vii.  c.  cxxxiv.  et  seq. 

5 Ibid.  c.  ecix.  et.  seq. 


T 


6 See  above,  c.  iii.  p.  32. 


118 


HISTORY  OP  GREECE. 


were  ill  calculated  to  contend  with  the  length 
of  the  Grecian  spear.  The  Greeks  had  the 
advantage  still  more  in  the  superiority  of  their 
discipline,  than  in  the  excellence  of  their  ar- 
mour. Tired  with  destroying,  they  retreated 
in  close  order,  and  when  pursued  unguardedly 
by  the  Barbarians,  they  faced  about  on  a sud- 
den, and  killed  an  incredible  number  of  the 
Persians,  with  scarcely  any  loss  to  themselves. 
Xerxes,  who  was  seated  on  an  eminence  to  be- 
hold the  battle,  frequently  started  in  wild  emo- 
tion from  his  tin-one  ; and  fearing  lest  he  should 
be  deprived  of  the  flower  of  his  army,  he  order- 
ed them  to  be  drawn  off*  from  the  attack.  But 
as  the  Grecian  numbers  were  so  extremely  in- 
considerable, and  as  it  seemed  probable  that 
the  greatest  part  of  them  must  have  suffered 
much  injury  in  these  repeated  assaults,  he  de- 
termined next  day  to  renew  the  engagement. 
Next  day  he  fought  without  better  success  than 
before  ; and  after  vainly  endeavouring  to  force 
the  pass,  both  in  separate  bodies,  and  with  the 
collected  vigour  of  their  troops,  the  Persians 
were  compelled  to  abandon  the  enterprise,  and 
disgracefully  to  retire  to  their  camp. 

It  was  a spectacle  which  the  world  had  never 
seen  before,  and  which  it  was  never  again  to 
behold,  the  persevering  intrepidity  of  eight 
thousand  men  resisting  the  impetuous  fury  of 
an  army  composed  of  millions.  The  pertina- 
cious valour  of  Leonidas,  and  of  his  little  troop, 
opposed,  and  might  have  long  retarded,  the( 
progress  of  the  Barbarians.  But  it  was  the 
fate  of  Greece  always  to  be  conquered  rather 
by  the  treachery  of  false  friends,  than  by  the 
force  of  open  enemies.  When  Xerxes  knew 
not  what  measures  to  pursue  in  order  to  effect 
his  purpose,  and  felt  the  inconvenience  of  re- 
maining long  in  the  same  quarters  with  such 
an  immense  number  of  men,  a perfidious  Greek, 
induced  by  the  hopes  of  reward,  offered  to  re- 
move his  difficulties.1  The  name  of  the  traitor 
was  Epialtes,  and  he  was  a native  of  the  ob- 
scure district  of  Mcelis,  which  separates  the 
frontiers  of  Thessaly  and  Phocis.  His  expe- 
rience of  the  country  made  him  acquainted 
with  a passage  through  the  mountains  of  CEta, 
several  miles  to  the  west  of  that  guarded  by 
Leonidas.  Over  this  unfrequented  path  he 
undertook  to  conduct  a body  of  twenty  thou- 
sand Persians,  who  might  assault  the  enemy  in 
rear,  while  the  main  body  attacked  them  in 
front.  By  this  means,  whatever  prodigies  of 
valour  the  Greeks  might  perform,  they  must  be 
finally  compelled  to  surrender,  as  they  would 
be  inclosed  on  all  sides  among  barren  rocks  and 
inhospitable  deserts. 

The  plan  so  judiciously  concerted,  was  car- 
ried into  immediate  execution.  On  the  even- 
ing of  the  seventh  day  after  Xerxes  arrived  at 
the  Straits,  twenty  thousand  chosen  men  left 
the  Persian  camp,  commanded  by  Hydarnes, 
and  conducted  by  Epialtes.  All  night  they 
marched  through  the  thick  forests  of  oak  which 
abound  in  those  parts ; and  by  day-break  they 
had  advanced  near  to  the  top  of  the  hill.  But 
how  much  were  they  surprised  to  see  the  first 
rays  of  the  morning  reflected  by  the  glittering 


[Chap. 

surfaces  of  Grecian  spears  and  helmets ! Hy- 
darnes was  afraid  that  this  guard,  which  seem- 
ed at  no  great  distance,  had  been  also  composed 
of  Lacedaemonians ; but  a nearer  approach 
showed  that  they  consisted  of  a thousand  Pho- 
cians,  whom  the  foresight  of  Leonidas  had  sent 
to  defend  this  important  but  unknown  pass, 
which  chance  or  treachery  might  discover  to 
the  Persians.  The  thick  shade  of  the  trees 
long  concealed  the  enemy  from  the  Greeks ; at 
length  the  rustling  of  the  leaves,  and  the  tu- 
mult occasioned  by  the  motion  of  twenty  thou- 
sand men,  discovered  the  imminence  of  danger; 
the  Phocians,  with  great  intrepidity  flew  to 
their  arms,  and  prepared,  if  they  should  not 
conquer,  at  least  to  die  gallantly.  The  com- 
pact firmness  of  their  ranks,  which  might  have 
resisted  the  regular  onset  of  the  enemy,  exposed 
them  to  suffer  much  from  the  immense  shower 
of  darts  which  the  Persians  poured  upon  them. 
T o avoid  this  danger,  they  too  rashly  abandon- 
ed the  pass  which  they  had  been  sent  to  guard, 
and  retired  to  the  most  elevated  part  of  the 
mountain,  not  doubting  that  the  enemy,  whose 
strength  so  much  exceeded  'their  own,  would 
follow  them  thither.  But  in  this  they  were 
disappointed  ; for  the  Persians  prudently  omit- 
ting the  pursuit  of  this  inconsiderable  party, 
whom  to  defeat  they  considered  as  a matter  of 
little  moment,  immediately  seized  the  passage, 
and  marched  down  the  mountain  with  the  ut- 
most expedition,  in  order  to  accomplish  the  de 
sign  suggested  by  Epialtes. 

Mean  while  obscure  intimations  from  the 
gods  had  darkly  announced  some  dreadful 
calamity  impending  on  the  Greeks  at  Ther- 
mopylae. The  appearance  of  the  entrails, 
which  were  carefully  inspected  by  the  augur 
Magistias,  threatened  the  Spartans  with  death  ; 
but  when,  or  by  what  means,  it  did  not  clearly 
appear,  until  a Grecian  deserter,  a native  of  the 
city  of  Cyme,  in  Ionia,  named  Tyrastiades,  arri- 
ved with  information  of  the  intended  march  of 
the  Persians  across  the  mountain.  Animated  by 
the  love  of  his  country,  this  generous  fugitive 
had  no  sooner  discovered  the  treacherous  de- 
sign of  Epialtes,  than  he  determined,  at  the  risk 
of  his  life,  and  still  more  at  the  risk  of  being 
subjected  to  the  most  excruciating  tortures,  to 
communicate  his  discovery  to  the  Spartan  king/2 
Zeal  for  the  safety  of  Greece  gave  swiftness  to 
his  steps,  and  he  appeared  in  the  Grecian  camp 
a few  hours  after  the  Persians,  conducted  by 
Epialtes,  had  left  the  plains  of  Trachis.  Le- 
onidas immediately  called  a council  of  war,  to 
deliberate  upon  the  measures  necessary  to  be 
taken  in  consequence  of  this  information, 
equally  important  and  alarming.  All  the  con- 
federates of  Peloponnesus,  except  the  Spartans, 
declared  their  opinion,  that  it  was  necessary  to 
abandon  a post,  which,  after  the  double  attack 
announced  to  them  should  take  place,  it  would 
be  impossible  with  any  hopes  of  success  to 
maintain.  As  their  exertions  could  not  be  of 
any  avail  to  the  public  cause,  it  was  prudent  to 
consult  their  private  safety  ; and  while  time 
was  yet  allowed  them,  to  retire  to  the  isthmus 
of  Corinth,  where,  joining  the  rest  of  the  auxi- 


1 Herodot.  1.  vii;  c.  ccxii.  et  seq. 


2 Herodot.  1.  vii.  c.  ccxix.  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


119 


IX.] 

liaries,  they  might  be  ready  to  defend  the  Gre- 
cian peninsula  against  the  fury  of  the  Barba- 
rians. It  belonged  to  Leonidas  to  explain  the 
sentiments  of  the  Spartans.  The  other  in- 
habitants of  Peloponnesus,  he  observed,  might 
follow  the  dictates  of  expediency,  and  return 
to  the  isthmus,  in  order  to  defend  their  respec- 
tive territories;  but  glory  was  the  only  voice 
which  the  Spartans  had  learned  to  obey. 
Placed  in  the  first  rank  by  the  general  consent 
of  their  country,  they  would  rather  die  than 
abandon  that  post  of  honour ; and  they  were 
determined,  therefore,  at  the  price  of  their  lives, 
to  purchase  immortal  renown,  to  confirm  the 
pre-eminence  of  Sparta,  and  to  give  an  exam- 
ple of  patriotism,  worthy  of  being  admired,  if 
it  should  not  be  imitated,  by  posterity.  ' 
The  dread  of  unavoidable  and  immediate 
death  deterred  the  other  allies  from  concurring 
with  this  magnanimous  resolution.  The  Thes- 
pians alone,  amounting  to  seven  hundred  men, 
declared  they  would  never  forsake  Leonidas. 
They  were  conducted  by  the  aged  wisdom  of 
Demophilus,  and  the  youthful  valour  of  Dithy- 
rambus.  Their  republic  was  united  in  the 
strictest  alliance  with  Sparta,  by  which  they 
had  often  been  defended  against  the  usurpa- 
tion and  tyranny  of  the  Thebans.  These  cir- 
cumstances added  force  to  their  natural  gene- 
-osity  of  sentiment,  and  determined  them,  on 
this  occasion,  to  adhere  with  steadfast  intre- 
pidity to  the  measures  of  their  Spartan  allies. 
As  the  Thespians  remained  at  Thermopylffi, 
from  inclination,  and  from  principles  of  distin- 
guished bravery,  the  Thebans  were  detained 
by  the  particular  desire  of  Leonidas,  who  was 
not  unacquainted  with  the  intended  treachery 
of  their  republic.  The  four  hundred  men 
whom  that  perfidious  community  had  sent  to 
accompany  his  expedition,  he  regarded  father 
as  hostages  than  auxiliaries ; nor  was  he  un- 
willing to  employ  their  doubtful  fidelity  in  a 
desperate  service.  He  thought  that  they 
might  be  compelled  by  force,  or  stimulated  by 
a sense  of  shame,  to  encounter  the  same  dan- 
gers to  which  the  Spartans  and  Thespians 
voluntarily  submitted ; and  without  discover- 
ing his  suspicion  of  their  treachery,  he  had  a 
sufficient  pretence  for  retaining  them,  while  he 
dismissed  his  allies  of  Peloponnesus,  because 
he  Theban  territories,  lying  on  the  north  side 
of  the  isthmus  of  Corinth,  would  necessarily 
De  exposed  to  hostility  and  devastation,  when- 
ever the  Barbarians  should  pass  the  straits  of 
Thermopylae.  Besides  the  Thespians3  and 
Thebans,  the  troops  who  remained  with  Leoni- 
das, consisted  of  three  hundred  Spartans,  all 
chosen  men,  and  fathers  of  sons.  This  valiant 
band,  with  unanimous  consent,  solicited  their 
general  to  dedicate  to  the  glory  of  Greece,  and 
their  own,  the  important  interval  yet  allowed 


3 From  the  narrative  of  Herodotus,  it  would  seem  that 
the  Thespians  alone  voluntarily  remained  with  Leonidas 
and  the  Spartans.  Yet  the  inscription  which  he  cites 
makes  the  whole  number  who  fought  at  Thermopylaj, 
amount  to  four  thousand. 

Mvgixrtv  7T0TI  T>) Si  Tf  OfXOITiCtl;  t[iXX,0VT0 
Ex  TUKottowho-ov  %i\*xS'«s  7rno^i(. 

Isocrates  likewise  (p.  164.)  says,  that  some  Peloponnesians 
remained  to  tight. 


them,  before  they  were  surrounded  by  the  Per 
sians.  The  ardour  of  Leonidas  happily  con- 
spired with  the  ready  zeal  of  the  soldiers.  He 
therefore  commanded  them  to  prepare  the  last 
meal  of  their  lives,  and  to  sup  like  men  who 
should  to-morrow  dine  in  Elysium.  His  own 
example  confirmed  the  propriety  of  the  com- 
mand, for  he  took  an  abundant  repast,  in  order 
to  furnish  strength  and  spirits  for  a long  con- 
tinuance of  toil  and  danger. 

It  was  now  the  dead  of  night,  when  the 
Spartans,  headed  by  Leonidas,  marched  in  a 
close  battalion  towards  the  Persian  camp,  with 
resentment  heightened  by  despair.4  Their  fury 
was  terrible  ; and  rendered  still  more  destruc- 
tive through  the  defect  of  Barbarian  discipline  ; 
for  the  Persians  having  neither  advanced 
guards,  nor  a watch-word,  nor  confidence  in 
each  other,  were  incapable  of  adopting  such 
measures  for  defence  as  the  sudden  emergency 
required.  Many  fell  by  the  Grecian  spear, 
but  much  greater  multitudes  by  the  mistaken 
rage  of  their  own  troops,  by  whom,  in  the 
midst  of  this  blind  confusion,  they  could  not 
be  distinguished  from  enemies.  The  Greeks, 
wearied  with  slaughter,  penetrated  to  the  royal 
pavilion ; but  there  the  first  alarm  of  noise  had 
been  readily  perceived,  amidst  the  profound 
silence  and  tranquillity  which  usually  reigned 
in  the  tent  of  Xerxes ; the  great  king  had  im- 
mediately escaped,  with  his  favourite  attend- 
ants, to  the  farther  extremity  of  the  encamp- 
ment. Even  there,  all  was  tumult,  and  horror, 
and  despair ; the  obscurity  of  night  increasing 
the  terror  of  the  Persians,  who  no  longer  doubt- 
ed that  the  detachment  conducted  by  Epialtes 
had  been  betrayed  by  that  perfidious  Greek ; 
and  that  the  enemy,  reinforced  by  new  num- 
bers, now  co-operated  with  the  traitor,  and 
seized  the  opportunity  of  assailing  their  camp, 
after  it  had  been  deprived  of  the  division  of 
Hydarnes,  its  principal  ornament  and  defence. 

The  approach  of  day  discovered  to  the  Per- 
sians a dreadful  scene  of  carnage  ; but  it  also 
discovered  to  them  that  their  fears  had  multi- 
plied the  number  of  the  enemy,  who  now  re- 
treated in  close  order  to  the  straits  of  Ther- 
mopylae. Xerxes,  stimulated  by  the  fury  of 
revenge,  gave  orders  to  pursue  them ; and  his 
terrified  troops  were  rather  driven  than  led  to 
the  attack,  by  the  officers  who  marched  behind 
the  several  divisions,  and  compelled  them  to 
advance  by  menaces,  stripes,  and  blows.  The 
Grecians,  animated  by  their  late  success,  and 
persuaded  that  they  could  not  possibly  escape 
death  on  the  arrival  of  those  who  approached 
by  way  of  the  mountain,  bravely  halted  in  the 
widest  part  of  the  pass,  to  receive  the  charge 
of  the  enemy.  The  shock  was  dreadful,  and 
the  battle  was  maintained  on  the  side  of  the 
Greeks  with  persevering  intrepidity  and  despe- 
rate valour.  After  their  spears  were  blunted 
or  broken,  they  attacked  sword  in  hand,  and 


4 Diodor.  1.  xi.  p.  247.  The  nocturnal  assault,  omitted 
by  Herodotus,  is  mentioned  not  only  by  Diodorus,  but  by 
Plutarch,  Justin,  and  most,  other  writers.  The  general 
panegyric  of  Plato  (in  Mencx.)  of  Lysias  (Orat.  Funeb.) 
and  of  Isocrates  (Panegyr.)  required  not  their  descending 
into  such  particulars.  Yet,  notwithstanding  these  circum- 
stances, I should  have  omitted  this  incident,  if  it  had  ap- 
peared inconsistent  with  the  honest  narrative  of  Herodotus 


120 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


their  short,  but  massy  and  well-tempered  wea- 
pons, made  an  incredible  havoc.  Their  pro- 
gress was  marked  by  a line  of  blood,  when  a 
Barbarian  dart  pierced  the  heart  of  Leonidas. 
The  contest  was  no  longer  for  victory  and 
glory,  but  for  the  sacred  remains  of  their  king. 
Four  times  they  dispelled  the  thickest  globes 
of  Persians ; but  as  their  unexampled  valour 
was  carrying  off  the  inestimable  prize,  the 
hostile  battalions  were  seen  descending  the  hill, 
under  the  conduct  of  Epialtes.  It  was  now 
time  to  prepare  for  the  last  effort  of  generous 
despair.  With  close  order  and  resolute  minds, 
the  Greeks,  all  collected  in  themselves,  re- 
tired to  the  narrowest  part  of  the  strait,  and 
took  post  behind  the  Phocian  wall,  on  a rising 
ground,  where  a lion  of  stone  was  afterwards 
erected  in  honour  of  Leonidas.  As  they  per- 
formed this  movement,  fortune,  willing  to 
afford  every  occasion  to  display  their  illustrious 
merit,  obliged  them  to  contend  at  once  against 
open  force  and  secret  treachery.  The  The- 
bans, whom  fear  had  hitherto  restrained  from 
defection,  seized  the  present  opportunity  to 
revolt;  and  approaching  the  Persians  with  out- 
stretched arms,  declared  that  they  had  always 
been  their  friends  ; that  their  republic  had  sent 
earth  and  water,  as  an  acknowledgment  of 
their  submission  to  Xerxes ; and  that  it  was 
with  the  utmost  reluctance  they  had  been  com- 
pelled by  necessity  to  resist  the  progress  of  his 
arms.  As  they  approached  to  surrender  them- 
selves, many  perished  by  the  darts  of  the  Bar- 
barians ; the  remainder  saved  a perishing  life, 
by  submitting  to  eternal  infamy.  Meanwhile 


[Chap. 

the  Lacedaemonians  and  Thespians  were  as- 
saulted on  all  sides.  The  nearest  of  the  enemy 
beat  down  the  wall,  and  entered  by  the  breach- 
es. Their  temerity  was  punished  by  instant 
death.  In  this  last  struggle  every  Grecian 
showed  the  most  heroic  courage ; yet  if  we 
believe  the  unanimous  report  of  some  Thes- 
salians, and  others  who  survived  the  engage- 
ment, the  Spartan  Dioneces  deserved  the  prize 
of  valour.  When  it.  was  observed  to  him,  that 
the  Persian  arrows  were  so  numerous,  that  they 
intercepted  the  light  of  the  sun,  he  said  it  was 
a favourable  circumstance,  because  the  Greeks 
now  fought  in  the  shade.  The  brothers  Al- 
pheus  and  Maron  are  likewise  particularized 
for  their  generous  contempt  of  death,  and  for 
their- distinguished  valour  and  activity  in  the 
service  of  their  country.  What  these,  and 
other  virtues,  could  accomplish,  the  Greeks, 
both  as  individuals,  and  in  a body,  had  already 
performed  ; but  it  became  impossible  for  them 
longer  to  resist  the  impetuosity  and  weight  of 
the  darts,  and  arrows,  and  other  missile  wea- 
pons, which  were  continually  poured  upon 
them ; and  they  were  finally  not  destroyed  or 
conquered,  but  buried  under  a trophy  of  Per- 
sian arms.  Two  monuments  were  afterwards 
erected  near  the  spot  where  they  fell ; the  in- 
scription of  the  first  announced  the  valour  of 
a handful  of  Greeks,1  who  had  resisted  three 
millions  of  Barbarians ; the  second  was  pecu- 
liar to  the  Spartans,  and  contained  these  me- 
morable words  : “ Go,  stranger,  and  declare  to 
the  Lacedaemonians,  that  we  died  here  in  obe- 
dience to  their  divine  laws.”2 


CHAPTER  X. 

Sea  Fight  off  Artemisium — Xerxes  ravages  Phocis—  Enters  Attica — Magnanimity  of  the  Athe- 
nians— Sea  Fight  off  Salamis — Xerxes  leaves  Greece — His  miserable  Retreat — Campaign  of 
Mardonius — Battles  of  Plcetcea  and  Mycale — Issue  of  the  Persian  Invasion. 


TOURING  the  military  operations  at  Ther- 
mopylae, the  Grecian  fleet  was  stationed 
in  the  harbour  of  Artemisium,  the  northern 
promontory  of  Euboea.  That  of  the  Persians, 
too  numerous  for  any  harbour  to  contain,  had 
anchored  in  the  road  that  extends  between  the 
city  of  Castanaea  and  the  promontory  of  Se- 
pias, on  the  coast  of  Thessaly.  Here  this  for- 
midable armada  suffered  the  calamities  foretold 
by  the  wisdom  of  Artabanus.  In  a conversa- 
tion with  Xerxes,  that  prudent  old  man  had 
warned  him  against  two  enemies,  the  sea  and 


1 Isocrates,  p.  164.  makes  the  Spartans  who  fought  at 
Thermopylae  amount  to  one  thousand.  Diodorus,  1.  xi.  p. 
410.  agrees  with  Herodotus,  whose  narrative  is  followed  in 
the  text.  According  to  the  most  probable  accounts,  the 
Thespians  were  twice  as  numerous  as  the  Spartans;  al- 
though the  latter  have  carried  away  all  the  glory  of  this 
singular  exploit. 

2 £!  £r»v£  ayyaXov  Axxtfut/ucvit>i$  on  rtfSe 
Ki i/utSct  toi{  xsivuiv  gq/uxtri  frstSo/uivOi, 

Herodot.  c.  cxxviii. 


the  land,  from  whom  his  own  rash  inexpe- 
rience seemed  not  to  apprehend  any  danger. 
Yet  both  these  enemies  occasioned  dreadful 
misfortunes  to  the  Persians,  whose  numbers 
first  exposed  them  to  be  destroyed  at  sea  by  a 
tempest,  and  afterwards  to  perish  on  land  by  a 
famine.  The  first  line  of  their  fleet  was  shel- 
tered by  the  coast  of  Thessaly ; but  the  other 
lines,  to  the  number  of  seven,  rode  at  anchor, 
at  small  intervals,  with  the  prows  of  the  ves- 
sels turned  to  the  sea.  When  they  adopted  this 
arrangement,  the  waters  were  smooth,  the  sky 
clear,  the  weather  calm  and  serene  ; but  on  the 
morning  of  the  second  day  after  their  arrival 
on  the  coast,  the  sky  began  to  lower,  and  the 
appearance  of  the  heavens  grew  threatening 
and  terrible.  A dreadful  storm  of  rain  and 
thunder  succeeded ; and,  what  was  more  alarm- 
ing, the  billows  began  to  rise  to  an  amazing 
height,  occasioned  by  a violent  Helespontin,  or 
northeast  wind,  which,  when  it  once  begins  to 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


121 


X.] 

blow  in  those  seas  with  any  considerable  force, 
seldom  eeases  for  several  days.  The  nearest 
vessels  were  saved  by  hauling  under  the  shore  : 
of  the  more  remote  many  were  driven  from 
their  anchors ; some  foundered  at  sea,  others 
split  on  the  promontory,  of  Sepias,  and  several 
bulged  on  the  shallows  of  Melibaea.  Three 
days  the  tempest  raged  with  unabating  fury. 
Four  hundred  galleys  were  destroyed  by  its 
violence,  besides  such  a number  of  storeships 
and  transports,  that  the  Persian  commanders, 
suspecting  this  disaster  might  occasion  the  re- 
volt of  the  Thessalians,  fortified  themselves 
with  a rampart  of  considerable  height,  entirely 
composed  of  the  shattered  fragments  of  the 
wreck.3 

This  bulwark  was  sufficient  to  protect  them 
against  the  irruptions  of  the  Greeks ; but  it 
could  not  defend  them  against  the  more  dan- 
gerous fury  of  the  waves.  In  a short  time, 
therefore,  they  quitted  their  insecure  station  at 
Sepias,  and  with  eight  hundred  ships  of  war, 
besides  innumerable  vessels  of  burden,  sailed 
into  the  Pegasian  bay,  and  anchored  in  the 
road  of  Aphete,  which,  at  the  distance  of  a few 
miles,  lies  directly  opposite  to  the  harbour  of 
Artemisium. 

The  Grecians  had  posted  sentinels  on  the 
heights  of  Euboea  to  observe  the  consequences 
of*  the  storm,  and  to  watch  the  motions  of  the 
enemy.  When  informed  of  the  dreadful  disas- 
ter which  had  befallen  them,  they  poured  out 
a joyous  libation,  and  sacrificed,  with  pious 
gratitude,  to  u Neptune  the  deliverer  but  the 
near  approach  of  such  a superior  force  soon 
damped  their  transports  of  religious  festivity. 
Neptune  had  favoured  them  in  the  storm,  yet 
he  might  assist  their  enemies  in  the  engage- 
ment. In  the  council  of  war,  called  to  deli- 
berate on  this  important  subject,  it  was  the 
general  opinion  of  the  commanders,  that  they 
ought  immediately  to  retire  southward.  The 
Euboeans,  whose  coasts  must  have  thus  been 
abandoned  to  the  fury  of  invaders,  were  pecu- 
liarly interested  in  opposing  this  pusillanimous 
resolution.  The  passage  into  the  continent  of 
Greece,  they  observed,  was  still  guarded  by  the 
magnanimity  of  Leonidas,  and  the  bravery  of 
the  Spartans.  Following  this  generous  ex- 
ample, the  Grecian  fleet,  however  inferior  in 
strength,  ought  to  resist  the  Persians,  and  to 
protect  the  estates  and  families  of  a rich  and 
populous  island.4  This  remonstranee  had  not 
any  effect  on  the  determined  purpose  of  Euri- 
Diades  the  Spartan,  who,  on  account  of  the 
ancient  pre-eminence  of  his  republic,  was  en- 
trusted with  the  command  of  the  fleet;  an 
honour  rather  due  to  the  personal  merit  of 
Themistocles,  and  the  naval  superiority  of 
Athens. 

To  the  Athenian  commander  the  Euboeans 
secretly  applied,  and,  by  a present  of  thirty 
talents,  engaged  him  to  use  his  influence  to  re- 
tain the  Grecian  armament  for  the  defence  of 
their  coasts.  Themistocles  was  well  pleased 
at  being  bribed  into  a measure  which  his  good 
sense  and  discernment  approved.  By  a proper 

3 Herodot.  1.  vii.  c.  clxxxviii.  ct  seq.  Diodor.  Sicul.  ].  xi. 
c.  xii. 

4 Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  ii.  et  seq. 

Q 


distribution  of  only  eight  talents,  he  brought 
over  the  other  captains  to  his  opinion,  and  thus 
effectually  promoted  the  interest,  and  secured 
the  good  will,  of  the  Euboeans,  while  he  retain- 
ed for  himself  an  immense  sum  of  money, 
which  might  be  usefully  employed,  on  many 
future  occasions,  in  fixing,  by  largesses  and 
expensive  exhibitions,  the  fluctuating  favour 
of  his  fellow  citizens. 

Meanwhile  the  Persians,  having  recovered 
from  the  terrors  of  the  storm,  prepared  for  the 
engagement.  As  they  entertained  not  the 
smallest  doubt  of  victory,  they  determined  not 
to  begin  the  attack,  until  they  had  sent  two 
hundred  of  their  best  sailing  vessels  around  the 
isle  of  Euboea,  to  intercept  the  expected  flight 
of  the  enemy  through  the  narrow  Euripus.  In 
order  to  conceal  this  design,  they  ordered  the 
detached  ships  to  stand  out  to  sea  until  they 
lost  sight  of  the  eastern  coast  of  Euboea,  sailing 
behind  the  little  island  of  Sciathus,  and  after- 
wards shaping  their  course  by  the  promonto- 
ries of  Caphaneus  and  Gerestus.  The  strata- 
gem, concerted  with  more  than  usual  prudence, 
was,  however,  discovered  to  the  Greeks  by 
Scyllias,  a native  of  Scione,  now  serving  in  the 
Persian  fleet,  but  who  had  long  languished  for 
an  opportunity  of  deserting  to  his  countrymen. 
While  the  attention  of  the  Barbarians  was  em- 
ployed in  the  preparations  necessary  for  their 
new  arrangement,  Scyllias  availed  himself  of 
his  dexterity  in  diving,  to  swim,  unperceived, 
to  a boat  which  had  been  prepared  at  a suffi- 
cient distance,  in  which  he  fortunately  escaped 
to  Artemisium.  He  immediately  gained  ad- 
mittance to  the  Grecian  council,  where  the 
boldness  of  his  enterprise  gave  persuasion  to 
his  words.  In  consequence  of  his  seasonable 
and  important  information,  the  Greeks  deter- 
mined to  continue  till  midnight  in  the  harbour, 
and  then  weighing  anchor,  to  sail  in  quest  of 
the  fleet  which  had  been  sent  out  to  prevent 
their  escape.  But  this  stratagem,  by  which 
they  would  have  met  the  art  of  the  enemy 
with  similar  address,  was  not  carried  into  exe- 
cution. The  advice  boats,  which  had  been  im- 
mediately despatched  to  observe  the  progress 
of  the  Persians,  returned  before  evening,  with- 
out having  seen  any  ships  approaching  in  that 
direction. 

This  intelligence  was  welcome  to  the  Greeks, 
who  were  unwilling,  without  evident  necessity, 
to  abandon  their  present  situation.  The  enemy, 
who  had  lately  suffered  so  severely  in  the 
storm,  were  now  further  weakened  by  a consi- 
derable diminution  of  their  fleet.  The  strength 
of  the  adverse  parties  being  thus  reduced  nearer 
to  an  equality,  the  weaker  seized  the  opportu- 
nity to  display  their  courage  in  fight,  and  their 
superior  skill  in  naval  action.  About  sunset 
they  approached  in  a line,  and  offered  battle  to 
the  Persians.  The  latter  did  not  decline  the 
engagement,  as  their  ships  were  still  sufficiently 
numerous  to  surround  those  of  their  opponents. 
At  the  first  signal  the  Greeks  formed  into  a 
circle,  at  the  second  they  began  the  fight. 
Though  crowded  into  a narrow  compass,  and 
having  the  enemy  on  every  side,  they  soon 
took  thirty  of  their  ships,  and  sunk  many  more. 
Night  came  on,  accompanied  with  an  impetu- 


122 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


ous  storm  of  rain  and  thunder;  the  Greeks 
retired  into  the  harbour  of  Artemisium  ; the 
enemy  were  driven  to  the  coast  of  Thessaly. 
As  the  wind  blew  from  the  south,  the  dead 
bodies  and  wrecks  dashed  with  violence  against 
the  sides  of  their  ships,  and  disturbed  the  mo- 
tion of  their  oars.  The  Barbarians  were  seized 
with  consternation  and  despair ; for  scarcely 
had  they  time  to  breathe,  after  the  former 
storm  and  shipwreck  near  Mount  Pelion,  when 
they  were  compelled  to  a dangerous  sea-fight ; 
after  darkness  put  an  end  to  the' battle,  they 
were  again  involved  in  the  gloom  and  horrors 
of  a nocturnal  tempest.  By  good  fortune, 
rather  than  by  design,  the  greatest  part  of  the 
fleet  escaped  immediate  destruction,  and  gain- 
ed the  Pegasean  bay.  Their  calamities  were 
great  and  unexpected ; but  the  ships  ordered  to 
sail  round  Euboea  met  with  a still  more  dread- 
ful disaster.  They  were  overtaken  by  the 
storm,  after  they  had  adventured  further  from 
the  shore  than  was  usual  with  the  wary  mari- 
ners of  antiquity.  Clouds  soon  intercepted  the 
stars,  by  which  alone  they  directed  their  course. 
They  were  driven  they  knew  not  whither  by 
the  force  of  the  winds,  or  impelled  by  the  im- 
petuosity of  currents.  In  addition  to  these 
misfortunes,  they  were  terrified  by  the  thunder, 
and  overwhelmed  by  the  deluge ; and  after 
continuing  during  the  greatest  part  of  the  night, 
the  sport  of  the  elements,  they  all  perished1 
miserably  amidst  the  shoals  and  rocks  of  an 
unknown  coast. 

The  morning  arose  with  different  prospects 
and  hopes  to  the  Persians  and  Greeks.  To  the 
former  it  discovered  the  extent  of  their  misfor- 
tunes ; to  the  latter  it  brought  a reinforcement 
of  fifty-three  Athenian  ships.  Encouraged  by 
this  favourable  circumstance,  they  determined 
again  to  attack  the  enemy,  at  the  same  hour  as 
on  the  preceding  day,  because  their  knowledge 
of  the  coast,  and  their  skill  in  fighting  their 
ships,  rendered  the  dusk  peculiarly  propitious 
to  their  designs.  At  the  appointed  time,  they 
sailed  towards  the  road  of  Aphete,  and  having 
cut  off  the  Cilician  squadron  from  the  rest, 
totally  destroyed  it;  and  returned  at  night  to 
Artemisium. 

The  Persian  commanders  being  deeply  affect- 
ed with  their  repeated  disasters,  but  still  more 
alarmed  at  the  much  dreaded  resentment  of 
their  king,  they  determined  to  make  one  vigor- 
ous effort,  for  restoring  the  glory  of  their  arms. 
By  art  and  stratagem,  and  under  favour  of  the 
night,  the  Greeks  had  hitherto  gained  many 
important  advantages.  It  now  belonged  to  the 
Persians  to  choose  the  time  for  action.  On  the 
third  day  at  noon,  they  sailed  forth  in  the  form 
of  a crescent,  which  was  still  sufficiently  exten- 
sive to  infold  the  Grecian  line.  The  Greeks, 
animated  by  former  success,  were  averse  to 
decline  any  offer  of  battle  ; yet  it  is  probable 
that  their  admirals,  and  particularly  Themis- 
tocles,  would  much  rather  have  delayed  it  to  a 
more  favourable  opportunity.  Rage,  resent- 
ment, and  indignation,  supplied  the  defect  of 
the  Barbarians  in  skill  and  courage.  The  bat- 
tle was  longer,  and  more  doubtful,  than  on  any 


[Chap. 

former  occasion;  many  Grecian  vessels  were 
destroyed,  five  were  taken  by  the  Egyptians, 
who  particularly  signalized  themselves  on  the 
side  of  the  Barbarians,  as  the  Athenians  did  on 
that  of  the  Greeks.  The  persevering  valour  of 
the  latter  at  length  prevailed,  the  enemy  re- 
tiring, and  acknowledging  their  superiority,  by 
leaving  them  in  possession  of  the  dead  and  the 
wreck.  But  the  victory  cost  them  dear  ; since 
their  vessels,  particularly  those  of  the  Athe- 
nians, were  reduced  to  a very  shattered  condi- 
tion ; and  their  great  inferiority  in  the  number 
and  size  of  their  ships,  made  them  feel  more 
sensibly  every  diminution  of  strength. 

This  circumstance  was  sufficient  to  make 
them  think  of  retiring  (while  they  might  yet 
retire  in  safety)  to  the  shores  of  the  Corinthian 
Isthmus.  The  inclination  to  this  measure  re- 
ceived additional  force  from  considering,  that 
the  Persians,  however  unfortunate  by  sea,  had 
still  an  immense  army  ; whereas  the  principal 
hope  of  Greece  centered  in  its  fleet.  While  the 
commanders  were  occupied  with  these  reflec- 
tions, Abronycus,  an  Athenian,  who  had  been 
entrusted  with  a galley  of  thirty  oars,  to  cruise 
in  the  Malian  bay,  and  to  watch  the  event  of 
the  battle  of  Thermopylae,  arrived  with  an  ac- 
count of  the  glorious  death  of  Leonidas.  The 
engagements  by  sea  and  land  had  been  fought 
on  the  same  day.  In  both  the  Greeks  defended 
a narrow  pass,  against  a superior  power ; and 
in  both  the  Persians  had,  with  very  different 
success,  attempted,  by  surrounding,  to  conquer 
them.  The  intelligence  brought  by  Abronycus 
confirmed  their  resolution  of  sailing  southward; 
for  it  seemed  of  very  little  importance  to  de- 
fend the  shores,  after  the  enemy  had  obtained 
possession  of  the  centre  of  the  northern  territo- 
ries. Having  passed  the  narrow  Euripus,  they 
coasted  along  the  shore  of  Attica,  and  anchored 
in  the  strait  of  the  Saronic  Gulf,  which  sepa- 
rates the  island  of  Salamis  from  the  harbours 
of  Athens.2 

Before  they  left  Artemisium,  Themistocles, 
ever  watchful  to  promote  the  interest  of  his 
country,  endeavoured  to  alienate3  from  the 
great  king  the  affections  of  his  bravest  auxilia- 
ries. Contrary  to  the  advice  of  the  prudent 
Artabanus,  Xerxes  had  conducted  the  Asiatic 
Greeks  to  an  unnatural  expedition  against  their 
mother-country.  His  wise  kinsman  in  vain 
persuaded  him  to  send  them  back,  because  it 
appeared  equally  dishonourable  and  dangerous 
to  depend  on  the  service  of  men,  which  could 
only  be  employed  in  his  favour  at  the  expense 
of  every  principle  of  duty,  and  of  every  senti- 
ment of  virtue,,  By  hope  and  fear,  by  threats 
and  promises,  and  chiefly  by  honouring  them 
with  marks  of  distinguished  preference,  Xerxes 
had  hitherto  preserved  their  reluctant  fidelity. 
In  order  at  once  to  destroy  a connection,  which 
of  its  own  accord  seemed  ready  to  dissolve. 
Themistocles  engraved  on  the  rocks,  near  the 
watering-place  of  Artemisium,  the  following 
words  : “ Men  of  Ionia,  your  conduct  is  most 
unjust  in  fighting  against  your  ancestors,  and 
in  attempting  to  enslave  Greece;  resolve,  there- 
fore, while  it  is  yet  in  your  power,  to  repair  the 


1 Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  xiii.  Diodor.  1.  xi.  c.  xiii. 


2 Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  xxi. 


3 Ibid.  c.  xxii. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


123 


X.] 

injury. — If  you  cannot  immediately  desert  from 
the  Persian  fleet,  yet  it  will  be  easy  for  you  to 
accomplish  this  design  when  we  come  to  an 
engagement.  You  ought  to  remember,  that 
yourselves  gave  occasion  to  the  quarrel  be- 
tween us  and  the  Barbarians  ; and  further,  that 
the  same  duties  which  children  owe  to  their 
parents,  colonies  owe  to  their  mother-country.”4 

When  news  arrived  that  the  Grecian  fleet 
had  abandoned  Artemisium,  Xerxes  regarded 
this  retreat  of  the  enemy  as  equal  to  a victory. 
He  therefore  issued  orders,  that  his  naval  force, 
after  ravaging  the  coasts  of  Euboea,  should  pro- 
ceed to  take  possession  of  the  harbours  of 
Athens;  while,  at  the  head  of  his  irresistible 
army,  he  intended  to  make  a victorious  pro- 
cession, rather  than  a march,  into  the  Attic  ter- 
ritory. The  road  thither  from  Thermopylae 
passed  through  the  countries  of  Phocis  and 
Boeotia,  the  latter  of  which  had  already  ac- 
knowledged his  authority.  The  Phocians  ad- 
hered to  the  cause  of  Greece  ; and  were  still 
further  confirmed  in  their  allegiance,  after  the 
Thessalians,  their  inveterate  enemies,  had  em- 
braced the  party  of  Xerxes  Such  were  the 
violent  animosities  which  divided  these  hostile 
states,  that,  in  the  opinion  of  Herodotus,  which- 
ever side  the  Thessalians  had  taken,  the  Pho- 
cians would  still  have  opposed  them.  He 
might  perhaps  have  extended  the  observation 
to  the  other  principal  republics.  The  enthu- 
siasm of  Athens  and  Sparta  in  defending  the 
cause  of  Greece,  rendered  the  rival  states  of 
Thebes  and  Argos  zealous  in  the  service  of 
Persia ; and  it  is  to  be  remembered,  to  the  im- 
mortal glory  of  the  friends  of  liberty  and  their 
country,  that  they  had  to  struggle  with  domes- 
tic sedition,  while  they  opposed  and  defeated  a 
foreign  invasion. 

Having  entered  the  territory  of  Phocis,  the 
Persian  army  separated  into  two  divisions,  with 
a view  to  obtain  more  plentiful  supplies  of  the 
necessaries  of  life,  and  to  destroy  more  com- 
pletely the  possessions  of  their  enemies.  The 
most  numerous  division  followed  the  course  of 
the  river  Cephissus,  which  flows  from  the  Thes- 
salian mountains,  to  the  lake  Copais  in  Boeotia. 
The  fertile  banks  of  the  Cephissus  were  adorn- 
ed by  Charadra,  Neon,  Elatsea,  and  other 
populous  cities,  all  of  which  were  burned  or 
demolished  by  the  fury  of  Xerxes,  and  the  re- 
sentment of  the  Thessalians.  Historians  par- 
ticularly regret  the  destruction  of  the  sacred 
walls  of  Ab6,  a city  held  in  peculiar  respect  on 
account  of  the  temple  of  Apollo,  famed  for  its 
unerring  oracles,  and  enriched  from  the  earliest 
times  by  the  pious  donations  of  superstition. 
The  inhabitants  had  in  general  abandoned  their 
towns,  and  taken  refuge  in  the  most  inaccessible 
retreats  of  mount  Parnassus.  But  the  natives 
of  Ab£,  vainly  confiding  for  safety  in  the  sanc- 
tity of  the  place,  became  a prey  to  an  undis- 
tinguishing rage,  which  equally  disregarded 
things  sacred  and  profane.  The  men  perished 
by  the  sword,  the  women  by  the  brutal  lust  of 
the  Barbarians. 


4 This  8enlimentiB  the  dictate  of  nature,  and  occurs  often 
in  the  Roman  as  well  as  the  Greek  writers.  “ Quae  liberi 
parentibus  ea  coloni  antiqu®  patriro  debent.”  T.  Livius. 


After  committing  these  dreadful  ravages,  the 
principal  division  of  the  army  marched  into 
Boeotia,  by  the  way  of  Orchomenus.  The  smaller 
part  (if  either  portion  of  such  an  immense  host 
may  be  distinguished  by  that  epithet)  stretched 
to  the  right,  along  the  western  skirts  of  mount 
Parnassus,  and  traced  a line  of  devastation 
from  the  banks  of  the  Cephissus  to  the  temple  of 
Delphi.  Such  was  the  fame  of  the  immense 
riches  collected  in  this  sacred  edifice,  that 
Xerxes  is  said  to  have  been  as  well  acquainted 
with  their  amount  as  with  that  of  his  own 
treasury ; and,  to  believe-  the  adulation  of  his 
followers,  he  alone  was  worthy  to  possess  that 
invaluable  depository.  The  Delphians  having 
learned,  by  the  unhappy  fate  of  Abe,  that  their 
religious  employment  could  not  afford  protec- 
tion, either  to  their  property  or  to  their  persons, 
consulted  the  oracle,  “ Whether  they  should 
hide  their  treasures  under  ground,  or  transport 
them  to  some  neighbouring  country?”  The 
Pythia  replied,  “ That  the  arms  of  Apollo  were 
sufficient  for  the  defence  of  his  shrine.”  The 
Delphians,  therefore,  confined  their  attention  to 
the  means  necessary  for  their  personal  safety. 
The  women  and  children  were  transported  by 
sea  to  Achia ; the  men  climbed  to  the  craggy 
tops  of  mount  Cirphis,  or  descended  to  the 
deep  caverns  of  Parnassus.  Only  sixty  persons, 
the  immediate  ministers  of  Apollo,  kept  pos- 
session of  the  sacred  city.  But,  could  we  credit 
the  testimony  of  ancient  historians,  it  soon  ap 
peared  that  the  gods  had  not  abandoned 
Delphi:  scarcely  had  the  Persians  reached  the 
temple  of  Minerva  the  Provident,  situated  at 
a little  distance  from  town,  when  the  air 
thickened  into  an  unusual  darkness.  A violent 
storm  arose ; the  thunder  and  lightning  were 
terrible.  At  length  the  tempest  burst  on  mount 
Parnassus,  and  separated  from  its  sides  two  im- 
mense rocks,  which  rolling  down  with  increased 
violence,  overwhelmed  the  nearest  ranks  of  the 
Persians.  The  shattered  fragments  of  the 
mountain,  which  long  remained  in  the  grove  of 
Minerva,  were  regarded  by  the  credulity  of  the 
Greeks  as  a standing  proof  of  the  miracle.  But 
without  supposing  any  supernatural  interven- 
tion, we  may  believe,  that  an  extraordinary 
event,  happening  on  an  extraordinary  occasion, 
would  produce  great  terror  and  consternation  in 
the  Barbarian  army,  since  many  of  the  nations 
which  composed  it  acknowledged  the  divinity 
of  Apollo,  and  must  therefore  have  been  sensi- 
ble of  their  intended  impiety,  in  despoiling  his 
temple.  The  awful  solemnity  of  the  place  con- 
spired with  the  horrors  of  the  tempest,  and  the 
guilty  feelings  of  their  own  consciences.  These 
united  terrors  were  sufficient  to  disturb  all  the 
rational  principles  of  their  minds,  and  even  to 
confound  the  clearest  perceptions  of  their  senses. 
They  imagined,  that  they  heard  many  sounds, 
which  they  did  not  hear;  and  that  they  saw 
many  phantoms,  which  they  did  not  see.  A 
universal  panic  seized  them ; at  first  they  re- 
mained motionless,  in  silent  amazement;  they 
afterwards  fled  with  disordered  steps  and  wild 
despair.  The  Delphians,  who,  perceived  their 
confusion,  and  who  believed  that  the  gods,  by 
the  most  manifest  signs,  defended  their  favour- 
ite abode,  rushed  impetuously  from  their  fast- 


124 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


nesses,  and  destroyed  great  numbers  of  the 
terrified  and  unresisting  enemy.1  The  remain- 
der took  the  road  of  Bceotia,  in  or^er  to  join 
the  main  body  under  Xerxes,  which  having 
already  destroyed  the  hostile  cities  of  Thespiss 
and  Platsea,  was  marching  with  full  expectation 
to  inflict  complete  vengeance  on  the  Athenians. 

The  united  army  arrived  in  the  Attic  terri- 
tory three  months  after  their  passage  over  the 
Hellespont.  They  laid  waste  the  country, 
burned  the  cities,  and  levelled  the  temples  with 
the  ground.  At  length  they  took  possession  of 
the  capital ; but  the  inhabitants,  by  a retreat  no 
less  prudent  than  magnanimous, had  withdrawn 
from  the  fury  of  their  resentment. 

It  was  impossible  for  the  Athenians  at  once 
to  oppose  the  Persian  army,  which  marched 
from  Bceotia,  and  to  defend  the  western  coasts 
of  Greece  against  the  ravages  of  a numerous 
fleet.  The  inhabitants  of  Peloponnesus,  des- 
pairing of  being  able  to  resist  the  enemy  in  the 
open  field,  had  begun  to  build  a wall  across 
the  isthmus  of  Corinth,  as  their  only  security 
on  the  side  of  the  land  against  the  Barbaric  in- 
vasion. In  these  circumstances,  the  Athenians, 
by  the  advice  of  Themistocles,  embraced  a re- 
solution which  eclipsed  the  glory  of  all  their 
former  exploits.  They  abandoned  to  the  Per- 
sian rage  their  villages,  their  territory,  their 
walls,  their  city  itself,  with  the  revered  tombs 
of  their  ancestors ; their  wives  and  children, 
and  aged  parents,  were  transported  to  the  isles 
of  Salamis  and  iEgina,  and  to  the  generous 
city  of  Trsezone,  on  the  Argolic  coast,  which, 
notwithstanding  the  defection  of  Argos,  the 
capital  of  that  province,  steadfastly  adhered  to 
the  maxims  of  patriotism,  and  the  duties  of 
friendship.  The  embarkation  was  made  with 
such  haste,  that  the  inhabitants  were  obliged  to 
leave  behind  them  their  household  furniture, 
their  statues  and  pictures,  and  in  general  the 
most  valuable  part  of  their  property.  But  they 
were  willing  to  relinquish  all  for  the  sake  of 
their  country,  which  they  well  knew  consisted 
not  in  their  houses,  lands,  and  effects,2  but  in 
that  equal  constitution  of  government,  which 
they  had  received  from  their  ancestors,  and 
which  it  was  their  dutv  to  transmit  unimpaired 
to  posterity.  This  constitution  it  was  impos- 
sible for  them  to  defend,  unless  they  deter- 
mined, at  the  risk  of  their  lives,  and  of  every 
thing  dear  to  them,  to  maintain  the  general  in- 
dependence of  the  Grecian  confederacy  ; the 
interest  of  which  became  doubly  precious,  by 
being  thus  inseparably  connected  with  their 
own. 

The  Athenians  capable  of  bearing  arms  or 
of  handling  an  oar,  embarked  on  board  the 
fleet  stationed  at  Salamis.  The  ships  equipped 
and  manned  by  them  alone,  exceeded  in  num- 
ber those  of  all  their  allies  together,  although 
the  combined  force  was  considerably  augmented 
by  the  naval  strength  of  Epirus  and  Arcanania, 


1 Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  xxxvii.  et  seq.  et.  Diodor.  1.  xi.  p.250. 

2 Ou  \i5oi,  oujs  £u\cc  o v$e 

Tf%vif  tsxtoviuv  oti  7roKcig  ei<rivt 
Axx’  osTOu  ?r or’  ccv  a xr»v  ANAPES 
Autooj  troifaiv  £iJ'OT£f> 

Evr *v§*  rax't  ***  sroA-iif. 

Alc*ub,  apud  Aristid. 


[Chap. 

which,  formerly  doubtful  and  irresolute,  had 
been  determined  to  the  side  of  Greece  by  the 
fortunate  issue  of  the  engagements  at  Arte- 
misium.  The  whole  Grecian  armament,  thus 
increased,  amounted  to  three  hundred  and 
eighty  vessels.  That  of  the  Persians,  which 
now  took  possession  of  the  Athenian  harbours, 
lying  to  the  south  of  the  strait  occupied  by  the 
Greeks,  had  also  received  a powerful  reinforce- 
ment. The  Locrians,  Boeotians,  and  in  general 
every  people  who  had  submitted  to  their  arms, 
readily  supplying  them  with  ships  ; and  several 
of  the  Egean  islands  having  at  length  prepared 
the  quota  which  they  had  formerly  been  com- 
manded to  furnish.  We  are  not  exactly  in- 
formed of  the  number  or  strength  of  the  addi- 
tional squadron;  but  it  was  supposed  fully  to 
compensate  the  loss  occasioned  by  storms  and 
sea-fights,  and  to  restore  the  Persian  fleet  to  its 
original  complement  of  twelve  hundred  sail.3 

Trusting  to  the  immense  superiority  of  his 
armament,  Xerxes  was  still  desirous  to  make 
trial  of  his  fortune  at  sea,  notwithstanding  his 
former  disasters  on  that  element.  But  before 
he  came  to  a final  resolution,  he  summoned  a 
council  of  war,  in  order  to  hear  the  opinion  of 
his  maritime  subjects  or  allies.  The  tributary 
kings  of  Tyre  and  Sidon,  the  leaders  of  the 
Egyptians,  Cyprians,  and  Cilicians,  ever  ready 
to  flatter  the  passions  of  their  sovereign,  offered 
many  frivolous  reasons  in  favour  of  the  alter- 
native to  which  they  perceived  him  inclined. 
But  in  the  fleet  of  Xerxes  there  wras  a Grecian 
queen  named  Artemisia,  vfridow  of  the  prince 
of  Halicarnassus,  and  who  had  assumed  the 
government  of  that  city  and  territory  for  the 
benefit  of  her  infant  son.  Compelled  by  the 
order  of  Xerxes,  or  perhaps  irritated  against 
the  Athenians  for  some  reasons  which  history 
does  not  record,  she  not  only  fitted  out  five 
ships  to  attend  the  Persian  expedition,  but  took 
upon  herself  the  command  of  her  little  squad- 
ron, and  on  every  occasion  conducted  it  with 
equal  skill  and  bravery.  Such  vigour  of  mind, 
united  with  so  delicate  a form,  deserved  to 
excite  admiration  in  every  part  of  the  world ; 
but  the  manly  spirit  of  Artemisia  becomes  still 
more  admirable,  when  we  consider  the  severe 
restraints  which  have  been  in  all  ages  imposed 
on  the  female  sex,  by  the  manners  and  climate 
of  Asia.  Her  superior  genius  recommended 
her  to  the  peculiar  favour  of  Xerxes,  who  was 
obliged  to  esteem  in  a woman  the  virtues  which 
he  himself  wanted  spirit  to  practise.  Trusting 
to  his  advantageous  opinion  of  her  courage  and 
fidelity,  Artemisia  dissented  from  the  general 
voice  of  the  allies,  and  even  opposed  the  incli- 
nation of  the  prince.  u Her  former  exploits  on 
the  coast  of  Eubcea  afforded  sufficient  proof 
that  her  present  advice  was  not  the  child  of 
timidity.  She  had  been  ever  forward  to  ex- 
pose her  person  and  her  fame  in  the  service 
of  the  great  king;  but  it  was  impossible  to  dis- 
semble the  manifest  superiority  of  the  Greeks 
in  naval  affairs.  Yet,  were  the  two  armaments 
as  much  on  a foot  of  equality  in  point  of  brave- 
ry and  experience,  as  they  were  unequal  in 
numbers,  what  motive  could  induce  Xerxes  to 


3 Herodot.  Diodor,  ubi  supra;  et  Plut.  in  Th^miatocle. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


125 


X.] 

venture  another  engagement  at  sea?  Was  he 
not  already  in  possession  of  Athens,  the  great 
object  of  the  war?  The  Spartans,  who  had  op- 
posed his  progress  at  Thermopylee,  had  reaped 
the  just  fruits  of  their  temerity  : those  assem- 
bled at  the  isthmus  of  Corinth  might  easily  be 
involved  in  a similar  fate.  The  Peloponnesus 
might  then  be  laid  waste  by  fire  and  sword, 
which  wrould  complete  the  destruction  of 
Greece.  Instead  of  proceeding  immediately 
to  that  peninsula,  should  Xerxes  choose  to  con- 
tinue only  a few  weeks  in  the  Attic  territory, 
four  hundred  Grecian  ships  could  not  long  be 
supplied  with  provisions  from  the  barren  rocks 
of  Salamis.  Necessity  must  compel  them  to 
surrender,  or  drive  them  to  their  respective 
cities,  where  they  would  become  an  easy  prey 
to  the  Persian  arms.”  These  judicious  obser- 
vations were  heard  without  approbation ; the 
worst  opinion  prevailed,  being  the  best  adapted 
to  flatter  the  vanity  of  Xerxes. 

When  the  Grecian  commanders  observed 
that  the  enemy  prepared  to  venture  another 
engagement  at  sea,  they  likewise  assembled  to 
deliberate  whether  they  should  continue  in  the 
strait  between  Salamis  and  Attica,  or  proceed 
further  up  the  gulf,  towards  the  Corinthian 
isthmus.  The  latter  proposal  was  generally 
approved  by  the  confederates  of  Peloponnesus, 
who  anxiously  desired,  in  the  present  emer- 
gency, to  approach  as  near  as  possible  to  their 
respective  cities.  Some  hastened  to  their  ships, 
and  hoisted  sail,  in  order  to  depart;  and  it 
seemed  likely  that  their  example  would  be 
soon  followed  by  the  whole  fleet.  On  board 
the  ship  of  Themistocles  was  Mnesiphilus,  for- 
merly mentioned  as  the  instructor  of  his  youth, 
and  who  now  accompanied  him  as  his  counsel- 
lor and  friend.  The  experienced  wisdom  of 
Mnesiphilus  readily  discerned,  that  should  the 
Greeks  sail  from  Salamis,  it  would  be  impossi- 
ble to  prevent  the  general  dispersion  of  their 
armament.  He  therefore  exhorted  Themisto- 
cles, to  endeavour,  by  all  means  possible,  to 
prevent  this  fatal  measure ; and  particularly  to 
persuade  the  Spartan  admiral,  Euribiades,  to 
alter  his  present  intention. 

Themistocles  readily  embraced  the  opinion 
of  his  friend.  Having  waited  on  Euribiades, 
he  obtained  his  consent  to  summon  a second 
assembly  of  the  confederates.  After  they  were 
fully  convened,  the  Athenian  began  to  call  their 
attention  to  the  state  of  their  affairs ; but  his 
discourse  was  insolently  interrupted  by  Adi- 
mantus,  the  commander  of  the  Corinthians, 
who  had  constantly  discovered  a particular 
solicitude  for  returning  to  the  isthmus.  The- 
mistocles, no  less  prudent  than  brave,  answered 
his  reproaches  with  calmness,  and  then  ad- 
dressing himself  to  Euribiades,  “The  fate  of 
Greece,”  said  he,  “depends  on  the  decision  of 
the  present  moment,  and  that  decision  on  you ; 
if  you  resolve  to  sail  to  the  isthmus,  we  must 
abandon  Salamis,  Megara,  and  iEgina;  we 
shall  be  compelled  to  fight  in  an  open  sea, 
where  the  enemy  may  fully  avail  themselves 
of  their  superior  numbers ; and  as  the  Persian 
army  will  certainly  attend  the  motions  of  their 
fleet,  we  shall  draw  their  combined  strength  to- 
wards the  Grecian  peninsula,  our  last  and  only  | 


retreat.  But  if  you  determine  to  retain  the 
ships  in  their  present  station,  the  Persians  will 
find  it  impossible,  in  a narrow  channel,  to 
attack  us  at  once  with  their  whole  force : we 
shall  preserve  Megara  and  Salamis,  and  we 
shall  effectually  defend  Peloponnesus;  for  the 
Barbarians  being,  as  I firmly  trust,  defeated  in 
a naval  engagement,  will  not  penetrate  further 
than  Attica,  but  return  home  with  disgrace.” 
He  had  scarcely  ended  his  words,  when  Adi- 
mantus  broke  forth  into  new  invectives,  affect- 
ing surprise  that  Euribiades  should  listen  to  a 
man  who,  since  the  taking  of  Athens,  had  not 
any  city  to  defend : that  the  Athenians  ought 
then  to  have  a voice  in  the  council  when  they 
could  say  they  had  a home.  Themistocles  re- 
plied, “that  the  Athenians  had  indeed  under- 
valued their  private  estates  and  possessions,  in 
comparison  of  their  political  independence,  and 
the  general  safety  of  Greece,  and  gloriously 
abandoned  their  city  in  defence  of  their  country. 
But  notwithstanding  this  sacrifice  for  the  public 
good,  they  had  still  a home  far  more  valuable 
than  Corinth,  two  hundred  ships  of  war  well 
armed  and  manned,  which  no  nation  of  Greece 
could  resist.  That  should  the  confederates  per- 
sist in  their  present  dangerous  resolution,  the 
Athenians  would  in  these  ships  embark  their 
wives  and  families;  desert  a country,  which 
had  first  forsaken  itself ; and  repair  to  the  coast 
of  Italy,  where  it  was  foretold  by  ancient  ora- 
cles, that  Atheris  should,  in  some  future  time, 
form  a great  and  flourishing  settlement.  That 
the  Greeks  would  then  remember  and  regret 
the  advice  of  Themistocles,  when,  abandoned  by 
the  most  considerable  part  of  their  allies,  they 
became  an  easy  prey  to  the  Barbarian  invader.” 
The  firmness  of  this  discourse  shook  the  reso- 
lution of  the  confederates;  and  it  was  deter- 
mined by  the  majority  to  continue  at  Salamis 

Between  this  important  resolve  and  the  en- 
gagement, there  intervened  a moment  of  the 
most  anxious  solicitude.  The  minds  of  men, 
impressed  with  the  awful  idea  of  the  events 
about  to  be  transacted,  were  thrown  off  their 
ordinary  bias;  and  as  the  operations  of  nature, 
and  the  agency  of  invisible  beings,  are  always 
fondly  connected  in  the  imagination  with  the 
momentous  concerns  of  human  life,  the  Greeks 
felt,  or  believed  they  felt,  extraordinary  con- 
vulsions of  the  elements ; they  saw,  or  fancied 
they  saw,  hideous  spectres  in  the  air ; and 
heard,  or  imagined  they  heard,  the  most  terri- 
ble and  threatening  voices.4  But  all  these 
strange  and  supernatural  appearances,  which 
would  otherwise  have  been  doubtful  or  alarm- 
ing, were  proved,  by  a clear  and  explicit  oracle, 
to  foretel  the  destruction  of  the  Barbarians. 

Notwithstanding  this  favourable  intimation 
of  the  divine  will,  which  was  carefully  improved 
by  the  wisdom  and  eloquence  of  Themistocles, 
the  Peloponnesians  were  ready  to  return  to 
their  first  determination.  A vessel  arriving 
from  the  Isthmus,  brought  advice  that  the  for- 
tifications there  were  almost  completed ; if  the 
fleet  retired  to  the  neighbouring  shore,  the 
sailors  might,  even  after  a defeat  at  sea,  take 
refuge  behind  their  walls;  but  if  conquered 


4 Lysias  Fun.  Orat.  FTerodot.  ibid. 


126 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


near  the  coasts  of  Salamis,  they  would  be  for 
ever  separated  from  their  families  and  friends, 
and  confined,  without  hope  or  resource,  within 
the  narrow  limits  of  a barren  island.  In  im- 
portant alternatives,  when  the  arguments  on 
each  side  are  almost  equally  persuasive,  the 
party  which  we  have  embraced  often  appears 
the  worst,  merely  because  we  have  embraced 
it.  Any  new  circumstance  or  consideration  is 
always  capable  of  changing  the  balance,  and  we 
hastily  approve  what  we  rejected  after  much 
deliberation.  Lest  this  propensity  should,  as 
there  was  much  reason  to  fear,  again  discon- 
cert his  measures,  Themistocles  determined  to 
prevent  the  Greeks  from  the  possibility  of  grati- 
fying it.  There  commonly  lived  in  his  family 
a man  named  Sicinus,  who  at  present  accom- 
panied him.  He  was  originally  a slave,  and 
employed  in  the  education  of  his  children  ; but 
by  the  generosity  of  his  patron,  had  acquired 
the  rank  of  citizen,  with  considerable  riches. 
The  firmness  and  fidelity  of  this  man  rendered 
him  a proper  instrument  for  executing  a strata- 
gem, which  concealed,  under  the  mask  of  trea- 
chery, the  enthusiasm  of  public  virtue.  Hav- 
ing received  his  instructions  from  Themistocles, 
he  privately  sailed  to  the  Persian  fleet,  and  ob- 
taining admission  into  the  presence  of  Xerxes, 
declared,  “ That  he  had  been  sent  by  the  cap- 
tain of  the  Athenians,  who  could  no  longer 
endure  the  insolence  of  his  countrymen,  to 
acquaint  the  great  king,  that  the  Greeks,  seized 
with  consternation  at  the  near  approach  of 
danger,  had  determined  to  make  their  escape 
under  cover  of  the  night : that  now  was  the 
time  for  the  Persians  to  achieve  the  most  glori- 
ous of  all  their  exploits,  and,  by  intercepting 
the  flight  of  their  enemies,  accomplish  their 
destruction  at  once.1  The  deceit  was  believed ; 
the  whole  day,  and  the  greatest  part  of  the 
succeeding  night,  the  Persians  employed  in  se- 
curing the  several  passages  between  the  islands 
and  the  adjacent  coast;  and  that  nothing  might 
be  neglected  that  could  contribute  to  their  suc- 
cess, they  filled  the  little  isle,  or  rather  rock, 
of  Psyttalea,  lying  between  Salamis  and  the 
continent,  witli  the  flower  of  the  Persian  in- 
fantry, in  order  to  intercept  the  miserable  rem- 
nant of  the  Greeks,  who,  after  the  expected 
defeat,  would  fly  thither  for  refuge. 

The  first  intelligence  of  these  operations  was 
brought  to  the  Grecian  fleet  by  Aristides  the 
Athenian,  who  seems  not  to  have  availed  him- 
self of  the  general  act  of  indemnity  to  return 
from  banishment,  but  who  readily  embraced 
every  opportunity  to  serve  his  country.  Hav- 
ing with  difficulty  escaped  in  a small  vessel 
from  the  isle  of  iEgina,  the  generous  patriot 
immediately  communicated  an  account  of  what 
he  had  seen  there  to  his  rival  and  enemy,  The- 
mistocles, who,  meeting  his  generosity  with 
equal  frankness,  made  him  the  confidant  of  his 
secret.  Their  interview  was  as  memorable  as 
the  occasion;  and,  after  a continued  life  of  op- 
position and  hatred,  they  now  first  agreed  to 
suspend  their  private  animosities,  in  order  to 
promote  the  common  interest  of  their  country. 
As  the  Peloponnesian  commanders  were  either 


[Chap, 

wavering  and  irresolute,  or  had  determined  to 
set  sail,  Aristides  was  desired  to  inform  them 
of  the  arrangement  which  he  had  seen ; the 
consideration  of  his  country  however  rendered 
his  evidence  suspected,  and  it  was  imagined 
that  he  meant  to  sacrifice  the  general  interest 
of  the  confederates  to  the  safety  of  the  Athe- 
nian families  in  Salamis.  But  the  arrival  of  a 
vessel  belonging  to  the  isle  of  Tenos  confirmed 
the  veracity  of  his  report,  and  the  Pelopon- 
nesians resolved  to  fight,  because  it  was  impos- 
sible to  fly.2 

Before  the  dawn  of  the  day  the  Grecian  ships 
were  drawn  up  in  order  of  battle ; and  the  Per- 
sians, who  had  been  surprised  at  not  finding 
them  attempt  to  escape  during  night,  were  stil 
more  surprised  when  morning  discovered  thei 
close  and  regular  arrangement.  The  Greeks 
began  with  the  light  their  sacred  hymns  and 
posans,  which  preceded  their  triumphant  songs 
of  war,  accompanied  by  the  animating  sound 
of  the  trumpet.  The  shores  of  Attica  re-echoed 
to  the  rocks  of  Salamis  and  Psyttalea.  The 
Grecian  acclamations  filled  the  sky.  Neither 
their  appearance  nor  their  words  betokened 
flight  or  fear,  but  rather  determined  intrepidity, 
and  invincible  courage.  Yet  was  their  valour 
tempered  with  wisdom.  Themistocles  delay- 
ed ,the  attack  until  the  ordinary  breeze  should 
spring  up,  which  was  no  less  favourable  to  the 
experience  of  the  Grecian  mariners,  than  dan- 
gerous to  the  lofty  unwieldiness  of  the  Persian 
ships.3  The  signal  was  then  given  for  the 
Athenian  line  to  bear  down  against  that  of  the 
Phoenicians,  which  rode  on  the  west,  off  the 
coast  of  Eleusis;  while  the  Peloponnesians  ad- 
vanced against  the  enemy’s  left  wing  stationed 
on  the  east,  near  the  harbour  of  the  Pirams. 
The  Persians,  confiding  in  their  number,  and 
secure  of  victory,  did  not  decline  the  fight. 
A Phoenician  galley,  of  uncommon  size  and 
strength,  was  distinguished  in  the  front  of  their 
line  by  every  circumstance  of  naval  pomp.  In 
the  eagerness  to  engage,  she  far  outstripped 
her  companions;  but  her  career  was  checked 
midway  between  the  two  fleets  by  an  Athenian 
galley  which  had  sailed  forth  to  meet  her. 
The  first  shock  shattered  her  sculptured  prow, 
the  second  buried  her  in  the  waves.  The 
Athenians,  encouraged  by  this  auspicious  pre- 
lude, proceeded  with  their  whole  force,  animat- 
ing each  other  to  the  combat  by  a martial  song : 
“ Advance,  ye  sons  of  Athens,  save  your  coun- 
try, defend  your  wives  and  children,  deliver  the 
temples  of  your  gods,  regain  the  sacred  tombs 
of  your  renowned  forefathers  ; this  day,  the 
common  cause  of  Greece  demands  your  va- 
lour.” The  battle  was  bloody  and  destructive, 
and  disputed  on  the  side  of  the  Persians  with 
more  obstinate  resistance  than  on  any  former 
occasion  ; for,  from  the  Attic  coast,  seated  on 
a lofty  throne  on  the  top  of  mount  ^Egialos, 
Xerxes  observe.d  the  scene  of  action,  and  atten- 
tively remarked,  with  a view  to  reward  and 
punish,  the  various  behaviour  of  his  subjects. 
The  presence  of  their  prince  operated  on  their 
hopes,  and  still  more  powerfully  on  their  fears. 


1 Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  Ixxv. 


2 Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  lxxix.  et  seq. 

3 Ibid.  1.  viii.  c.  lxxix.  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


127 


X.] 

Bat  neither  the  hope  of  acquiring  the  favour, 
nor  the  fear  of  incurring  the  displeasure  of  a 
despot,  could  furnish  principles  of  action  wor- 
thy of  being  compared  with  the  patriotism  and 
love  of  liberty  which  actuated  the  Greeks.  To 
the  dignity  of  their  motives,  as  much  as  to  the 
superiority  of  their  skill,  the  latter  owed  their 
unexampled  success  in  this  memorable  engage- 
ment. The  foremost  ships  of  the  Phoenicians 
were  dispersed  or  sunk.  Amidst  the  terror 
and  confusion  occasioned  by  their  repulse,  they 
ran  foul  of  those  which  had  been  drawn  up  in 
two  lines  behind  them.  The  Athenians  skil- 
fully encircled  them  around,  compressed  them 
into  a narrower  space,  and  increased  their  dis- 
order ; they  were  at  length  entangled  in  each 
other,  deprived  of  all  power  of  action,  and,  to 
use  the  humble,  but  expressive  figure  of  an 
eye-witness,  “ caught  and  destroyed  like  fish  in 
a net.”4  Such  was  the  fate  of  the  right  wing; 
while  the  Ionians,  who,  on  the  left,  opposed  the 
fleets  of  Peloponnesus  and  iEgina,  furnished 
them  with  an  opportunity  to  complete  the  vic- 
tory. Many  of  the  Asiatic  Greeks,  mindful 
of  the  advice  given  by  Themistocles,  abandon- 
ed the  interest  of  the  great  king,  and  openly 
declared  for  their  countrymen ; others  declined 
the  engagement ; the  remainder  were  sunk  and 
put  to  flight.  Among  those  whieh  escaped  was 
the  ship  of  queen  Artemisia,  who  in  the  battle 
of  Salamis, displayed  superior  courage  and  con- 
duct : she  was  closely-  pursued  by  an  Athenian 
galley,  commanded  by  Amenias,  brother  of  the 
poet  iEschylus.  In  this  extremity  she  employ- 
ed a successful,  but  very  unwarrantable  strata- 
gem. The  nearest  Persian  vessel  was  com- 
manded by  Damasithymus,  a tributary  prince 
of  Calynda  in  Lycia,  a man  with  whom  Arte- 
mesia  was  at  variance.  With  great  dexterity 
she  darted  the  beak  of  her  galley  against  the 
Lycian  vessel.  Damasithymus  was  buried  in 
the  waves ; and  Amenias,  deceived  by  this 
measure,  equally  artful  and  audacious,  believed 
the  vessel  of  Artemisia  one  of  those  which  had 
deserted  the  Persian  interest.  The  Phoenician 
and  Ionian  squadrons  (for  that  of  the  Egyp- 
tians had  been  exceedingly  weakened  by  the 
action  on  the  coast  of  Euboea)  formed  the 
main  strength  of  the  Persian  armament ; after 
these  were  defeated,  the  ships  at  a distance 
ventured  not  to  advance,  but  hastily  changing 
sail,  measured  back  their  course  to  the  Athe- 
nian and  other  neighbouring  harbours.  The 
victors,  disdaining  to  pursue  them,  dragged  the 
most  valuable  part  of  the  wreck  to  the  coasts 
of  Psyttalea  and  Salamis.  The  narrow  seas 
were  covered  with  floating  carcasses  of  the 
dead,  among  whom  were  few  Greeks  ; as  even 
those  who  lost  their  ships  in  the  engagement, 
saved  their  lives  by  swimming,  an  art  which 
they  universally  learned  as  a necessary  branch 
of  education,  and  with  which  the  Barbarians 
were  totally  unacquainted.5 

Xerxes  had  scarcely  time  to  consider  and 
deplore  the  destruction  and  disgrace  of  his 


4 /Eschylus  Persne. 

5 Before  this  period  it  was  a law  at  Athens  and  other 
Btates,  rouf  jroiiSxi  8i$xTx.e(r6xt  rrg iotov  viiv  t>  x»«  ygxft- 

; that  boys  first  learn  reading  and  swimming.  Sam. 
Pfctit.  de  Leg.  Att.  p.  11. 


fleet,  when  a new  spectacle,  not  less  mournful, 
offered  itself  to  his  sight.  The  flower  of  the 
Persian  infantry  had  taken  post,  as  we  have 
already  observed,  on  the  rocky  isle  of  Psyt- 
talea, in  order  to  receive  the  shattered  remains 
of  the  Grecian  armament,  which,  after  its  ex- 
pected defeat,  would  naturally  take  refuge  on 
that  barren  coast.  But  equally  fallacious  and 
fatal  was  their  conjecture  concerning  the  event 
of  the  battle.  The  Greeks,  disembarking  from 
their  ships,  attacked,  in  the  enthusiasm  of  vic- 
tory, those  astonished  troops,  who,  unable  to 
resist,  and  finding  it  impossible  to  fly,  were  cut 
down  to  a man.  As  Xerxes  beheld  this  dread- 
ful havoc,  he  started  in  wild  agitation  from 
his  silver  throne,  rent  his  royal  robes,  and,  in 
the  first  moment  of  his  returning  tranquillity, 
commanded  the  main  body  of  his  forces,  posted 
along  the  Athenian  coast,  to  return  to  their 
respective  camps. 

From  that  moment  he  resolved  to  return 
with  all  possible  expedition  into  Asia.  Yet  did 
his  fears  and  his  policy  conceal,  for  a few  days, 
the  design,  not  only  from  the  Grecian  but  from 
the  Persian  generals.  Mardomus  alone  was 
too  well  acquainted  with  the  genius  of  his  mas- 
ter, to  believe  that  his  concern  for  the  safety 
of  his  illustrious  person  would  allow  him  to 
remain  longer  than  necessary,  in  a country 
which  had  been  the  scene  of  so  many  calami- 
ties. The  artful  courtier  availed  himself  of 
the  important  secret,  to  divert  the  storm  of 
royal  resentment  which  threatened  the  principal 
author  of  this  inglorious  undertaking.  In  his 
first  interview  with  Xerxes,  he  exhorted  him, 
“ not  to  be  too  deeply  affected  by  the  defeat  of 
his  fleet : that  he  had  come  to  fight  against  the 
Greeks,  not  with  rafts  of  wood,  but  with  sol- 
diers and  horses  : that  the  valour  of  the  Per- 
sians had  opposed  all  resistance,  and  their  in- 
vincible sovereign  was  now  master  of  Athens, 
the  main  object  of  his  ambition  : that  having 
accomplished  the  principal  end  of  the  enter- 
prise, it  was  time  for  the  great  king  to  return 
from  the  fatigues  of  war  to  the  cares  of  govern- 
ment, for  with  three  hundred  thousand  chosen 
men  he  would  undertake  to  prosecute  his  de- 
signs, and  to  complete  his  victory.”  Such  is 
the  language  of  adulation,  too  often  held  to 
princes.  The  other  courtiers  confirmed,  by 
their  approbation,  the  advice  of  Mardonius ; 
and  the  Persian  monarch,  while  he  obeyed  the 
dictates  of  his  own  pusillanimity,  seemed  to 
leave  Greece  in  reluctant  compliance  with  the 
anxious  solicitude  of  his  subjects. 

The  remains  of  the  Persian  fleet,  frightened 
from  the  coast  of  Greece,  returned  to  the  har- 
bours of  Asia  Minor,  and  afterwards  assembled 
and  rendezvoused,  during  the  ensuing  winter, 
in  the  port  of  Cyme.  The  transports  were  or- 
dered to  the  Hellespont,  on  the  banks  of  which 
Xerxes  arrived  with  his  troops  in  forty-five 
days,  after  intolerable  hardships  and  fatigue. 
Famine  and  pestilence  filled  up  the  measure  of 
their  calamities  ; and,  excepting  the  three  hun- 
dred thousand  chosen  men  committed  to  Mar 
donius,  a detachment  of  whom  guarded  the 
royal  person  to  the  coast,  scarcely  a remnant 
was  left  of  so  many  millions.6  The  bridgo 


6 OuLv  cuj  says  Herodotus  emphatically. 


128 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


ostentatiously  erected  on  the  Hellespont  would 
have  presented,  had  it  remained  entire,  a mor- 
tifying monument  of  past  greatness.  But  this 
magnificent  fabric  had  been  destroyed  by  a 
tempest : and  such  is  the  obscurity  with  which 
Xerxes  returned  from  Greece,  compared  with 
the  blaze  of  grandeur  in  which  he  arrived 
there,  that  it  is  uncertain  whether  he  crossed 
the  channel  in  a Phoenician  ship  of  war,  or 
only  in  a fishing-boat.1  Having  returned  to 
Sardis,  he  endeavoured  to  compensate  for  the 
disappointment  of  ambition  by  the  gratification 
of  sensuality,  and  buried  himself  in  pleasures 
more  infamous  and  degrading,  and  not  less 
frightfully  criminal,  than  all  the  disgrace  which 
his  pride  had  incurred,  and  all  the  calamities 
which  his  subjects  had  either  inflicted  or  suf- 
fered.2 

When  the  Greeks  had  leisure  to  examine  the 
extent  and  completeness  of  their  success,  they 
determined  in  the  first  emotions  of  triumph 
and  resentment,  to  pursue  the  shattered  re- 
mains of  the  enemy.  That  no  Barbarian 
might  escape,  they  purposed  immediately  to 
sail  northward,  to  destroy  the  Persian  bridge 
over  the  Hellespont,  and  thus  to  intercept  their 
return.  This  design  was  recommended,  and 
chiefly  supported  by  the  Athenians,  who  having 
experienced  the  greatest  share  of  the  danger, 
felt  most  sensibly  the  joys  of  deliverance.  But 
upon  more  mature  deliberation,  it  occurred  that 
the  Persians  were  still  sufficiently  numerous  to 
afford  just  grounds  of  terror.  To  their  cow- 
ardice and  inexperience,  not  to  their  want  of 
strength,  the  Greeks  owed  all  their  advantages 
over  them ; but  should  the  impossibility  of  re- 
treat be  added  to  their  other  calamities,  they 
might  derive  courage  from  despair,  and,  by 
efforts  hitherto  unexerted,  repair  the  conse- 
quences of  their  past  errors  and  misfortunes. 
These  considerations,  first  suggested,  it  is  said, 
by  Euribiades  the  Spartan,  were  adopted  by 
Themistocles,  who  convinced  his  countrymen 
that  the  jealousy  of  the  Grecian  gods,  unwilling 
that  one  man  should  be  lord  of  Europe  and 
Asia,  rather  than  their  own  prowess,  had  given 
them  the  victory  over  Xerxes ; a prince  of  such 
folly  and  madness,  that  he  had  treated  with 
equal  irreverence  things  human  and  divine, 
destroyed  the  sacred  temples,  overthrown  the 
venerable  altars  and  images,  and  impiously  in- 
sulted the  gods  of  the  Hellespont  with  stripes 
and  fetters.  That  it  was  the  duty  of  the  Athe- 
nians, after  having  gloriously  repelled  the  com- 
mon enemy,  to  provide  for  the  subsistence  of 
their  wives  and  families,  to  sow  their  lands, 
rebuild  their  houses,  and  thus  to  repair,  by  the 
most  industrious  activity,  the  dreadful  ravages 
committed  in  their  territories.3 

Themistocles  had  no  sooner  persuaded  the 
Athenians  to  embrace  his  opinion,  than  he 
secretly  despatched  his  confidant  Sicinus  to 
acquaint  the  great  king  with  the  danger  which 
he  had  so  nearly  escaped,  and  to  advise  him  to 
pursue  his  journey  with  all  possible  expedi- 
tion. Xerxes  readily  believed  a piece  of  infor- 
mation, which  agreed  with  the  suggestions  of 


[Chap. 

his  own  timidity.  The  rapidity  of  his  march 
conspired  with  other  circumstances  above 
mentioned,  in  proving  fatal  to  the  lives  of  his 
followers ; and  the  crafty  Athenian,  who 
knowing  the  unstable  affections  of  the  multi- 
tude, wished  to  deserve  the  gratitude  of  a 
king,  gained  the  double  advantage  of  dispel- 
ling sooner  than  could  otherwise  have  happen- 
ed, that  destructive  cloud  of  Barbarians  which 
hovered  over  his  country,  and  of  convincing 
their  leader,  that  he  was  in  part  indebted  for 
his  safety  to  that  very  man  whose  counsels, 
rather  than  the  arms  of  Greece,  had  occasioned 
his  affliction  and  disgrace. 

The  victory  at  Salamis  terminated  the  se- 
cond act  of  the  Persian  expedition,  which  has, 
with  much  propriety,  been  compared  to  a tra- 
gedy. The  Greeks  soon  understood  that,  not- 
withstanding the  return  of  Xerxes,  three  hun- 
dred thousand  men,  commanded  by  Mardonius, 
were  cantoned  for  the  winter  in  Thrace,  Mace- 
don,  and  Thessaly,  with  a design  to  take  the 
field  early  in  the  spring,  and  again  to  try  the 
fortune  of  war.  This  intelligence  deterred  the 
Athenians  from  bringing  home  their  wives  and 
children,  as  they  originally  intended,  from  Trae- 
zene,  Salamis,  and  iEgina,  because  they  had 
reason  to  dread  that  their  country  would  ex 
perience  new  effects  of  Barbarian  resentment 
It  appears,  however,  that  a few  citizens,  more 
sanguine  in  their  hopes  than  the  rest,  returned 
to  their  ancient  habitations ; while  the  greater 
part  continued  on  board  the  fleet,  or  went  to  re- 
side with  their  friends  in  the  Peloponnesus. 

According  to  modern  ideas,  it  would  be  na- 
tural to  expect,  that  under  the  apprehension  of 
another  formidable  invasion,  the  Greeks  should 
have  employed  the  winter  in  raising  contribu- 
tions, levying  and  disciplining  troops,  and  con- 
certing proper  measures  for  the  public  defence. 
But  such  preparations  wrere  in  some  degree 
unnecessary,  because  in  the  Grecian  republics 
almost  every  citizen  was  a soldier;  and  the 
different  states  were  at  all  times  too  weakly 
united,  to  agree  in  any  uniform  plan  of  opera- 
tions. Besides,  the  customs  and  prejudices  of 
that  early  age  obliged  them  to  observe  many 
forms  and  ceremonies,  which  interfered  with 
employments  seemingly  more  useful,  on  such 
an  ifnportant  emergency.  We  find,  accord- 
ingly, that  instead  of  increasing  or  improving 
their  military  establishment,  the  Greeks  spent 
the  winter4  in  dividing  the  spoil ; assigning  to 
the  different  commanders  the  prizes  of  conduct 
and  valour ; performing  the  last  offices  to  the 
dead  ; celebrating  their  games  and  festivals ; 
and  displaying,  both  in  the  multitude  of  their 
prayers,  and  in  the  magnificence  of  their  offer- 
ings, the  warmest  gratitude  to  their  protecting 
divinities.  The  dedications  to  the  gods  were 
intrinsically  valuable.  The  rewards  bestowed 
on  their  generals  were  simple  tokens  of  public 
esteem.  The  first  consisted  in  vases,  statues, 
and  other  ornaments  of  gold  and  silver ; the 
second  in  a wreath  of  pine,  laurel,  or  olive  : a 
circumstance  which  made  Tigranes  the  Persian, 
exclaim,  “ Heavens ! against  what  men  have 
we  come  to  contend?  insensible  to  interest, 
they  fight  only  for  glory  !” 


1 Confer.  Herod.  Justin.  Corn.  Nepos. 

2 Herodot.  et  Diodor.  ibid. 

3 Herodot  1.  viii.  c.  cviii.  et  seq. 


4  Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  exxi.  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


129 


X.J 

It  is  not  surprising,  that  the  institutions  of 
Greece  should  have  deceived  an  untutored 
Barbarian,  when  we  consider  that  even  the 
modern  philosopher  and  historian  have  been  too 
often  dazzled  by  their  splendour.  Yet  notwith- 
standing what  Tigranes  believed,  and  what, 
from  the  fond  admiration  of  antiquity,  many 
modern  writers  have  asserted,  the  indiscrimi- 
nate praise  of  disinterestedness  by  no  means 
Belonged  to  the  Grecians.  When  the  com- 
manders of  their  several  ships  and  squadrons 
assembled  to  regulate  the  distribution  of  naval 
and  military  rewards,  each  captain,  with  a sel- 
fishness equally  indelicate  and  unjust,  arro- 
gated to  himself  the  first  prize  of  merit;  though 
most  of  them  acknowledged  the  desert  of 
Themistocles  as  second  to  their  own.5  This 
general  assignment  of  the  second,  while  all 
alike  assumed  the  .first  place,  was  equivalent  to 
a public  declaration  in  favour  of  the  Athenian: 
and  the  honours  which  were  conferred  on  him, 
both  in  his  own  country  and  in  Sparta,  suffi- 
ciently confirmed  the  decision.  The  usual 
marks  of  the  public  esteem  were  not  indeed 
attended  with  any  immediate  profit ; but  their 
consequences  were  extremely  beneficial.  Sup- 
ported by  the  favourable  opinion  of  his  coun- 
trymen, a commander  by  sea  or  land  frequently 
attained  an  authority,  the  exercise  of  which 
was  equally  adapted  to  flatter  pride  and  to 
gratify  avarice.  The  behaviour  of  Themisto- 
cles, after  he  had  acquired  sufficient  merit  with 
the  public  to  justify  his  rapacity,  affords  one 
memorable  example  of  this  kind  ; and  we  shall 
meet  with  many  more,  in  examining  the  sub- 
sequent events  of  the  Grecian  history.  Instead 
of  remaining  at  home,  in  order  to  concert  a 
plan  for  repelling  the  danger  which  threatened 
his  country,  the  Athenian  commander  sailed 
with  a little  squadron  to  the  Cyclades,  laid 
these  unfortunate  islands  under  a heavy  con- 
tribution, and  without  the  participation,  or  even 
knowledge  of  his  colleagues  in  command,  en- 
riched himself  and  his  favourites.6 

On  the  approach  of  spring,  Mardonius  pre- 
pared to  take  the  field.  His  army  consisted  of 
the  Medes,  Persians,  Scythians,  and  Indians  ; 
and  though  reduced  from  the  millions  which 
followed  Xerxes  to  about  three  hundred  thou- 
sand men,  it  was  thereby  rather  delivered  from 
an  useless  encumbrance,  than  deprived  of  any 
real  strength.  Before  marching  from  Thes- 
saly, his  superstition  engaged  him  to  consult 
the  Grecian  oracles,  and  moved  probably  by 
an  erroneous  explanation  of  their  ambiguous 
•esponses,  he  determined  to  try  the  effect  of 
legociation,  before  he  had  recourse  to  arms. 
He  might  treat  either  with  individuals,  or  with 
communities.  By  the  former  method,  the  The- 
bans assured  him,  that  he  might  become  master 
of  Greece,  without  hazarding  a battle.  “You 
have  only,”  said  they,  “ to  send  money  to  the 
leading  men  in  the  several  republics.  In  this 
manner  you  will  divide  each  state  into  fac- 
tions ; engage  them  in  a civil  war  ; and,  when 
exhausted  by  mutual  hostilities,  they  will  rea- 
dily submit  to  your  demands.”  Mardonius, 
instead  of  pursuing  this  judicious  system,  which 

5 Herodot.  I.  viii.  c.  xxiii. 

6 Herodot.  ibid.  c.  lxxv. 

R 


would  probably  have  been  successful,  sent 
Alexander,  king  of  Macedon,  to  treat  with  such 
Athenians  as  had  returned  to  their  city.  This 
illustrious  ambassador,  who  boasted  an  Argive 
extraction,  was  the  tributary  prince  of  a barba- 
rous country ; but  of  a country  destined,  in  a 
future  age,  to  attain  empire  and  renown,  by 
the  arts  of  Philip  and  the  arms  of  his  immortal 
son.  The  first  Alexander  was  peculiarly  well 
qualified  for  executing  the  office  with  which 
Mardonius  had  entrusted  him,  because  his 
family  had  long  been  connected  with  the  re- 
public of  Athens,  by  the  sacred  ties  of  hospi- 
tality. But  his  commission  was  as  unwelcome 
as  his  visit  was  acceptable.  The  Athenians, 
therefore,  delayed  calling  an  assembly  to  hear 
and  answer  his  discourse,  until  the  Spartans 
(who  were  apprised  of  the  intention  of  Mardo- 
nius) should  send  ambassadors  to  assist  at  the 
deliberation.  When  all  parties  were  convened, 
Alexander  declared,  “ That  he  was  sent  on  the 
part  of  Mardonius,  who  had  received  a message 
from  the  great  king,  intimating  his  will  to  for- 
give their  past  injuries,  to  reinstate  them  in 
their  possessions,  to  rebuild  their  houses  and 
temples,  and  to  receive  them  into  the  number 
of  his  friends  and  confederates.”  Mardonius 
then  spoke  for  himself : “ What  madness,  O 
Athenians,  can  impel  you  to  maintain  war 
against  a monarch  whom  you  cannot  expect 
ever  to  conquer,  nor  hope  always  to  resist  ? You 
are*  acquainted  with  the  number  and  prowess 
of  the  troops  under  my  command,  which,  for- 
midable as  they  are,  make  but  a small  part  of 
the  unbounded  resources  of  Xerxes.  Every 
year  he  can  invade  you  with  an  increasing 
superiority  of  strength  ; submit,  therefore,  to  a 
power  which  it  is  impossible  to  oppose  ; profit 
ere  it  be  too  late,  of  the  disposition  of  the  great 
king,  and  accept  the  offer  of  an  alliance  which 
folly  alone,  not  fortitude  and  firmness,  can  en- 
gage you  to  decline.”  Alexander  endeavoured 
to  add  weight  to  these  considerations,  by  ob- 
serving, “ That  his  past  conduct  had  uniformly 
proved  the  sincerity  of  his  attachment  to  the 
Athenians  ; and  that  he  was  firmly  convinced 
of  the  expediency,  and  even  necessity  of  the 
measures  now  in  agitation,  otherwise  he  should 
not  have  undertaken  to  propose  them.  He 
therefore  exhorted  them  to  reflect  on  the  ad- 
vantages which  would  accrue  to  them  from 
being  alone,  of  all  the  Greeks,  admitted  into 
the  alliance  of  Xerxes  ; to  reflect  also  on  the 
dreadful  consequences  which  would  attend 
their  refusal,  since  their  country,  placed  as  a 
prize  between  the  contending  parties,  would 
thereby  be  exposed  to  inevitable  destruction.”^ 
As  soon  as  Alexander  had  ended  his  dis- 
course, the  Lacedaemonian  ambassadors  repre- 
sented to  the  assembly,  “ That  they  had  been 
sent  on  the  part  of  their  republic,  to  thwart  the 
measures  of  the  Barbarians,  with  whom,  in 
order  to  resent  the  quarrel  of  her  Athenian 
allies,  Sparta  had  engaged  in  a bloody  and  de- 
structive war.  Could  the  Athenians  then,  for 
whose  sake  alone  the  war  which  now  extended 
over  all  Greece  was  originally  undertaken, 
abandon  their  frionds  and  confederates,  whose 


7 Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  oxl 


130 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


services  they  had  every  reason  to  approve  ? 
Could  they  associate  with  Barbarians,  whose 
hostilities  they  had  every  reason  to  resent  ? 
Sparta  affectionately  sympathized  with  their 
sufferings,  in  the  loss  of  their  houses  and  their 
harvests ; yet  the  confederates  in  general  had 
endeavoured  to  prevent  or  repair  the  unhappy 
consequences  of  their  loss : they  had  maintain- 
ed their  wives  and  families,  supported  and 
educated  their  helpless  children,  cherished 
and  sustained  the  declining  years  of  their 
parents.  Their  generosity  was  not  yet  ex- 
hausted ; if  the  Athenians  should  be  compelled 
again  to  abandon  their  country,  they  would 
again  find  the  same  hospitable  reception  in 
Peloponnesus  ; and  their  families,  if  it  became 
necessary,  would  be  maintained  at  the  common 
expense,  during  the  continuance  of  the  war. 
Let  them  not,  therefore,  be  deceived  by  the 
specious  words  of  the  tyrant  Alexander,  who, 
at  the  expense  of  truth,  endeavoured  to  pro- 
mote the  interest  of  a tyrant  like  himself.  The 
Athenians  ought  to  remember,  that  neither 
justice,  nor  honour,  nor  fidelity,  can  be  expect- 
ed from  tyrants  and  Barbarians.”1  Having 
thus  spoken,  the  Lacedaemonians,  as  well  as 
Alexander,  withdrew  ; and  the  Athenians,  after 
a short  deliberation,  answered  both  parties  by 
the  voice  of  Aristides,  who,  as  archon,  or  chief 
magistrate,  presided  in  the  assembly : first,  to 
the  Macedonian  they  replied,  “ That  as  they 
were  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  strength 
of  Xerxes,  he  might  have  spared  them  the  in- 
sult of  describing  its  vast  superiority  to  their 
own.  Yet,  in  defence  of  liberty,  there  was  no 
power  too  great  to  oppose.  Return  then,  and 
tell  Mardonius,  that  the  Athenians  will  never 
make  peace  with  Xerxes,  while  the  sun  per- 
forms his  annual  course  in  the  heavens ; but 
that,  trusting  to  the  assistance  of  the  gods  and 
heroes,  whose  temples  and  images  the  tyrant 
has  impiously  destroyed,  we  will  resist  him  to 
the  last  extremity.  To  conclude  : come  not  a 
second  time  to  Athens  with  such  messages,  the 
insolence  of  which  may  make  us  forget  that 
you  are  our  friend,  and  connected  with  us  by 
the  sacred  ties  of  reciprocal  hospitality.”  The 
answer  given  to  the  Lacedaemonian  ambassa- 
sadors  was  delivered  in  a still  higher  strain  of 
patriotism  : “ That  the  Barbarians,  or  even  the 
peasants  of  Laconia,  should  suppose  us  capable 
of  coming  to  an  accommodation  with  the  Per- 
sians, does  not  surprise  us ; but  it  is  indeed 
surprising,  that  you,  citizens  of  Sparta,  should 
entertain  the  same  groundless  fears  ; you,  who 
have  so  often  heard  by  report,  and  who,  on  so 
many  occasions,  have  yourselves  witnessed  the 
disinterested  magnanimity  of  our  republic. 
Know  then,  that  the  richest  possessions  on 
earth,  that  all  the  treasures  of  the  great  king, 
are  not  sufficient  to  seduce  our  unalterable  at- 
tachment to  Greece.  The  laws  of  God  and 
man  equally  forbid  our  ingratitude ; or  if  all 
ties  of  duty  were  dissolved,  our  resentment 
against  the  Persians  would  restrain  us.  We 
must  avenge  our  plundered  altars,  our  pros- 
trate images,  our  desolated  temples.  We  must 
avenge  the  cause  of  our  allies,  and  our  own  ; 


[Chap. 

for  all  the  Greeks  have  the  same  religion,  lan- 
guage, lineage,  and  manners ; and,  while  an 
Athenian  survives,  will  never,  with  his  consent, 
make  peace  with  the  Barbarians.  We  acknow- 
ledge with  gratitude  your  proffered  kindness 
to  our  families ; but  henceforth  we  hope  to 
provide  for  them,  without  giving  the  confede- 
rates any  trouble  on  their  account.  What  we 
request  of  you  is,  that  your  army  march  with 
all  possible  expedition  towards  Boeotia,  that 
our  united  resistance  may  stop  the  progress  of 
the  Barbarian,  who,  as  soon  as  he  is  apprised 
of  our  determined  hostility,  will  not  fail  to  pro- 
ceed southward,  to  invade  Attica  a second 
time.”2 

This  conjecture  was  justified  by  the  event. 
The  Persians  within  a few  weeks  marched  into 
Bceotia,  but  the  Athenians  looked  in  vain  for 
the  expected  arrival  of  their  Spartan  auxilia- 
ries. To  have  witnessed  the  proceedings  just 
described  in  the  Athenian  assembly,  we  should 
have  imagined  that  there  was  a generous  con- 
test of  patriotism  between  the  two  republics ; 
and  that  the  happiness  and  glory  of  Greece, 
not  the  interest  of  their  particular  communities, 
was  the  great  object  of  their  ambition.  But 
the  Greeks  had  often  much  patriotism  in  their 
speeches,  when  there  was  little  in  their  hearts  ; 
and  the  Spartans,  who  had  lately  employed 
such  powerful  arguments  to  engage  Athens  in 
defence  of  the  common  cause,  totally  abandon- 
ed their  principles  whenever  it  suited  their  con- 
venience.3 Instead  of  issuing  forth  in  order  to 
support  their  allies  in  Bceotia,  they  remained 
within  the  isthmus,  and  endeavoured  to  fortify 
that  inlet  into  their  territory  with  such  addi- 
tional walls  and  bulwarks  as  might  render  it 
impenetrable.  The  work  was  now  complete  ; 
and  the  Peloponnesians,  secure,  as  they  ima- 
gined, behind  this  solid  rampart,  equally  disre- 
garded the  safety,  and' despised  the  resentment, 
of  their  northern  allies. 

The  Athenians,  a second  time  forsaken  by 
their  confederates,  were  obliged  again  to  desert 
their  country.  They  had  scarcely  sailed  to 
their  families  in  Salamis,  when  Attica  was  in- 
vaded by  the  Persians.  While  the  fugitives 
continued  in  that  island,  they  received  another 
embassy  from  Mardonius,  offering  them  the 
same  terms  which  they  had  formerly  rejected. 
They  still  persisted  in  rejecting  them  ; in  con- 
sequence of  which,  they  beheld,  without  appa- 
rent uneasiness,  from  the  shores  of  Salamis, 
their  territories4  again  laid  waste  ; their  cities, 
and  villas,  and  temples,  devoured  by  the  flames ; 
and  every  thing  that  had  escaped  the  fury  of 
the  first  invasion,  destroyed  or  consumed  by 
the  second.  After  committing  these  ravages, 
which  as  he  had  already  obtained  complete 
possession  of  the  country,  deserve  to  be  con- 
sidered only  as  the  effect  of  a childish  resent- 
ment, Mardonius  returned  into  Bceotia,  that  his 
troops  might  be  supplied  with  provisions ; and 
that,  should  the  enemy  offer  them  battle,  they 
might  engage  in  a country  better  adapted  than 
Attica  to  the  operations  of  cavalry. 


Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  cxlii. 


2 Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  cxl.  et  seq. 

3 Lysias,  Orat.  Funeb. 

4 Herodot.  1.  Lx.  c.  i.  ctseq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


131 


The  Athenians,  who  had  been  sent  from  Sa- 
lamis  to  remonstrate  with  the  Spartan  council 
against  the  delays  or  desertion  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesians, were  accompanied  by  the  ambassa- 
dors of  Plataea  and  Megara,  who  confirmed 
their  arguments  and  complaints.  With  the 
indignation  of  disappointed  confidence,  they 
upbraided  the  indifference  and  lukewarmness 
of  the  Spartans  in  the  common  cause ; senti- 
ments which  ill  corresponded  with  their  own 
generous  ardour.  They  contrasted  the  base 
treachery  of  Sparta,  formerly  the  honour,  now 
the  disgrace  of  Greece,  with  the  patriotic  mag- 
nanimity of  Athens.  The  latter,  they  observed, 
compelled  by  necessity,  or  urged  by  resentment 
of  the  shameful  dereliction  on  the  part  of  her 
allies,  would  doubtless  accept  the  terms  offered 
by  Mardonius,  and  then  the  Peloponnesians 
must  become  sensible,  when  it  was  too  late, 
that  the  wall  across  the  isthmus  formed  but  a 
partial  and  feeble  defence ; and  however  it 
might  secure  them  from  inroads  on  the  side  of 
the  land,  would  ill  protect  their  coasts  against 
the  descents  of  the  Persian,  reinforced  by  the 
Athenian  fleet.5 

Whether  the  eloquence  of  the  ambassadors, 
or  the  returning  sense  of  public  utility,  over- 
came the  pusillanimous  resolutions  formerly 
embraced  by  the  Spartans,  it  is  certain  that  they 
now  first  determined  to  take  the  field.  Five 
thousand  Spartan  pike-men  were  accompanied 
by  thirty-five  thousand  Helots.  Their  Pelo- 
ponnesian allies  sent  their  respective  contin- 
gents; so  that  the  heavy-armed  men  raised  in 
the  peninsula  exceeded  twenty  thousand,  com- 
manded by  Pausanias,  the  guardian  and  kins- 
man of  Plistarchus,  son  of  Leonidas.  Having 
marched  beyond  the  isthmus,  they  were  joined 
by  Aristides,  at  the  head  of  eight  thousand 
Athenians,  and  by  a superior  number  of  their 
allies  of  Megara,  Thespiae,  Platasa,  Salamis, 
Euboea,  and  JEgina.  The  whole  heavy-armed 
troops  amounted  to  nearly  forty  thousand  ; the 
light-armed  were  the  thirty-five  thousand  He- 
lots, attendants  on  the  Spartans,  and  about  as 
many  more,  one  to  each  soldier,  attended  the 
other  divisions  of  the  army.6 

Mardonius  having  marched  into  Boeolia,  en- 
camped on  the  banks  of  the  iEsopus.  His  army 
of  three  hundred  thousand  men,  while  they 
waited  the  enemy’s  approach,  of  which  they 
were  secretly  informed  by  the  Argives,  were 
employed  in  building  a square  fortification, 
about  five  quarters  of  a mile  in  front ; a work 
of  little  utility,  since  it  could  only  defend  a 
small  portion  of  a camp  which  extended  many 
miles,  from  the  Theban  town  of  Erythraea,  to 
the  territory  of  the  PIata3ans.  The  Greeks 
having  arrived  in  those  parts,  took  post  at  the 
foot  of  mount  Citheron,  directly  opposite  to  the 
enemy. 

The  hostile  armies  remained  eleven  days  in 
their  encampments,  during  which  several  inci- 
dents happened,  which  tend  to  display  the  man- 
ners and  character  of  those  great  bodies  of  men, 
who  were  soon  to  attempt  the  destruction  of  each 


5 Lysias,  Orat.  Funob. 

6 Herodot.  1.  ix.  c.  i.  et  seq.  Diodor.  Sicul.  1.  xi.  et  Pluf. 

in  Aristid. 


other.  Of  the  Grecians  inhabiting  the  countries 
north  of  Attica,  the  Phocians,  as  we  have  al- 
ready had  occasion  to  observe,  were  the  least 
disposed  to  embrace  the  cause  of  Mardonius. 
Yet  as  all  their  neighbours  had  submitted  to 
his  arms,  they  reluctantly  sent  to  his  camp  a 
thousand  soldiers,  well  armed,  and  commanded 
by  Harmocydes,  a citizen  of  great  influence  and 
authority.  They  had  not  continued  many  days 
in  the  Persian  army,  when  an  order  came  from 
Mardonius  (the  reason  was  unknown,)  for  the 
Phocians  to  be  detached  from  the  rest,  and  en- 
camped in  a separate  body  on  the  plain.  They 
had  no  sooner  obeyed  his  command,  than  the 
whole  Persian  cavalry  appeared  in  sight,  and 
soon  formed  themselves  in  hostile  array.  It 
immediately  occurred  to  the  Phocians,  and 
particularly  to  their  prudent  commander,  that 
Mardonius,  suspecting  their  fidelity,  or  yielding 
to  the  solicitations  of  their  inveterate  enemies 
the  Thessalians,  had  determined  their  destruc- 
tion. Harmocydes  therefore,  pointing  to  the 
cavalry,  called  to  his  companions,  “ You  see 
those  men,  who  come  with  an  evident  intention 
to  destroy  us  : but  let  us  die  like  Grecians,  and 
exert  ourselves  with  all  the  fury  of  a desperate 
defence,  rather  than  tamely  submit  to  a dis- 
honourable fate.”  While  he  yet  spoke,  the 
Phocians  seized  their  arms,  arranged  them- 
selves in  order  of  battle,  and  supporting  each 
other  in  redoubled  ranks,  presented  on  every 
side  a firm  circle  of  protended  lances.  Their 
warlike  appearance  struck  terror  into  the  sur- 
rounding cloud  of  Barbarians,  who  advanced 
brandishing,  and  a few  of  the  nearest  throwing, 
their  javelins:  but  farther  they  ventured  not  to 
proceed;  the  determined  countenance  of  the 
Greeks  sufficed  to  repel  them ; they  retired  in 
haste  to  the  Persian  camp.  A herald  was  then 
sent  by  Mardonius,  “ desiring  the  Phocians  to 
take  courage,  nor  to  dread  farther  hostilities  ; 
that  they  had  shown  themselves  to  be  brave 
men,  contrary  to  the  account  which  he  had  re- 
ceived of  them  ; and,  if  they  displayed  their 
valour  in  the  Persian  cause,  they  should  find  it 
impossible  to  conquer  either  Xerxes  or  himself 
in  good  offices.”7 

The  above  relation  tends  to  prove,  that  none 
of  the  Greeks,  not  even  those  who  joined  the 
enemy,  were  deficient  in  courage.  Another  in- 
cident related  by  the  same  historian  proves, 
that  notwithstanding  the  extreme  folly  of  their 
commanders,  the  Persians  were  not  universally 
deficient  in  wisdom.  While  they  were  en- 
camped on  the  iEsopus,  a wealthy  Theban, 
named  Attaginus,  invited  Mardonius,  with  fifty 
of  his  most  distinguished  officers,  to  a magnifi- 
cent entertainment.  The  feast  was  given  at 
Thebes,  and  an  equal  number  of  Boeotians  were 
called  to  it.  Among  these  was  Thersander,  a 
native  of  Orchomenus,  and  a person  of  the 
highest  distinction  in  that  city.  Two  of  the 
guests  were  placed  on  each  couch;  and,  as 
Thersander  himself  related  to  Herodotus,  his 
Persian  companion,  after  supper,  entering  into 
conversation  in  the  Greek  tongue,  testified, 
under  the  seal  of  secrecy,  his  gloomy  apprehen- 
sions concerning  the  event  of  the  present  war, 


Horodot.  1.  ix.  c.  i.  ct  «eq. 


132 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


He  did  not  even  hesitate  to  declare  his  firm 
persuasion,  that  few  Persians  would  survive  an 
engagement.  When  asked  by  the  Theban, 
Why  he  did  not  communicate  his  opinion  to 
his  general?  he  said,  that  men  of  plain  sense 
and  honesty  had  seldom  much  influence  with 
the  great.  It  appeared  from  the  whole  tenor 
of  his  discourse,  that  there  were  many  people 
in  the  Persian  army,  who,  like  himself,  la- 
mented the  mad  ambition  of  Xerxes,  and  the 
fatal  rashness  of  Mardonius;  and  who,  while 
they  respected  their  stations  and  dreaded  their 
power,  despised  their  characters,  and  condemned 
their  conduct.1  This  observation  it  is  proper 
to  make  for  the  honour  of  human  nature.  In 
absolute  governments,  it  is  said  that  men  obey, 
like  a flock  of  sheep,  the  voice  of  a despot ; yet 
it  may  be  said  with  equal  truth,  that  amidst  the 
obedience  extorted  by  fear,  they  often  see  and 
regret  the  folly  of  their  shepherd. 

In  this  situation,  it  was  scarcely  to  be  ex- 
pected that  the  hostile  camps  should  remain 
without  frequent  skirmishes.  These  preludes 
to  the  general  engagement  ended  favourably 
for  the  Grecians.  Three  thousand  soldiers, 
furnished  by  the  rocky  district  of  Megara,  were 
posted  on  the  side  most  exposed  to  the  enemy’s 
cavalry,  by  whose  incursions  they  had  been  so 
much  harassed,  that  they  determined  to  aban- 
don that  difficult  station.  Before  executing 
their  design,  they  sent  a herald  to  the  Grecian 
generals,  intimating  the  resolution  they  had 
taken  from  necessity,  and  at  the  same  time 
hinting  the  injustice  of  detaining  them,  from 
the  time  of  the  first  encampment,  in  a post  of 
peculiar  danger,  which  though  they  had  hither- 
to indeed  maintained  with  singular  constancy 
and  fortitude,  they  now  found  themselves  una- 
ble longer  to  defend.  Pausanias  addressed  him- 
self successively  to  the  whole  army,  to  know 
whether  any  division  was  willing  to  change 
posts  with  the  Megarians.  All  were  silent,  or 
declined  the  proposal  on  frivolous  pretences. 
The  Athenians  alone,  actuated  by  that  love  of 
pre-eminence  which  they  did  not  more  ar- 
dently desire  than  they  justly  deserved,  volun- 
tarily offered  their  services  on  this  trying 
occasion.  They  had  not  long  occupied  the  im- 
portant post,  when  the  enemy’s  cavalry  began 
to  assault  them.  The  assault  they  repelled 
with  vigour,  and  Masistius  the  Persian  gene- 
ral fell  in  the  action.  A terrible  conflict  en- 
sued, according  to  ancient  custom,  around  the 
body  of  the  dead.  The  Athenians  at  length 
gained  possession  of  it ; though  they  began  to 
give  way  before  the  general  attack  of  the  horse, 
yet  upon  being  supported  by  a reinforcement 
from  the  main  body,  they  again  recovered  their 
ground,  and  compelled  the  Persians  to  retire. 
When  the  first  unwelcome  messengers  arrived 
in  the  camp  with  an  account  of  their  own  de- 
feat, and  the  death  of  the  general,  Mardonius 
and  his  attendants  burst  into  tears ; their  la- 
mentations were  soon  communicated  to  the 
troops,  and  diffused  over  the  army,  whose 
plaintive  cries  filled  the  whole  land  of  Bceotia. 
Tbe  Persians  tore  their  hair,  disfigured  their 
«,  and  displayed  every  symptom  of  intole- 


[Chap. 

rable  wo  ; for  they  had  lost  Masistius,  who  in 
comeliness  and  stature  was  the  first  of  their 
generals,  and  in  military  courage  and  address 
only  second  to  Mardonius.2 

The  Grecians  having  thus  bravely  delivered 
themselves  from  the  incursions  of  the  Persian 
cavalry,  were  now  exposed  to  a still  greater  in- 
convenience, the  scarcity  of  fresh  water,  which 
soon  obliged  them  to  decamp.  Their  fate  suc- 
cess afforded  a favourable  moment  forexecuting 
this  dangerous  measure.  They  proceeded  in 
arms  along  the  foot  of  mount  Citheron,  pre- 
pared to  repel  the  attack  of  the  enemy,  by  con- 
verting the  column  of  march  into  an  order 
of  battle.  They  arrived  without  opposition 
at  the  place  appointed.  This  was  a plain 
near  the  village  of  Hysia,  in  the  territory  of 
Platsea,  interspersed  with  many  gentle  emi- 
nences, adorned  with  a grove  and  temple 
sacred  to  the  genius  of  the  place,  and  enriched 
by  the  copious  fountain  Gargaphia ; a neces- 
sary resource  to  the  Greeks,  as  the  enemy,  by 
means  of  their  cavalry  and  archers,  commanded 
both  sides  of  the  iEsopus. 

It  might  be  expected,  that  men  prepared  to 
defend  every  thing  most  dear  to  them,  should 
have  preserved  in  the  field  perfect  agreement 
and  unanimity ; especially  as  the  Greeks,  on 
some  occasions  at  least,  seemed  sensible  that 
mutual  union  was  necessary  for  the  general 
safety.  When  the  allies  on  both  sides  the 
isthmus  had  assembled  in  Attica,  they  vowed 
with  common  consent  to  the  gods,  and  bound 
themselves  by  the  most  tremendous  oaths,  to 
maintain  with  steadfast  adherence  an  unshaken 
fidelity  to  Greece,  to  prefer  liberty  to  life,  to 
obey  the  command  of  their  leaders,  and  to  bury 
their  companions  slain  in  battle.  Should  for- 
tune render  them  victorious  (which  to  their 
present  ardour  seemed  scarcely  a matter  of 
doubt,)  they  swore  never  to  demolish  any  city 
whose  inhabitants  had  concurred  with  the  general 
voice  on  this  important  occasion,  and  never  to 
rebuild  the  temples  defaced  by  the  Barbarians, 
but  to  leave  them  to  the  most  distant  posterity, 
as  a monument  of  sacrilegious  rage,  and 
an  incitement  to  honourable  revenge.  They 
swore  also  to  institute  an  annual  festival  de- 
nominated the  Common  Liberty,3  and  to  con- 
secrate public  games  and  sacrifices  to  the 
goddess,  the  great  author  of  their  union,  and 
the  venerable  object  of  their  worship.  But 
these  public-spirited  sentiments  continued  not 
long  to  actuate  them.  We  have  already  had 
occasion  to  remark  several  symptoms  of  ap- 
proaching animosity.  Their  dissensions  soon 
broke  out  into  an  open  rupture,  and  prevailed, 
even  on  the  eve  of  a battle,  not  only  between 
rival  republics,  but  in  the  bosom  of  almost  every 
community. 

The  first  contest  arose  between  the  Athe- 
nians and  Tegeans,  about  the  command  of  the 
left  wing.  Both  parties  yielded  the  right,  as 
the  place  of  greatest  honour  to  the  Spartans. 
But  the  citizens  of  Tegea,  in  number  three 
thousand,  had  been  long  deemed  the  best  sol- 
diers in  Arcadia;  and  in  all  the  conjunct  ex- 


1 Herodot.  1.  ix.  c.  xv. 


2 Herodot.  c.  ccxxiv. 

3 Ibid.  1.  ix.  c.  viii.  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


133 


X 


peditions  of  the  Peloponnesians,  they  had 
always  obtained,  unrivalled,  the  second  hon- 
ours of  the  field.  These  they  professed  them- 
selves unwilling  to  relinquish,  alleging  the 
heroic  exploits  of  their  ancient  kings ; and 
asserting,  “that  the  actions  of  the  Athenians, 
performed  either  during  their  royal  or  demo- 
cratical  government,  could  not  bear  a compari- 
son with  their  own:  they  appealed  on  this 
subject  to  the  Lacedaemonians,  in  conjunction 
with  whom  they  had  often  fought  and  con- 
quered, and  whose  decision  in  their  favour 
they  rather  claimed  than  requested.”  This 
bold  pretension  the  Athenians  easily  repelled, 
by  the  lustre  of  their  usual  eloquence.  “ We 
know,”  said  they,  “that  the  Greeks  are  here 
assembled,  not  to  dispute  about  precedency, 
but  to  fight  the  Barbarian.  Yet,  as  the  Tegeans 
have  mentioned  their  ancestors,  it  becomes  us 
to  maintain  the  immortal  renown  of  our  own. 
Need  we  mention  their  ancient  victories  over 
the  impious  Thebans ; their  chastisement  of  the 
insolent  Eurystheus ; their  generous  protection 
of  the  unfortunate  sons  of  Hercules?  When 
Greece  was  invaded  by  the  warlike  Amazons, 
and  afterwards  by  the  fiercer  savages  of  Scythia 
and  Thrace,  the  Athenians  resisted  and  over- 
came the  common  enemy.  What  people  fought 
with  more  bravery  than  they  in  the  war  of 
Troy?  But  perhaps  we,  who  now  address  you, 
have  degenerated  from  the  glory  of  our  ances- 
tors. Let  the  battle  of  Marathon  efface  the 
foul  suspicion.  There,  unaided  and  alone,  we 
defended  the  general  safety,  maintained  the 
glory  of  Greece,  and  raised,  by  the  prowess  of 
our  single  republic,  a trophy  over  forty  nations. 
This  exploit,  had  we  no  other  to  allege,  en- 
titles us  to  the  rank  claimed  by  the  Tegeans, 
and  to  far  higher  honours.  But  the  present  is 
not  a time  for  such  contests  ; place  us  there- 
fore, O Spartans ! in  whatever  station  you 
think  fit;  there,  we  will  behave  like  brave 
min.”  Their  words  were  scarcely  ended,  when 
the  whole  army  of  the  Lacedaemonians  cried 
out  with  one  consent,  “ That  the  Athenians 
were  far  more  worthy  than  the  Tegeans,  or  any 
nation  of  Arcadia,  to  stand  at  the  head  of  the 
left  wing ;”  accordingly  they  assumed  that  im- 
portant post.4 

Mean  time  the  Barbarian  army  approached. 
The  Medes  and  Persians  encamped  on  the 
plain,  fronting  the  Spartans:  the  Grecian  auxi- 
liaries were  placed  in  direct  opposition  to  the 
Athenians.  It  is  easy  to  perceive,  even  at  this 
distance  of  time,  the  reason  of  such  an  arrange- 
ment. The  Persians  avoided  to  encounter  the 
Athenian  bravery,  which  they  had  already 
fatally  experienced  in  the  field  of  Marathon ; 
and  as  the  Thebans  were  the  most  powerful 
and  the  warmest  of  their  foreign  allies,  as  well 
as  the  inveterate  enemies  of  Athens,  it  was 
thought  proper  to  oppose  them  to  that  side  on 
which  the  Athenians  were  posted.  Ambiguous 
oracles,  attended  by  unfavourable  omens  and 
prophecies,  had  hitherto  deterred  Mardonius 
from  venturing  a general  engagement;  and  he 
was  at  length  determined  to  this  measure,  not 
from  any  auspicious  change  in  the  admoni- 


tions of  heaven,5  but  from  the  apparent  timi- 
dity occasioned  by  the  real  dissensions  of  the 
Greeks. 

The  same  reasons  which  made  Mardonius 
desire  to  preserve,  made  Pausanias  wish  to 
alter,  the  relative  disposition  of  their  respective 
camps.  Excepting  in  the  glorious  contest  at 
Thermopylae,  in  which  they  devoted  themselves 
to  death  for  the  safety  of  their  country,  the 
Spartans  had  never  contended  with  the  Medes ; 
but  they  had  often  fought  and  conquered  the 
Boeotians.  Pausanias  therefore  desired  (for, 
though  dignified  with  the  title  of  general,  he 
could  not  command)  the  Athenians  to  change 
places  with  his  countrymen.  This  request  was 
cheerfully  complied  with;  but  other  circum- 
stances sowed  dissension  in  the  Athenian 
camp.6  The  quiet  likewise  of  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians was  disturbed  by  the  quarrels  between 
Pausanias  and  Anompharetus,  the  Spartan 
next  in  command ; and  conspiring  with  these 
internal  animosities,  the  Persian  horse  beat  up 
their  quarters,  intercepted  their  convoys,  and, 
by  an  unexpected  incursion,  destroyed  their 
watering-place.  It  thus  became  necessary  again 
to  decamp.  The  obscurity  of  midnight  was 
chosen  as  the  most  convenient  time  for  effect- 
ing this  purpose ; and  the  destined  place  of  re- 
treat was  a narrow  slip  of  ground  lying  towards 
the  source  of  the  iEsopus,  and  confined  between 
that  river  and  mount  Citheron.  This  post  was 
at  least  preferred  by  the  majority;  for  the 
Greeks  were  by  no  means  unanimous : so  that 
when  the  march  was  ordered,  many  of  the 
allies  abandoned  their  leaders;  others  took 
refuge  in  the  neighbouring  temples,  to  elude 
the  pursuit  of  the  horse;  while  Anompharetus 
the  Spartan  declared,  “ That  neither  he,  nor 
the  division  under  his  command,  should  ever 
fly  from  the  enemy :”  and  in  consequence  of  its 
dispersion  in  so  many  different  directions,  the 
Grecian  army  presented  next  morning  the  ap- 
pearance, not  of  a regular  march,  but  of  a 
flight  or  rout. 

Mardonius  was  apprised  that  the  Greeks  had 
changed  their  order  of  battle.  He  was  now 
informed,  that  they  had  abandoned  their  camp. 
Not  doubting  that  fear  had  precipitated  their 
retreat,  he  ordered  his  soldiers  to  pursue  the 
fugitives,  and  to  complete  the  victory.  The 
Lacedsemonians  and  Athenians  were  still  within 
his  reach ; the  former  near  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tain, the  latter  in  the  middle  of  the  plain.  Hav- 
ing sent  his  Grecian  auxiliaries,  amounting  to 
fifty  thousand,  against  the  Athenians,  he  ad- 
vanced with  the  bravest  of  the  Persian  troops 
against  that  portion  of  the  enemy  which  had 
shown  an  anxious  solicitude  to  avoid  his  arms. 
Never  did  the  contrast  appear  greater,  than  in 
the  opposite  appearance  and  behaviour  of  the 
hostile  armies  on  this  occasion.  The  Barbari- 
ans, ill  armed,  and  totally  ignorant  of  discipline, 


5 The  prophets  consulted  were  Greeks,  who  pethaps 
secretly  served  the  cause  of  their  country.  Mardonius  re- 
solved to  engage  the  enemy,  as  we  learn  from  Herodotus, 
without  regarding  their  predictions.  Alexander  of  Macedon 
came  in  the  night  to  the  Grecian  camp,  to  give  intimation 
of  that  resolution : vet  Mardonius  seems  to  have  been  im 
mediately  determined  to  attack,  by  the  circumstances  men 
tinned  in  the  text. 

G Plutarch  in  Aristid. 


4 Horodot.  1.  ix.  c.  xxvi.  ct  seq.  Plut.  in  Aristid. 


134 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


advanced  without  order,  and  with  a loud  in- 
sulting noise.  The  Lacedaemonians,  carefully 
covered  with  their  shields,  observed  in  silence 
the  result  of  their  sacrifices.  While  the  heavenly 
admonitions  were  unfavourable,  they  patiently 
received  the  darts  and  javelins  which  the  ene- 
my threw  upon  them.  But  as  soon  as  Pausa- 
nias,  casting  his  eyes  towards  a neighbouring 
temple  of  June,  >.nd  devoutly  entreating  the 
protection  of  the  goddess,  had  obtained,  in  the 
changing  aspect  of  the  victims,  a propitious 
answer  to  his  prayer,  they  proceeded  with  in- 
trepidity to  close  with  their  opponents.1  The 
Persians,  reinforced  with  the  Sacae,  a Scythian 
tribe,  sustained  the  attack  with  great  bravery. 
Immense  numbers  were  slain ; but  new  num- 
bers succeeded,  crowding  together  in  tumultu- 
ous disorder,  and  making  a hideous  outcry,  as 
if  they  had  intended  to  tear  in  pieces  and  to 
devour  the  enemy.  Mardonius,  mounted  on  a 
white  steed  of  uncommon  strength  and  swift- 
ness, was  distinguished  in  every  part  of  the 
battle  by  the  splendour  of  his  appearance,  but 
still  more  by  deeds  of  signal  valour.  He  was 
attended  by  a thousand  horsemen,  consisting 
of  the  flower  of  the  Persian  nobility,  all  alike 
ambitious  to  imitate  the  example,  and  to  emu- 
late the  fame,  of  their  leader.  Had  their  skill 
been  equal  to  their  courage,  or  had  they  previ- 
ously bestowed  as  much  pains  in  disciplining 
their  troops,  as  in  improving  their  own  agility 
and  address,  either  the  Greeks  must  have  been 
conquered,  or  the  battle  must  have  remained 
doubtful.  But  the  Barbarians  acted  without 
union  or  concert ; and  as  they  fought  singly, 
were  successively  defeated.  It  is  the  nature, 
and  the  greatest  disadvantage  of  cavalry,  not 
to  increase  in  force  in  proportion  to  the  redu- 
plication of  their  ranks.  The  Grecian  phalanx, 
on  the  other  hand,  received  an  accession  of 
strength  from  every  addition  to  its  depth ; the 
ranks  behind  supported  those  before ; no  power 
was  misspent  or  unexerted ; and  the  effect  might 
be  continually  augmented,  till  it  became  irre- 
sistible. Availing  themselves  of  this  circum- 
stance, the  Lacedaemonians  thickened  their 
ranks,  extended  their  spears,  sustained  the 
shock,  and  penetrated  the  depth,  of  the  brave 
Persian  squadron.  Mardonius  fell  by  the  for- 
tunate arm  of  the  Spartan  Aieimnestus.2  The 
death  of  the  general  was  immediately  followed 
by  the  defeat  of  the  Persians,  and  the  defeat 
of  the  Persians  by  the  flight  of  the  Barbarian 
army.  Artabazus,  the  Parthian  chief,  had  from 
the  beginning  condemned  the  rash  measures 
of  Mardonius.  He  commanded  forty  thousand 
men,  who  were  prepared  on  every  occasion  to 
follow  the  example  of  their  leader.  As  soon  as 
he  perceived  the  confusion  of  the  Persians,  he 
made  the  signal  for  his  troops  to  quit  the  field. 
He  conducted  them  through  the  territory  of 
the  Phocians,  and  arriving  by  hasty  marches  at 
the  Hellespont,  before  the  news  of  the  defeat 


1 Herodot.  1.  ix.  c.  lxii.  et  seq. 

2 Composed  of  two  Greek  words,  which  maybe  translated 
“ of  immortal  memory an  instance,  among  many,  that  the 
Greeks  frequently  gave  names  characteristic  of  persons ; a 
custom  which  likewise  prevailed  much  among  the  Jews. 
See  Michaelis’s  Translation  and  Annotations  on  Genesis, 
p.  37.  et  passim. 


[Chap. 

and  death  of  Mardonius,  returned  in  safety  to 
the  Asiatic  coast,  with  the  forces  entrusted  to 
his  care.3 

The  remainder  of  the  discomfited  Barbarians 
sought  refuge  in  their  camp,  which,  as  we  have 
already  mentioned,  had  been  strengthened  by 
a considerable  fortification.  The  Spartans  pur- 
sued them  with  great  ardour,  but  were  unable 
to  force  their  encampment.  The  Tegeans  and 
other  troops  seconded  the  attack,  but  no  im- 
pression could  be  made  on  the  wall,  till  the 
arrival  of  the  Athenians.  These  generous  de- 
fenders of  the  cause  of  liberty  had  repulsed  the 
Grecian  auxiliaries,  who  impiously  assisted  the 
enemies  of  their  country.  The  behaviour  of 
the  greater  part  of  the  traitors  furnished  the 
occasion  of  an  easy  victory ; for,  unable  to  meet 
the  just  reproaches  and  indignant  looks  of  their 
countrymen,  they  soon  betook  themselves  to 
flight,  which,  in  the  present  case,  seemed  more 
honourable  than  resistance.  The  Thebans 
alone  opposed  with  great  perseverance  the 
Athenian  valour;  they  did  not  desist  from 
hostility,  fill  several  hundreds  were  slain;  and 
when  compelled  to  quit  the  field,  they  fled  to- 
wards Bceotia,  and  shut  themselves  up  within 
the  strong  walls  of  their  city.  Instead  of  pur- 
suing these  fugitives,  though  their  domestic  and 
inveterate  foes,  the  Athenians,  with  a laudable 
moderation  and  prudence,  probably  inspired  by 
Aristides,  then  one  of  their  generals,  directed 
their  march  towards  the  Lacedaemonian  forces, 
which  had  already  engaged  and  put  to  flight 
the  main  strength  of  the  enemy.  The  Athe- 
nians, however,  came  in  time  to  complete  the 
glory  of  that  memorable  day.  They  attacked 
with  redoubled  vigour  the  fortification,  which 
had  been  in  vain  assailed  by  their  allies;  and 
having  effected  a breach  in  the  wall,  entered 
the  Persian  camp.  They  were  followed  by  the 
brave  soldiers  of  Tegea,  and  afterwards  by  the 
Spartans.  The  Barbarians  were  seized  with 
consternation  at  seeing  so  many  myriads  con- 
fined within  a narrow  space.  The  means  of 
their  expected  safety  became  the  principal 
cause  of  their  destruction.  Fear  hindered  them 
to  fight;  the  wall  hindered  them  to  fly;  the 
great  number  of  the  enemy  made  it  dangerous 
for  the  victors  to  give  quarter ; resentment  of 
past  injuries  prompted  them  to  revenge ; of 
near  two  hundred  thousand  Barbarians,  not 
two  thousand  escaped  the  fury  of  the  Grecian 
spear.4 

The  event  of  this  bloody  engagement  not 
only  delivered  the  Greeks  from  the  danger  of 
servitude,  but  gave  them  possession  of  greater 
wealth  than  they  could  ever  have  expected  to 
possess.  In  his  precipitate  retreat  from  Greece, 
Xerxes  left  behind  him  all  his  riches  and  mag- 
nificence. His  most  valuable  effects  were  be- 
stowed on  Mardonius,  the  flatterer  of  his  incli- 
nations, and  the  unfortunate  minister  of  his 
revenge.  The  rest  was  divided  among  his  infe- 
rior favourites;  and  independent  of  the  bounty 
of  the  prince,  the  tents  of  the  Persian  nobles 
furnished  a wide  profusion  of  elegance  and 
splendour.  Couches  magnificently  embroider- 
ed ; tables  of  gold  and  silver ; bowls  and  goblets 


4 Ibid.  1.  ix.  cap.  c. 


3 Ilcrodot.  1.  ix.  c.  Ixv. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


135 


X.] 

of  gold ; stalls  and  mangers  of  brass,  curiously 
wrought  and  ornamented;  chains,  bracelets, 
scimetars,  some  of  solid  gold,  others  adorned 
with  precious  stones ; and,  to  crown  all,  many 
chests  of  Persian  money,  which  began  at  that 
time,  and  continued  long  afterwards,  to  be 
current  in  Greece.  Among  the  common  mass 
of  spoil,  Herodotus  reckons  a great  many  Per- 
sian women,  besides  innumerable  horses  and 
camels.  The  whole  being  collected  into  one 
place,  the  tenth  was  consecrated  to  the  gods. 
A tenth  of  the  remainder  was  bestowed  on  the 
general.  Peculiar  presents  were  offered  to  the 
temples  of  Olympian  Jove,  Isthmian  Neptune, 
and  Delphian  Apollo,  the  favourite  divinities 
of  the  whole  Grecian  name ; nor  did  the  Athe- 
nians forget  to  show  particular  gratitude  to 
their  adored  Minerva.  Prizes  were  afterwards 
distributed  among  the  bravest  of  the  surviving 
warriors ; for  though  the  victory  had  been  ob- 
tained with  little  blood,  yet  several  hundreds 
had  fallen,  especially  of  the  most  generous  and 
daring ; among  whom,  were  ninety-one  Spar- 
tans, fifty-two  Athenians  and  sixteen  men  of 
Tegea.  Callicrattides,  a Spartan,  the  bravest 
and  most  beautiful  of  the  Greeks,  was  slain  by 
an  arrow,  before  Pausanias,  who  had  not  yet 
finished  the  sacrifice,  had  given  the  signal  of 
engagement.  As  he  fell,  he  said  to  those  around 
him,  that  he  was  contented  to  die  for  Greece, 
but  regretted  dying  ingloriously,  having  per- 
formed nothing  worthy  of  himself  or  the  com- 
mon cause.  But  in  the  battle  itself  none  of 
the  warriors  behaved  with  such  distinguished 
bravery  as  Aristodemus,  who  alone  of  three 
hundred  Spartans  survived  the  action  at  Ther- 
mopylae. This  circumstance  had  rendered  him 
contemptible  in  the  eyes  of  his  countrymen. 
He  was  continually  upbraided  with  the  base 
desertion  of  his  companions.  The  most  heroic 
deeds  could  not  restore  him  to  the  good  opinion 
of  the  public;  and  it  was  asserted  by  the  Spar- 
tans, that  even  on  the  present  occasion,  as  he 
had  determined  to  seek  a voluntary  death  in 
order  to  efface  the  stain  of  his  former  infamy, 
he  was  not  entitled  to  any  of  those  honours 
which  are  deservedly  bestowed  on  the  genuine 
efforts  of  spontaneous  valour.5 

The  Greeks  buried  their  dead  with  every  cir- 
cumstance of  funeral  pomp,  erected  in  the  field 
of  battle  conspicuous  trophies  of  their  renown, 
and  appropriated  about  twenty  thousand 
pounds  for  dedicating  temples  and  statues  to 
the  tutelary  deities  of  Platsea,  the  illustrious 
scene  of  victory.  A few  days  were  spent  in 
these  transactions ; after  which  it  was  deter- 
mined, by  universal  consent,  to  march  into 
Bceotia,  in  order  to  chastise  the  perfidy  of  the 
Thebans.  On  the  eleventh  day  after  the 
battle  they  arrived  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Thebes,  ravaged  the  territory,  and  made  ap- 
proaches to  the  walls.  The  citizens,  who  were 
not  all  equally  guilty  or  equally  obnoxious, 
escaped  general  destruction  by  surrendering 
the  leaders  of  the  faction  which  abetted  the  in- 
terest of  the  Medes.  The  traitors  were  carried 
to  Corinth,  condemned  without  trial,  and  sacri- 
ficed to  the  manes  of  their  countrymen  who 


had  fallen  at  Marathon,  Salamis,  and  Platsea, 
in  defence  of  political  liberty  and  national  in- 
dependence.6 

The  battle  of  Platsea  was  fought  the  twenty- 
second  of  September ; and  on  the  same  day 
another  battle,  not  less  glorious  or  less  decisive, 
was  fought  between  the  same  nations  at  the 
promontory  of  Mycale  in  Ionia,  opposite  to  the 
isle  of  Samos.  The  shattered  remnant  of  the 
Persian  fleet,  which  had  escaped  destruction  on 
the  fatal  twentieth  of  October  of  the  preceding 
year,  took  refuge  in  the  friendly  ports  of  Asia 
Minor.  The  victorious  armament  had  suffered 
too  much  in  repeated  shocks  with  a superior 
force,  to  engage  at  that  late  season  in  the  pur- 
suit of  an  enemy,  whose  strength,  amounting 
to  above  four  hundred  vessels,  was  still  nearly 
the  double  of  their  own.  The  little  squadron 
of  Themistocles,  averse  to  inactivity,  found 
occupation,  as  we  already  had  occasion  to  no- 
tice, in  laying  the  islands  of  the  iEgean  under 
contribution.  The  great  body  of  the  fleet  ren- 
dezvoused in  the  harbours  of  iEgina.  There 
the  Grecians  continued  during  the  winter,  and 
before  the  season  for  action  approached,  the 
command  ,vas  bestowed  on  Xantippus  the 
Athenian,  and  on  Leoty chides  the  Spartan  king. 
To  these  commanders,  whose  abilities  and  in- 
fluence in  their  respective  republics  we  for- 
merly had  an  opportunity  to  mention,  there 
arrived  early  in  the  spring  a secret  deputation 
from  several  cities  of  Ionia,  intreating  that  the 
valour  of  the  European  Greeks,  which  had 
been  so  successfully  employed  in  their  own  de- 
fence, might  be  still  further  exerted  in  deliver- 
ing from  bondage  their  brethren  in  Asia.  In 
consequence  of  this  invitation  the  fleet  sailed 
eastward,  and  had  scarcely  reached  the  coast 
of  Delos,  when  a second  embassy  came  from 
the  Samians,  proposing  the  same  measures  as 
the  first,  and  further  adding,  that  the  Persian 
fleet,  now  lying  in  the  harbour  of  Samos, 
might  be  attacked  and  defeated  without  danger 
or  difficulty.  The  Grecians  seized  with  eager- 
ness the  favourable  opportunity  of  terminating 
the  war ; but  before  they  arrived  at  Samos,  the 
enemy  suspecting  their  motions,  and  unwilling 
to  hazard  another  engagement  at  sea,  had  re- 
tired to  the  Ionic  coast,  and  according  to  the 
custom  of  that  age,  not  only  drawn  their  ships 
on  shore,  but  surrounded  them  with  a ditch 
and  palisade,  and  even  a stone  wall  of  consi- 
derable strength.  The  vessels  thus  secured, 
the  sailors  amounting  to  forty  thousand,  com- 
manded by  Artayndes,  formed  a camp  along  the 
shore.  They  were  reinforced  by  the  Persian 
army  under  Tigranes,  computed  at  sixty  thou- 
sand. It  appears  not  whether  this  powerful  body 
of  men  made  any  attempt  to  disturb  the  landing 
of  the  Greeks,  who  at  the  highest  computation 
could  not  amount  to  a fourth  part  of  their  num- 
ber. It  soems  most  probable  that  they  disdain- 
ed this  measure,  and  though  they  acknow- 
ledged their  inferiority  at  sea,  determined  to 
hazard  at  land  a general  engagement,  in  which 
the  isles  and  Hellespont,  as  well  as  the  flourish- 
ing cities  of  the  Asiatic  coast  should  form  the 
important  prize  of  victory. 


5 Herodot.  i.  ix.  c.  Ixx. 


6 Herodot.  1.  ix.  c.  lxxxv. 


136 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


The  Greeks  did  not  decline  the  battle.  Xan- 
tippus  is  said  to  have  made  use  of  a similar 
contrivance  with  that  employed  by  Themisto- 
cles  at  Artemisium,  for  depriving  the  enemy  of 
their  Grecian  auxiliaries.1  A more  probable 
stratagem  is  ascribed  to  Leotychides,  who,  in 
order  to  encourage  his  troops,  is  said  to  have 
industriously  spread  a report  that  their  coun- 
trymen had  obtained  a signal  victory  at  Platsea. 
This  report,  by  whatever  means2  it  was  raised 
and  circulated,  had  doubtless  a considerable 
effect  in  deciding  the  fortune  of  the  day.  Other 
circumstances,  not  less  powerful,  were,  the 
general  revolt  of  the  Asiatic  Greeks,  and  the 
silent  contest  of  honour  between  the  Spartans 
and  Athenians.  Among  the  Barbarian  troops 
the  Persians  behaved  with  uncommon  bravery  ; 
and  on  the  side  of  the  Grecians,  the  battle  of 
Mycale  was  more  bloody  than  any  other  fought 
in  the  course  of  the  war.  It  deserves  attention, 
that,  in  all  these  memorable  actions,  the  Greeks 
had  no  resource  but  in  victory.  But  the  Bar- 
barians had  provided  probable  means  of  safety, 
even  in  case  of  a defeat.  On  the  present  occa- 
sion they  had  endeavoured  not  only  to  secure  a 
retreat  within  a strongly  fortified  camp,  but  to 
acquire  an  undisturbed  passage  through  the 


[Chap. 

narrow  defiles  of  Mycale.  Yet  all  these  pre- 
cautions were  ineffectual  against  the  valour 
and  fortune  of  the  Greeks.  The  Milesians, 
posted  by  the  enemy  to  guard  the  passes  of 
the  mountain,  prevented,  instead  of  promoting, 
their  escape.'  The  Spartans  pursued  them 
with  great  slaughter  in  that  direction ; while 
the  Athenians,  assisted  by  the  allies  of  Corinth, 
Sicyon,  and  Traezene,  advanced  with  undaunt- 
ed bravery  to  attack  their  camp.  The  Asiatic 
Greeks,  who  at  all  times  acknowledged  the 
warlike  pre-eminence  of  their  European  bre- 
thren, emulated,  in  the  present  engagement 
alone,  in  which  they  fought  for  every  thing 
dear  to  them,  the  admired  valour  of  their  an- 
cestors. Above  forty  thousand  Persians  perish- 
ed in  the  field ; many  fell  in  the  pursuit,  or 
in  defending  their  entrenchments;  the  re- 
mainder fled  in  disorder,  nor  thought  them- 
selves secure  till  they  had  reached  the  walls  of 
Sardis.  Their  ships,  their  camp,  the  freedom 
of  Ionia,  and  the  undisturbed  possession  of 
the  Asiatic  coast,  formed  the  inestimable  prize 
of  the  victors;  and  thus  the  expedition  of 
Xerxes,  undertaken  with  a view  to  enslave 
Europe,  restored  liberty  to  the  fairest  portion 
of  Asia.3 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Military  Glory  of  Greece — Enemies  to  whom  that  Country  was  exposed — Foundation  and  Growth 
of  Carthage — The  flourishing  Condition  of  Magna  Gracia— Excites  the  Jealousy  of  the  Car- 
thaginians— Who  enter  into  a League  with  Xerxes — The  object  of  this  Alliance — Causes  of 
the  singular  Prosperity  of  Magna  Grcecia — History  of  Pythagoras , and  of  his  Philosophy — 
The  Carthaginians  invade  Sicily — Their  Disasters — Glory  of  Gelon — His  Treaty  with  the 
Carthaginians — Causes  of  the  Decay  of  Magna  Gracia. 


rpHE  beginning  of  the  fifth  century  before 
Christ  forms  the  most  glorious  era  in  the 
history  of  Greece.  While  the  republics  of 
. Athens  and  Sparta  humbled  the 

GlymP*  pride  of  Asia,  the  flourishing  set- 
A Xp  4f>n  tlements  on  the  Hellespont  and 
A.  L.  4»U.  ^ jja(jriatic  overawed  the  fierce 
Barbarians  of  Europe  ;4  and  the  southern 
colony  of  Cyrene  restrained,  within  their  native 
limits,  the  savage  ferocity  of  the  Libyans.5 
The  north,  south,  and  east  thus  acknowledging 
the  ascendant  of  the  Grecian  valour  and 
genius,  Rome  still  contended  in  the  west,  with 
the  obstinacy  of  the  Volsci,6  for  the  rude  vil- 
lages of  Latium : yet  on  this  side,  from  which 
the  stream  of  conquest  was  destined,  in  a fu- 
ture age,  to  flow  over  the  world,  the  Greeks 


1 The  story  is  improbable,  because  the  Asiatic  Greeks 
had  already  declared  their  intention  to  revolt.  It  was  not 
the  interest  of  Xantippus,  therefore,  to  make  the  Persians 
suspect  their  fidelity,  since  treacherous  friends  are  always 
more  dangerous  than  open  enemies. 

2 Herodotus,  (1.  ix.  c.  c.)  and  Diodorus  (1.  xi.  c.  xxxv.) 
differ  in  their  accounts. 

3 Herodot.  1.  ix.  c.  xe.—c.  cxiv.  Diodorus  Siculus,  1.  xi. 

xxxiv. — c.  xxxviii. 

4 Herodot.  1.  vi.  Thucydid.  1.  i. 

5 Strabo,  1.  xvii.  6 Diodor.  1.  xi. 


had  already  most  danger  to  apprehend,  and 
most  laurels  to  acquire ; not,  however,  from 
Rome,  but  from  the  implacable7  enemy  of  the 
Roman  name. 

The  foundation  and  growth  of  Carthage, 
which  have  been  so  successfully  adorned  by 
poetical  fiction,  are  very  imperfectly  explained 
in  history.  It  is  known,  that  at  least  eight  hun- 
dred and  ninety  years8  before  the  Christian 
era,  a Phoenician  colony  settled  on  that  fertile 
projecture  of  the  African  coast,  which  boldly 
advances  into  the  Mediterranean,  to  meet,  as  it 
were,  and  to  defy  the  shores  of  Sicily  and  Italy, 
planted  in  the  following  century  by  Greeks, 


7 With  what  energy  does  Virgil  express  the  eternal  en- 
mity between  Rome  and  Carthage  ? 

Littora  littoribus  contraria,  fluctibus  undas, 

Imprecor,  arma  armis ; pugnent  ipsique  nepotes. 

iEneid.  1.  iv. 

8 B.  C.801.  Petav.  de  Doctr.  Tcmporum.  Yet,  as  there 
is  a gap  in  the  Carthaginian  history  of  several  centuries, 
every  man  of  taste  will  be  desirous  of  extending  the  duration 
of  this  dark  and  unknown  period,  to  have  the  pleasure  of 
believing  that  ./Eneas  and  Dido  were  contemporaries : an 
opinion  more  probable  than  that  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  who 
would  bring  down  the  time  of  ./Eneas  and  the  era  of  the 
Trojan  war  to  the  age  of  Dido  and  the  foundation  of  Car 
thage. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


137 


XI.] 

with  whom  the  republic  of  Carthage,  long  be- 
fore the  age  of  her  great  Hannibal,  waged  many 
cruel  and  bloody  wars.  F or  three  centuries  after 
their  establishment,  the  Carthaginians  seem  to 
have  silently  but  successfully  availed  them- 
selves of  the  natural  fertility  of  their  soil,  the 
conveniency  of  their  harbours,  the  skill  and 
dexterity  of  their  artisans,  the  adventurous 
spirit  of  their  mariners ; above  all,  of  the  pro- 
found wisdom  of  their  government,  which  had 
been  established  on  such  admirable  principles, 
that,  from  the  foundation  of  their  city  till  the 
age  of  the  philosopher  Aristotle,9  no  tyrant  had 
oppressed  the  freedom,  no  sedition  had  dis- 
turbed the  tranquillity  of  Carthage.10 

From  this  peaceful  and  happy  obscurity,  the 
Carthaginians  first  emerged  into  notice  in  con- 
sequence of  their  opposition  to  the  naval  en- 
terprises of  the  Asiatic  Greeks,  who,  about  the 
middle  of  the  sixth  century  before  Christ,  fly- 
ing the  oppressive  domination  of  Persia,  threw 
themselves  on  the  western  shores  and  islands 
of  the  Mediterranean.  As  a maritime  and  en- 
terprising nation  the  Greeks  were  naturally 
the  rivals  of  the  Carthaginians  ; and  the  Pho- 
cseans,  who  had  left  the  coast  of  Ionia  to  avoid 
the  cruel  tyranny  of  the  satrap  Harpagus,  had 
landed  at,  or  perhaps  founded,  Aleria  in  the 
isle  of  Corsica,  before  they  finally  settled  at 
Velia11  in  Italy,  and  Marseilles  in  Gaul.12  The 
Carthaginians,  who  had  already  formed  esta- 
blishments in  Corsica,  regarded  the  whole 
island  as  a dependency  of  their  republic,  and 
set  themselves  to  oppose  with  vigour  the  Gre- 
cian invaders.  From  a similar  motive  the  Tus- 
cans embraced  the  same  design  ; and  the  most 
ancient  naval  engagement,  distinctly  recorded 
in  history,  was  fought  in  the  Sardinian  sea, 
between  the  Phocseans  with  sixty  sail  on  the 
one  side,  against  the  Tuscans  and  Carthagi- 
nians with  double  that  number  on  the  other.13 
The  Greeks  had  the  whole  glory  of  the  battle ; 
they  destroyed  forty  of  the  enemy’s  ships,  and 
compelled  the  rest  to  fly.  But  the  smallness 
of  their  numbers,  greatly  diminished  by  their 
desperate  efforts  in  defence  of  the  honour  of 
their  nation  against  a superior  force,  obliged 
them  to  abandon  the  protect  of  settling  in 
Corsica. 

Though  the  issue  of  this  memorable  sea- 
fight  tends  to  dispel  the  cloud  of  fiction  con- 
Oivmp  cerning  the  remote  voyages  and 
jxx  I ancient  naval  power  of  the  Car- 
A C *500  thaginians,  yet  it  cannot  be  doubt- 
ed, that  in  the  beginning  of  the  fol- 
lowing century,  and  before  the  invasion  of 
Xerxes,  they  were  the  most  powerful  commer- 
cial nation  in  the  world.  The  proud  centre  of 
their  empire  was  surrounded  by  a cluster  of 
colonies  and  tributary  cities,  which  extended 


9 Aristot.  de  Ropub.  l.ii.  c.  xi. 

10  If  Dido  laid  the  foundation  of  so  much  prosperity 
and  happiness,  she  might  boast,  with  becoming  dignity,  of 
having  secured  immortal  fame : 

Vixi,  et  quern  dederat  cursum  fortuna  peregi, 

Urbem  prffidaram  statui,  mea  mcenia  vidi: 

Et  nunc  magna  mei  sub  terris  ibit  imago. 

Viroil,  ibid. 

11  Diodor.  1.  v.  and  Cluverius  Sicil.  Ant.  p.  507. 

12  Thucydid.  1.  i. 

13  Thucydid.  1.  i.  et  Hcrodot  1 vi. 

s 


above  a thousand  miles14  along  the  coast  of 
Africa.  Tliey  were  masters  of  Sardinia  and 
the  northern  coast  of  Sicily’.15  They  had 
established  colonies  not  only  in  Corsica,  but  in 
Malta  and  the  Balerian  isles.  They  often 
visited  the  Casseterides.  They  probably  first 
discovered  the  Canaries,  whose  equable  and 
happy  temperature  entitled  them  to  the  epithet 
of  Fortunate.  They  had  appropriated  the  gold 
mines  of  Spain,  the  Peru  and  Mexico  of  the 
ancient  world  ;16  and  all  these  advantages  be- 
ing directed  by  the  prudent  enterprise  of  the 
magistrates,  consisting  chiefly  of  merchants,17 
and  improved  by  the  patient  industry  of  the 
people,  who  knew  that  by  gaining  wealth  they 
must  attain  respect,  rendered  Carthage  the 
centre  of  general  commerce.  From  Egypt 
they  imported  linen  and  the  papyrus ; the 
coasts  of  the  Red  Sea  furnished  them  with 
spices,  perfumes,  gold,  pearls,  and  precious 
stones.13  The  rich  carpets  of  Persia  adorned 
the  palaces  of  the  Carthaginian  magistrates. 
From  Spain  they  drew  the  precious  metals 
necessary  to  facilitate  their  commerce ; and 
from  Britain  and  other  provinces  of  the  north, 
they  derived  iron,  lead,  tin,  and  copper,  equally 
necessary  to  second  all  the  efforts  of  their  in- 
dustry. The  Carthaginian  exports  consisted 
partly  in  the  produce  of  their  fertile  soil,  but 
chiefly  in  the  ingenious  labours  of  their  arti- 
ficers ; grains,  fruits,  honey,  leather,  and  flax 
of  a superior  kind  ;19  naval  stores,  particu- 
larly ropes  made  of  a species  of  broom  called 
spartum ; household  furniture,  toys,  and  the 
materials  of  the  highly  valued  Punicean  co- 
lour. Their  mechanic  arts  had  attained  a de- 
gree of  perfection  which  was  acknowledged 
and  admired  by  their  enemies  ;2°  but  the  libe- 
ral arts,  and  particularly  poetry  and  eloquence,21 


14  From  the  western  boundary  of  Cyrenaica  to  the  Straits 
of  Gibraltar,  Shaw  reckons  1420  geographical  miles ; but 
this  was  the  extent  of  the  Carthaginian  dominion  in  the 
greatest  splendour  of  the  republic.  Shaw’s  Travels,  p.  150. 

15  Polyb.  1.  iii.  c.  xxii. 

16  Auctor.  apud  Hcndreich  Respub.  Carthag.  1.  i. 

17  In  this  respect  the  government  of  Carthage  was  very 
different  from  that  of  Crete,  and  particularly  of  Sparta, 
with  both  which  Aristotle  compares  it.  Isocrates  (ad  Ni- 
coclem)  says,  that  in  civil  affairs  the  Carthaginian  govern- 
ment was  aristocratical ; in  military,  royal : this  probably 
was  the  case  in  the  earliest  times.  The  chief  magistrates 
were  called  Suffetes,  which,  in  the  Hebrew  language,  sig- 
nifies judges  (Bochart,  Canaan,)  and  might  therefore  be 
naturally  translated  by  the  word  /3s6o-<Xe«;,  in  Greek.  But 
it  appears  from  Aristotle,  that  these  judges  or  kings,  who 
were  two  in  number,  were  nothing  more  than  annual  ma- 
gistrates, who  convoked  the  senate,  and  presided  in  that 
assembly.  When  the  senate  and  suffetes  were  of  one  mind, 
the  people  had  no  vote  in  the  management  of  public  affairs ; 
but  when  their  opinions  were  different,  it  belonged  to  the 
people  to  decide.  Aristotle  regards  this  as  an  imperfection 
in  their  constitution  ; and  time  justified  his  opinion.  In  a 
commercial  republic,  where  the  people  gradually  become 
more  rich  and  more  licentious,  such  a regulation  naturally 
tended  to  throw  too  much  power  into  their  hands.  During 
the  century  which  elapsed  from  Aristotle  to  Hannibal,  tho 
people  of  Carthage  became  more  powerful  than  the  senate  ; 
at  Rome  the  senate  were  more  powerful  than  the  people : 
and  to  these  circumstances  chiefly,  the  most  judicious  au- 
thor of  antiquity  ascribes  tho  very  different  fortune  of  the 
two  nations  in  the  ever  memorable  wars  waged  between 
them.  Polyb.  1.  vi. 

18  Pliny,  I.  xxxviii.  c.  vii.  tells  us,  that  carbuncles  were 
so  common  in  Carthage,  that  they  were  generally  known 
by  the  name  of  Carthaginian. 

19  Xenophon,  de  Venatione. 

20  Cato  do  Re  Rustica,  et  Valerius  Maximus,  1.  vii. 

21  The  great  Hannibal  was  a lovor  of  Greek  loarning,  and 
composed  several  books  in  that  languago.  Cornelius  Ne- 


138 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


seem  never  to  have  flourished  oy  taken  rooit  in 
their  republic  : a circumstance  more  fatal  to 
the  renown  of  Carthage  than  all  the  destruc- 
tive ravages  of  the  Romans,  whose  immortal 
hate  would  have  found  it  more  difficult  to  abo- 
lish the  elegant  inventions  of  genius,  than  to 
extinguish  the  most  splendid  monuments  of 
wealth  and  grandeur. 

Few  individuals  are  able  to  enjoy,  without 
abusing,  the  gifts  of  fortune;. and  no  nation 
ever  possessed  power,  without  aspiring  at  con- 
quest. But  the  commercial  ambition  of  the 
Carthaginians  was  distinguished  by  an  exclu- 
sive and  jealous  spirit,  which  sought  to  stifle 
the  activity  and  improvements  of  every  people 
that  might  ever  become  their  rival.  In  the 
end  of  the  sixth  century  before  Christ,  and 
twenty-eight  years  before  the  invasion  of 
Xerxes,  they  concluded  a treaty  with  Rome, 
recently  delivered  from  the  tyranny  of  its 
kings,  which  marks  the  utmost  solicitude  to 
prevent  the  new  republic  from  ever  enter- 
ing into  correspondence,  or  ever  gaining  ac- 
quaintance1 with  the  dependencies  of  Car- 
thage. The  Greek  colonies  in  Italy  and  Si- 
cily, which,  within  the  course  of  sixty  years, 
had  (for  reasons  that  will  immediately  be  ex- 
plained) received  such  accessions  of  strength 
and  splendour,  as  entitled  those  countries  to 
the  appellation  of  Magna  Graecia,2  more  justly 
alarmed  the  jealousy,  and  provoked  the  en- 
vious resentment  of  the  Carthaginian  magis- 
trates. The  Greeks  were  already  masters  of 
the  eastern  isles  and  shores  of  the  Mediterra- 
nean. They  were  not  only  a warlike,  but  an 
ingenious  and  commercial  nation.  The  naval 
force  of  the  Phocseans  alone  had  defied  and 
disgraced  the  united  fleets  of  the  Tuscans  and 
Carthaginians.  The  latter  therefore  beheld, 
with  the  utmost  satisfaction,  the  continual 
sparks  of  hostility  that  broke  out  between  the 
Greeks  and  Persians.  They  learned,  with  ad- 
miration and  delight,  the  mighty  preparations 
of  Xerxes ; but  were  still  more  delighted  when 
the  great  king,  who  had  been  accustomed  to 
receive  the  presents  and  the  adulation  of  the 
tributary  princes  of  Asia,  condescended  to  de- 
mand an  equal  alliance  with  their  republic ; 
probably  granted  them  subsidies  to  raise  troops 
in  Spain,  Gaul,  and  the  northern  parts  of  Italy ; 
and  only  required  them  to  join  their  efforts 
with  his  own,  to  punish,  and  if  possible,  to  ex- 
tirpate the  natural  enemies  of  both.  The 
crafty  Africans  greedily  accepted  proposi- 
tions, seemingly  so  favourable  to  their  interest; 
and,  after  three  years  preparations,  had  col- 
lected an  armament  of  two  thousand  ships 


pos  in  Hannibal. — Silenus,  another  Carthaginian,  wrote 
history  in  Greek.  Cicer.  de  Divinat. — Sallust  speaks  of 
Punic  books  in  his  history  of  the  Jugurthine  war;  and  we 
know  that  Mago’s  Treatise  of  Rural  Economy,  in  twenty- 
eight  books,  was  translated  by  order  of  the  Roman  senate, 
although  the  elder  Cato  had  previously  handled  that  im- 
portant subject.  I mention  not  the  spurious  voyage  of 
Hanno,  since  better  proofs  of  the  Carthaginian  literature 
may  be  found  in  the  second  and  eighteenth  books  of  Pliny. 
But  two  observations  naturally  present  themselves,  which 
justify  what  is  said  in  the  text ; first,  that  the  Carthaginians 
wrote  rather  on  the  useful  than  ornamental  arts;  and  se- 
condly, that  their  greatest  writers  preferred  the  Greek  to  the 
Punic  language. 

1 Polyb.  1.  iii.  c.  xxii. 

2 Strabo,  1.  viii.  p.  389. 


of  war,  £nd  three  thousand  transports  to  con- 
vey an  army  of  three  hundred  thousand  men 
into  Magna  Grsecia.3  It  was  determined  be- 
tween the  confederates,  that  while  Xerxes 
poured  his  millions  into  the  centre  of  Greece, 
and  rooted  out  the  original  stock  of  the  devoted 
nation,  the  Carthaginians  should  cut  off*  its 
flourishing  branches  in  Italy  and  Sicily.  The 
terms  of  the  agreement  were  carefully  ob- 
served ; the  combined  attack  was  made  at  the 
time  appointed ; and  Europe  is  interested  in 
knowing  to  what  particular  causes  must  be 
ascribed  the  failure  of  expeditions,  which,  if 
successful,  would  probably  have  inverted  her 
destiny,  and  deprived  her  of  the  boasted  supe- 
riority which  she  thenceforth  maintained  over 
the  other  quarters  of  the  world. 

Whoever  has  observed  the  desolate  barbarity 
of  Calabria,  or  reflected  on  the  narrow  extent 
and  present  weakness  of  Sicily,  cannot  hear, 
without  a mixture  of  surprise  and  incredulity, 
that  five  centuries  before  Christ,  those  countries 
contained  above  twenty  warlike  communities, 
several  of  whom  could  send  into  the  field  a 
hundred  thousand  fighting  men.  The  hasty 
glance  of  impatient  ignorance  will  confidently 
reject,  on  this  subject,  the  evidence  of  aiiti- 
quity,  as  contrary  to  probability  and  experience ; 
the  contemplative  visionary  will  admit  the  fact, 
and  deduce  from  it  many  gloomy  reflections  on 
the  old  age  and  decay  of  the  world ; but  the 
more  practical  philosopher  will  attempt  to  dis- 
cover the  causes  of  the  ancient  and  actual  state 
of  Magna  Grsecia,  in  the  history  and  institu- 
tions of  that  country  during  the  respective 
periods  of  time  which  are  the  objects  of  his 
research. 

The  establishment  of  Euboean  Cumas,  the 
mother  of  Parthenope,  or  Naples,  and  the  foun- 
dation of  a few  other  Grecian  cities  in  Italy 
and  Sicily,  remounts,  as  already  mentioned,  to 
the  heroic  ages ; but  by  far  the  greater  number 
of  Greek  colonies  in  those  parts  were  planted 
during  the  eighth  century  before  the  Christian 
era,4  and  chiefly,  1.  by  the  Euboeans,  whose 
principal  city,  Chalcis,  usually  furnishing  the 
conductor  of  the  colony,  gave  the  epithet  of 
Chalcidian  to  the  new  settlements  ; 2.  by  the 
Achseans  of  Peloponnesus,  who  were  of  the 
Eolian  tongue  and  lineage ; and,  3.  by  the  Do- 
rian states  of  that  peninsula, especially  Corinth  ; 
to  which  city  may  be  applied  the  observation 
of  ancient  republicans  concerning  the  fathers 
of  Cato’  and  Brutus,  that  as  children  often  de- 
rived lustre  from  the  merit  of  their  parents,  so 
Corinth  acquired  renown  from  the  splendour 
and  prosperity  of  its  children.  Besides  their 
powerful  colonies  in  Corcyra,  Leucas,  Anac- 
torium,  Ambracia,  whose  transactions  form 
p.,  such  an  important  part  of  the  his- 

ymp.  tory  ancjent  Greece,  the  Corin- 
thians  founded  Syracuse,  which 

’ ~ ' soon  became,  and  long  continued, 

the  capital  of  Sicily.  Seventy  years  after  their 
establishment  there,  the  inhabitants  of  Syra- 
cuse built  Acras,  and  afterwards,  at  an  equal 
distance  of  time,  Camerina.  Many  other  cities 

3 Ilerodot.  1.  vii.  ct  Diodor.  1.  xi. 

4 Between  the  10th  and  30th  Olympiads,  and  the  years 

737  and  777  B.  C. 


XI.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


13D 


of  less  note  owed  their  birth  to  the  same  me- 
tropolis ; so  that  in  the  sixth  century  before 
Christ,  the  Syracusans  had  extended  their  set 
tlements  over  all  the  southern  coast  of  the 
island.5  We  had  already  an  opportunity  to 
mention  on  what  occasion  the  Lacedcemonians 
founded  the  city  of  Tarentum  in 
2^'  Italy;  thirty -nine  years  afterwards, 
A *c  7Q7  Rhegium  was  built  by  the  Messe- 
nians  and  Chalcidians,  the  former 
of  whom  (as  we  have  related  above)  had  al- 
ready settled  at  Messene,  on  the  opposite  shore 
of  Sicily.  The  citizens  of  Tarentum  founded 
Heraclea,  situated  on  the  Tarentine  gulf,  and 
perhaps  gave  an  accession  of  inhabitants  to 
Locri,  which,  though  originally  planted  by  the 
Eolians,  seems  early  to  have  used  the  Doric 
dialect.  The  Rhodians,  who  were  also  of  the 
Doric  race,  built  the  city  of  Gela  in  Sicily, 
forty-five  years  after  the  foundation  of  Syra- 
Oivmn  cuse  >6  an(I  plated  the  flou- 
xlix  3 rishingcolony  of  Agrigentum, which 

A C 582  S00n  surPasse(I  splendour  of  its 
metropolis,  and  became  the  second 
city  in  the  island. 

By  means  of  these  powerful  establishments, 
the  Dorians  acquired,  and  always  maintained 
an  ascendant  in  Sicily  ; but  the  Achsean  colo- 
nies, who  were  of  the  Eolian  blood  and  lan- 
guage,7 commanded  the  Italian  shore.  Crotona, 
the  most  considerable  city  of  the  Achseans,  and 
of  all  Italy  in  ancient  times,  was  built  seven 
hundred  and  ten  years  before  Christ.®  Sybaris, 
its  rival,  was  founded  about  the  same  time,  and 
by  the  same  nation.  The  former  sent  colonies 
to  Tirina,  Caulonia,  and  Padosia ; the  latter 
built  Laus,  Metapontum,  and  Posidonia,  or 
Paestum,0  whose  admired  ruins  attest  the  an- 
cient wealth  and  grandeur  of  the  Greek  cities 
of  Italy. 

In  this  deduction,  had  we  followed  the  order 
of  time,  we  ought  to  have  mentioned,  first  of 
all,  the  Ionian  colonies,  who  came  from  the  isle 
of  Euboea.  The  inhabitants  of  that  island 
built  Naxus  in  Sicily,  a year  before  the  foun- 
dation-of  Syracuse;10  but  neither  that, nor  their 
settlements  at  Catana,  Egesta,  Leontium,  ever 
attained  considerable  populousness  or  splen- 
dour. And  it  deserves  to  be  particularly  re- 
marked, that,  for  reasons  which  will  appear  in 
the  sequel  of  this  work,  the  Ionians,  who  set- 
tled chiefly  near  the  eastern  shore  of  Siqily, 
never  rivalled  the  power\and  fame  of  their 
Dorian  and  Eolian  neighbours,  but  fell  short 
of  those  nations  in  Magna  Graecia,  as  much  as 
they  surpassed  them  in  the  shores  and  islands 
of  Asia. 

Instead  of  fatiguing  the  memory  of  our  read- 
ers with  the  names  of  less  considerable  states  or 
cities,  which  had  little  influence  on  the  general 
affairs  of  the  whole  country,11  it  is  of  more  im- 


5 Scymnus,  v.  293.  Thucyd.  1.  vi.  et  Herodot.  1.  vii. 
fi  Thucyd.  1.  vi. 

7 Strabo,  I.  viii.  p.  513.  assures  us  of  tho  latter  circum- 
stance, which  is  of  more  importance  than  tho  uncertain 
genealogy  of  tho  ancient  Grecian  tribes. 

8 Dionys.  Halicarn.  l.-ii. 

9 Scymnus,  v.  245.  10  Thucyd. 

11  The  Magna  Graecia,  which  I always  use  in  the  sense 

of  Strabo,  cited  above,  to  denote  the  Greek  settlements  in 
Sicily  as  well  as  Italy,  being  the  most  accessible  part  of  the 
Grecian  dominions,  has  been  more  fully  described  by  the 


porta  nee  to  examine  the  circumstances  to  which 
the  inhabitants  of  Magna  Graecia  owed  their 
flourishing  situation  at  the  period  of  time  of 
ni  which  we  write,  when  (it  may  be 

lx/7*  boldly  affirmed)  these  colonies 
A C *500  e(lua^e<I*  anc*  exceeded,  the  wealth 
and  power  of  the  mother  country. 
We  shall  not  insist  on  the  well-known  physical 
and  moral  causes  which  usually  contribute  to 
the  rapid  growth  of  newly-established  colonies. 
It  is  evident,  that  amidst  the  equality  of  for- 
tune, and  simplicity  of  manners,  which  com- 
monly prevail  in  such  communities,  men  who 
have  a wide  country  before  them  must  natu- 
rally multiply  far  beyond  the  proportion  of  na- 
tions corrupted  and  weakened  by  the  vices  of 
wealth,  luxury,  and  above  all,  of  vanity,  which 
perhaps  is  the  greatest  enemy  to  the  increase 
of  the  human  species.  It  is  sufficient  barely  to 
mention  the  natural  fertility  of  Magna  Grsecia, 
and  particularly  of  Sicily,  which  in  many  places 
produced  a hundred  fold.12  The  Greeks  who 
sailed  thither  from  Peloponnesus,  carried  with 
them  the  knowledge  and  practice  of  agricul- 
ture, which  had  early  attained  a high  degree  of 
perfection  in  their  peninsula;  and  the  exuberant 
soil  of  Sicily,  improved  by  cultivation,  soon  ex- 
hibited a picture  of  that  rich  abundance,  which, 
in  later  times,  made  that  beautiful  island  be 
entitled  the  granary  of  Rome.13 

The  peculiar  situation  of  the  Achseans  and 
Dorians,  from  whom,  chiefly,  the  colonies  in 
Magna  Grsecia  derived  their  origin,  had  a con- 
siderable influence  in  accelerating  the  popula- 
tion and  grandeur  of  these  new  establishments. 
The  Achaeans,  whose  republic  became  so  fa- 
mous in  later  times,  and  that  in  consequence 
of  circumstances  which  it  is  necessary  at  pre- 
sent to  describe,  originally  inhabited  a long,  but 
narrow  strip  of  ground,  not  more  fertile  than 
extensive,  along  the  Corinthian  gulf,  whose 
ocky  shores  were  destitute  of  good  harbours.14 
But  the  impartial  and  generous  spirit  of  the 
Achsean  laws  early  compensated  the  natural 
defects  of  their  territory.  They  were  the  first, 
and  long  the  only  republic  of  Greece,  who  ad- 
mitted strangers  into  their  community  on  equal 
terms  with  the  ancient  citizens.15  In  their  truly 
free  country,  no  powerful  capital,  like  Thebes  in 
Bceotia,  or  Athens  in  Attica,  domineered  over 
the  inferior  towns  and  villages.  Twelve  cities, 
which  had  common  laws  and  institutions,  and 
afterwards  common  weights  and  measures,1  c 
sent  deputies  to  Helic6,  which  is  distinguished 
by  Homer17  as  the  most  considerable  town  of 
Achaia.  That  place  being  destroyed  by  an 
earthquake1®  three  hundred  and  seventy  three. 

moderns  than  any  other.  The  immense  collection  of  the 
Thesaurus  Siculus,  and  particularly  vols.  i.  iv.  vii.  viii.  and 
xiii.  aflbrd  useful  materials,  as  well  as  Cluveri;  Sicil.  An- 
tiqua,  and  Fazellus  do  Rebus  Siculis,  and  the  excellent 
work  of  Gio.  Balt.  Caruso,  Memorie  isloriche  di  quanto  e 
accaduto  in  Sicilia  clal  tempo  d<i  suoi  primi  habitanti  fmo 
ai  Normanni. 

12  Strabo,  1.  viii.  13  Diodorus  1.  xvi. 

14  Plutareh,  in  Arato,  p.  1031. 

15  Polybius,  1.  ii.  p.  178. 

16  Polybius,  ibid,  mentions  this  circumstance,  to  show 

how  desirous  they  were  to  have  every  thing  common  and 
equal  among  them.  17  II.  ii.  in  the  catalogue. 

18  Strabo,  1.  viii.  p.  589.  says,  the  earthquake  happened 
two  years  before  the  battle  of  I.eucra,  which  was  fought. 
371  years  before  Christ. 


140 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


years  before  Christ,  iEgse  became  the  seat  of 
the  general  congress,  which  regulated  public 
affairs,  and  appointed  annual  magistrates  and 
generals  to  execute  their  resolutions,  who  were 
accountable  to  the  congress,  or  council,  as  the 
members  of  the  council  themselves  were  to  the 
cities  by  which  they  had  been  named  and  con- 
stituted.1 This  excellent  system  of  govern- 
ment, which  checked  the  ambition,  while  it 
maintained  the  independence  of  Achaia,2  de- 
fended that  fortunate  country  against  the  con- 
vulsions which  shook  and  overwhelmed  the 
most  powerful  republics  of  Greece.  It  was 
A r then  that  the  Achseans,  who  during 

’ * * many  ages  had  enjoyed  their  equi- 

table laws  in  silence,  emerged  from  obscurity ; 
and  communicating  their  government  on  equal 
terms  to  the  neighbouring  cities  of  Pelopon- 
nesus, preserved  the  feeble  spark  of  liberty, 
every  where  extinguished  around  them,  for  one 
hundred  and  thirty-six  years,  till  they  finally 
yielded  to  the  power  and  policy  of  Rome.3 
This  short  period  of  war  and  tumult  has  been 
minutely  described  in  history,  while  the  many 
happy  centuries  that  preceded  it  are  but  occa- 
sionally glanced  at  by  ancient  writers : and 
were  it  not  for  the  defeats  and  calamities  which 
the  Achseans  suffered  in  later  times,  we  should, 
perhaps,  be  ignorant  that  their  ancestors  an- 
ciently possessed  an  equitable  and  generous 
policy,  which  being  transported  with  them  into 
Magna  Graecia,  could  not  fail  to  promote  the 
happiness  and  prosperity  of  that  delightful 
country.4 

The  condition  of  the  Dorians  at  the  time 
when  they  planted  colonies  in  Italy  and  Sicily, 
is  not  less  worthy  of  remark.  The  Dorian 
states  of  Peloponnesus  were  then  universally 
subject  to  the  gentle  government  of  limited  but 
hereditary  princes,  or  to  magistrates  chosen 
from  the  descendants  of  their  ancient  royal 
families,5  and  who,  thus  adorned  by  birth, 
were  sometimes  still  more  ennobled  by  wisdom 
and  virtue.6  It  is  the  nature  of  colonies  to  pre- 
serve with  affectionate  respect  the  institutions 
of  the  mother  country,  which  often  improve  by 
transplantation,  and  thrive  and  flourish  in 
foreign  lands,  when  they  have  withered  and 
perished  in  the  soil  which  originally  produced 
and  propagated  them.  Time  and  accident,  and 
the  various  causes  which  have  been  explained 
in  the  course  of  this  history,  tended  to  change 
the  ancient  constitution,  and  to  diminish  the 
strength  of  the  Grecian  states  on  both  sides  the 


1 Polybius,  1.  ii.  p.  178. 

2 Schook.  Achaia,  apud  Gronov.  Thes.  t.  v. 

3 Polyb.  Excerpt.  Legat.  et  Titus  Livius,  1.  xxxviii.  et 
xxxix. 

4 Xenophon,  in  his  Greek  history,  speaks  of  the  excel- 
lence of  the  Achaean  laws,  in  treating  a passage  of  history 
which  will  be  related  in  the  sequel.  Polybius  was  evidently 
engaged  to  enter  deeper  into  this  subject,  by  the  reasou  as- 
signed in  the  text. 

5 These  were  properly  the  only  nobility  in  Greece  ; they 
were  called  evirxTg iSxi,  and  long  held  sway  in  all  the  Gre- 
cian states.  S.  Petitus  has  collected  the  most  important 
passages  concerning  them  in  his  commentary  on  the  ancient 
Athenian  law,  “ Tsuj,  ZvrrxrgiSxg  yivwrxsiv  tx  3-eix,  xxi 
rrxg-%nv  xgWVTXg,  xxi  vo/xuv  SiSxmcxKovf  tivxi , xxi 

crtjjv  xxi  noxv  srviytiTxi.”  That  the  Eupatridse,  or  no- 
bility, administer  the  rites  of  religion,  fill  the  offices  of  ma- 
gistracy, interpret  the  laws,  and  explain  all  sacred  and 
divine  matters.” 

6 Thucydid.  1.  i. 


[Chap. 

Corinthian  Isthmus.  While  fierce  and  frequent 
wars  exhausted  their  population,  the  exclusive 
spirit  of  republican  jealousy,  which  sternly  re- 
fused' strangers  any  participation  in  their  go- 
vernment, or  any  protection  from  their  laws, 
naturally  repressed  their  vigour  and  stunted 
their  growth.  The  colonies  in  Magna  Graecia, 
enjoying  a wide  territory  before  them,  had  not 
the  same  interference  of  interest,  and  found 
sufficient  employment  in  subduing  the  original 
inhabitants  of  that  country,  without  com- 
mencing hostilities  against  each  other.  Nor 
were  they  more  ambitious  to  subdue  the  barba- 
rous natives,  than  solicitous  to  incorporate  them 
into  their  own  communities.  The  kings,  or 
nobility,  of  Magna  Graecia,  secure  of  their  own 
pre-eminence,  felt7  nothing  of  the  republican 
jealousies  which  prevailed  in  the  mother  coun- 
try. They  received  with  pleasure  new  citizens, 
or  rather  subjects,  from  whatever  quarter  they 
might  come.  The  Barbarians  adopted  the  lan- 
guage and  manners  of  the  nation  to  whom  they 
were  associated ; their  children  received  a Gre- 
cian education ; and  the  states  of  Italy  and 
Sicily  thus  increasing  by  degrees,  could  soon 
boast,  the  foimer  of  Crotona,  Tarentum,  Sy ba- 
ns, Rhegium ; the  latter  of  Syracuse,  Agri- 
gentum,  Messene,  Himera,  and  several  other 
cities,  which  rivalled  or  surpassed  the  wealth 
of  Athens  or  Corinth,  and  the  populousness  of 
Thebes,  Argos,  or  Sparta.  * 

The  wars,  conquests,  or  oppressions,  but 
above  all,  the  civil  dissensions,  which  in  the 
sixth  century  before  Christ  disturbed  and  de- 
formed the  coast  of  Ionia,  and  the  other  Gre- 
cian colonies  in  the  islands  and  continent  of 
Asia,  brought  frequent  accessions  of  inhabitants 
to  the  shores  of  Magna  Graecia.  In  that  age 
the  Asiatic  Greeks  had  attained  greater  pro- 
ficiency, both  in  the  useful  and  in  the  agreeable 
arts,  than  any  other  portion  of  the  Grecian 
name ; but  they  had  also  sunk  deeper  in  volup- 
tuousness and  luxury.  Their  poetry,  which 
still  remains,  alike  attests  the  refinement  of 
their  taste,  and  the  corruption  of  their  morals. 
The  effeminate  vices,  for  which  the  Ionians 
were  thenceforth  in  all  ages  infamous,6  seem  to 
have  taken  deep  root  in  that  century  ; and  it  is 
probable,  that  along  with  their  poetry,  music, 
and  painting,  they  communicated  also  their  dis- 
solute and  artificial  appetites  to  the  Greeks  of 
Italy  and  Sicily. 

But  whether  this  be  admitted,  or  whether  we 
suppose  that,  according  to  the  ordinary  course 
of  events,  the  inhabitants  of  Magna  Graecia 
having  attained  opulence  by  industry,  dissipated 
it  in  idleness  and  licentiousness,  it  is  acknow- 
ledged by  all  writers  on  this  part  of  history, 
that  the  Greek  cities  of  Italy,  and  particularly 
Sybaris  and  Crotona,  had  degenerated  from 
their  ancient  maxims,  and  fallen  a prey  to  the 
most  dangerous  errors  and  vices,  when  Pytha- 
goras came  to  their  relief,  about  five  hundred 
and  fifty  years  before  the  Christian  era. 

7  The  same  policy  was  practised  by  Macedon ; and,  as 
we  shall  have  occasion  to  relate,  was  the  primary  cause  of 
the  Macedonian  greatness. 

8  Molus  docori  gaudet  Jonicos 
Matura  virgo,  et  fingitur  artibus 
Jam  nunc,  et  incestos  amoves 
De  tenero  meditator  ungue.  Horace 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


141 


XI.] 


The  philosophy  of  Pythagoras  forms  an  im- 
portant object  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind : 
and  if  we  admit  the  concurring  testimony  of 
ancient  authors,9  the  philosophy,  or  rather  the 
legislation,  of  this  extraordinary  man,  reformed 
and  improved  the  manners  and  policy  of  Magna 
Graecia,  and  contributed  in  an  eminent  degree, 
not  only  to  the  quiet  and  happiness,  but  to  the 
industry,  power,  and  splendour,  of  that  cele- 
brated country.  Lest  this  influence  should 
appear  too  great,  and  even  incredible,  in  a stran- 
ger, who  is  known  to  have  studiously  declined 
all  public  offices  and  authority,  the  occasion  re- 
quires that  we  should  explain  the  means  by 
which  such  extraordinary  effects  were  produced, 
p.,  Pythagoras  was  born  at  Samos,19 

xl^  when  Samos  was  the  richest  and 

A r 'em  most  flourishing  of  all  the  Grecian 
isles.  His  father,  Mnesarchus,  be- 
ing a person  of  distinction  in  his  country,* 11  the 
promising  youth  was  carefully  instructed  in 
the  learning  known  or  valued  in  that  early  age. 
Music,  poetry,  and  the  gymnastic  exercises, 
formed  the  principal  part  of  his  education  ; but 
the  young  philosopher,  if  we  may  anticipate 
that  name,  was  not  indifferent12  to  the  discove- 
ries of  Thales,  the  first  Grecian  who  nearly 
calculated  an  eclipse  of  the  sun  ; and  he  early 
set  himself  to  rival  the  Milesian  sage  in  his  fa- 
vourite studies.  It  is  recorded,  that  he  learned 
eloquence  from  Pherecydes  of  Syros,13  who  re- 
sided a considerable  time  in  the  isle  of  Samos, 
and  who  is  famous  in  the  literary  history  of 
Greece,  as  the  first  author  in  prose.14  Pittacus 
of  Lesbos,  Bias  of  Prene,  and  the  other  sophists, 
or  wise  men  (as  they  were  emphatically  styled 
by  their  contemporaries)  who  then  flourished 
in  Asiatic  Greece,  and  whose  abilities  and  vir- 
tue had  raised  them,  in  troubled  times,  to  the 
head  of  the  several  communities  of  which  they 
were  respectively  members,  excited  the  kindred 
ambition  of  Pythagoras,  who  appears  to  have 
been  early  animated  with  the  desire  of  acquiring 
just  renown,  by  promoting  public  happiness. 
In  his  eighteenth  year  he  visited  the  continent 
of  Greece,  and  gained  the  prize  oft^yrestling  at 
the  Olympic  games,15  where  his  vjgotr,  address, 
and  beauty,  were  beheld  with  admiration  by 
the  multitude  ; while  the  opening  virtues  of  his 
mind  were  still  more  admired  by  men  of  sense 
and  discernment.  In  conformity  with  the  prac- 
tice of  an  age  when  the  feeble  rays  of  know- 
ledge were  scattered  over  a wide  surface,  and 
much  pains  were  requisite  to  collect  them,  he 


9 Particularly  Aristoxenus,  the  learned  disciple  of  Aris- 
totle (apud  Stobteum,  Serm.  xli.;)  various  ancient  authors 
cited  by  .Tamblicus  and  Porphyry,  as  well  as  by  Diogenes 
Laertius,  1.  viii.;  to  which  add  Justin,  1.  xx.  and  Cicero, 
Tusc.  Quest,  de  Amicitia,  et  de  Oratore.  “ Pythagoras 
exornavit  earn  Gneciam  quae  Magna  dicta  est,  el  privatim 
et  publice,  praestantissimis  ct  institutis  ct  artibus.”  Cicero 
de  Amicitia. 

10  Isocrates  in  Busiri.  Titus  Livius,  1.  i.  c.  xviii.  Lucian. 
Lexiphanes.  To  these  authorities  we  may  add,  that  Pytha- 
goras is  represented  on  several  Samian  coins.  Fabric. 
Bibl.  Graca,  t.  i.  p.  455. 

11  Mnesarchus  was  sent  from  Samos  to  consult  the  oracle 
of  Delphi,  probably  on  some  public  occasion.  Jam.  in  Vit. 
Pythag. 

12  Apollon,  apud  Jamblichum. 

13  Diogenes  apud  Porph. 

14  Plin.  N.  II.  I.  vii.  c.  lvi 

15  Jambl.  Porph.  &c 


withdrew  himself  from  the  applauses  of  his 
countrymen,  and  for  a longer  time  than  was 
usual  with  the  Grecian  travellers.  This  cir- 
cumstance gave  occasion  to  many  fables  con- 
cerning the  extent  and  variety  of  his  voyages.16 
But  it  is  certain  that  he  resided  several  years  in 
the  ancient  kingdom  of  Egypt,17  which  had 


16  The  travels  of  the  Greek  philosopher  were  spoken  of 
in  vague  terms,  and  magnified  even  by  great  writers.  Ulti 
mas  terras  lustrasse  Pythagoram,  Deinocritum,  Platonem 
accepimus.  Cicero  de  Finibus,  1.  iv.  c.  xix.  We  may  well 
believe  then,  that  such  men  as  Hermippus  (apud  Joseph, 
ad  vers.  Apionem,)  Apollonius,  Jamblichus,  &c.  would 
carry  their  exaggerations  to  the  highest  degree  of  incredi- 
bility on  this  fertile  subject.  The  chief  source  of  these 
fables,  and  of  the  supposed  learning  of  the  Magi,  Chaldaeans, 
Indians,  &c.  may  be  found  in  the  credulous  or  lying  writers 
who  accompanied  Alexander  in  his  eastern  expedition. 
At  their  return  to  Greece,  they  magnified  the  learning,  as 
well  as  the  power  and  wealth,  of  the  nations  conquered  by 
their  patron;  they  were  solicitous  to  persuade  their  coun- 
trymen, that  their  ancestors  had  learned  their  philosophy 
from  people  whose  names  they  had  never  before  beards  and 
their  own  vanity  was  flattered  by  having  visited,  and  fa- 
miliarly known  those  fancied  instructors  of  mankind. 
Clearchus,  Onesicritus,  and  Callisthenes,  were  the  most 
celebrated  of  these  writers,  of  whom  Diogenes  Laertius,  or 
rather  a far  superior  man  whom  he  cites,  says,  Aavflavouo-t 

XVTOVg  TX  TU1V  E\X.>]l/Ci)i;  XXTXgQwfiXTX  Bxg&XgOlg  7TQ0  — 

a-x7TTovTig.  “They  are  mistaken,  when  they  refer  the 
Grecian  discoveries  to  the  Barbarians.”  It  was  natural  for 
the  eastern  nations,  when  they  had  adopted  the  language 
and  learning  of  the  Greeks,  to  avail  themselves  of  Grecian 
authorities,  to  prove  how  much  that  celebrated  nation 
owed  to  people  whom  they  proudly  denominated  Barba- 
rians. Hence  the  fables  of  Berosus  the  Chaldaean,  of  Ma- 
netho  the  Egyptian,  of  Sanchoniathon  the  Phoenician.  We 
except  from  this  class  of  fabulists  the  Jew,  Josephus,  the 
antiquity  of  whose  nation  rests  on  evidence  which  it  would 
be  irreverent  to  name  in  such  company.  Had  Pythagoras 
or  Thales  been  acquainted  with  the  Jewish  religion,  they 
would  have  learned  far  nobler  notions  of  the  Deity,  than 
those  which  it  appears  they  entertained.  Anaxagoras,  sur- 
named  o vovg,  the  preceptor  of  the  great  Pericles,  was  the 
first  Grecian  philosopher  who  saw,  by  the  light  of  reason, 
the  natural  and  moral  attributes  of  God,  so  sublimely 
described  in  the  Psalms  of  David.  Yet  it  never  was  said, 
that  Anaxagoras  had  seen  the  Psalms,  the  Books  of  Moses, 
or  any  part  of  the  sacred  writings ; and  it  may  be  remarked, 
that  Josephus  himself,  in  his  first  book  (cont.  Ap.,)  how- 
ever zealous  to  prove,  that  the  Greeks  derived  their  know- 
ledge from  the  East,  can  cite  no  author  in  favour  of  this 
opinion,  who  lived  before  the  age  of  Alexander. 

17  There  is  a famous  passage  in  Isocrates’s  panegyric 
of  Busiris,  which  might  seem  to  contradict  what  is  said  in 
the  preceding  note,  if  we  did  not  reflect,  that  the  rules  of 
panegyric  require  not  always  a strict  adherence  to  historical 
truth.  In  speaking  of  the  ancient  wisdom  and  piety  of  the 
Egyptians,  and  particularly  of  the  sacerdotal  order,  he  says, 
that  he  himself  is  not  the  first  who  perceived  and  acknow- 
ledged their  merit ; that  many  philosophers  had  done  this 
before  him,  and  particularly  Pythagoras  the  Samian.  Of 
xQtxof/.svog  etg  AiyviTTOv,  jc xi  /uxSqrqg  sxstvcov  ysvoftsvogj 
rv[V  ts  xWyv  <pi\.oa-o(pixv  jt^uito;  stg  tou;  E\Kv,vxg  sxo /uttrs, 
xxi  Toe  Trig * roe;  3'virixg  ts  xxi  Txg  xytarTiixg  Toe;  ev  toi; 
isgotg  STrttpxvstrrsgov  rwv  ceXXoov  STTrOuSxtriv.  qyov/xsvogt  £i 
xxi  /xv\Ssv  oootco  Six  txutx  tt\s iov  ytyv o»ts  Txgx  tu>v  6siuv, 
X\KX  TTXgX  ys  TOlg  XvdgUlTTOlg  SX  TOVTltiV  [XX'kKTTX  XV  SvSo- 
xnjuyjirstv.  OTrsg  xvtw  xxt  irvvsGtt.  Toctovtov  yxg  svSofcix 
tou;  oeWou;  xrrxvTxg  vrrsgiG x\sv,  wtrrs  xxt  tou;  vsui Tsgovg 
xrrxvTxg  sttiSv/xsiv  xvtov  [*x&v\Txg  siveee,  xxi  to ug  TrgetrSv- 
Tigovg  qSiov  ogxv  tou;  rrxtSxg  tou;  xvtwv  sxsivcu  trvyyi- 
yvoftsvovg  v\  tmv  oixsiuv  s7rifJts\ov/xsvovg.  “ Who  coming 
to  Egypt,  and  being  instructed  by  the  priests  of  that  country, 
first  introduced  other  kinds  of  learning  into  Greece,  arid 
particularly  a more  accurate  knowledge  of  religious  rites 
and  ceremonies,”  (I  have  generalized  the  expression  Sva-txg 
xxi  xyicrTBixg  sv  roig  isgoig,)  “of  which  he  was  a careful 
observer,  thinking  that  although  he  were  entitled  to  no  pe- 
culiar favour  on  that  account  from  the  gods,  he  would 
thereby,  at  least,  procure  esteem  among  men,  which  also 
happened  to  him ; for  he  so  far  eclipsed  the  glory  of  all 
other  philosophers,  that  all  the  young  desired  to  become  his 
disciples,  and  the  old  were  better  pleased  to  see  their  sons 
in  tho  company  of  Pythagoras,  than  engaged  in  the  most 
lucrative  or  honourable  pursuits.”  If  what  is  said  in  my 
account  of  the  life  and  writings  of  Isocrates  be  considered 
with  attention,  this  passage  will  only  serve  to  confirm  the 
observations  in  the  text. 


142 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


been  long  familiarly  known  to  the  Grecian 
mariners,  and  where  the  son  of  Mnesarchus 
might  probably  enjoy  the  protection  of  many 
hereditary  friends.  In  that  country  he  proba- 
bly made  some  additions  to  his  knowledge  in 
arithmetic  and  geometry  ; he  certainly  learned 
many  traditions  concerning  the  gods,  and  the 
human  soul : but  what  particularly  deserved 
his  attention  was,  the  secret  symbolic  wri- 
ting of  the  priests,  and  the  singular  institu- 
tions and  policy  of  the  sacerdotal  order,  by 
which  that  body  of  men  had  long  been  enabled 
to  govern  prince  and  people.1  At  his  return 
^ from  Egypt  and  the  East,  Pytha- 

goras  found  his  native  country  go- 
A r cfin  verned,  or  rather  insulted,  by  the 
artful  and  long  fortunate  Poly- 
crates ; a tyrant  whose  power  seemed  so  firmly 
established,  that  there  remained  no  hopes  to 
subvert  it,  and  under  whose  jealous  eye  the 
son  of  Mnesarchus  could  neither  display  his  ta- 
lents, nor  enjoy  personal  security  : he  therefore 
returned  to  European  Greece,  and  again  assisted 
at  the  Olympic  games  ; where  being  saluted  by 
the  then  honoured  name  of  Sophist,  he  mo- 
destly declined  that  distinction  for  the  humbler 
title  of  Philosopher ; and  when  asked  what  he 
precisely  meant  by  this  new  appellation,  he  is 
said  to  have  replied,  “ That,  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  at  the  Olympic  assembly,  some  men 
came  to  contend  for  crowns  and  honours,  others 
to  sell  their  merchandize,  and  a third  class 
merely  to  see  and  examine  every  thing  which 
passed  in  that  celebrated  convention ; so,  on 
the  greater  theatre  of  the  world,  while  many 
struggled  for  the  glory  of  a name,  and  many  for 
the  advantages  of  fortune,  a few,  and  but  a 
few,  neither  covetous  of  money,  nor  ambitious 
of  fame,  were  contented  with  beholding  the 
wonders  of  so  magnificent  a spectacle.”2  This 
definition  has  been  often  cited,  because  it  well 
agrees  with  the  contemplative  notions  generally 
entertained  of  the  Pythagorean  school ; but  it 
will  appear  in  the  sequel,  that  the  philosophy 
of  Pythagoras  was  of  a more  practical  kind. 

From  Olympia  and  the  republic  of  Elis,  he 
travelled  to  the  neighbouring  territory  of  Spar- 
ta,3 and  spent  a considerable  time  in  that  capi- 
tal, diligently  studying  the  laws  and  institutions 
of  Lycurgus,  and  observing  the  manners  and 
genius  of  the  best  governed,  most  virtuous,  and 
most  prosperous  of  all  the  Grecian  states.  Here 
he  beheld  a constitution  of  government  (the 
wisdom  of  which  had  been  long  approved  by 
experience)  founded  on  a system  of  education; 
and  combining,  in  his  clear  capacious  mind, 
the  Spartan  laws  and  discipline  with  a mixture 
of  the  Egyptian  craft  and  policy,  he  framed  that 
sublime  plan  of  legislation,  which  was  to  be  far 
more  extensive  than  the  laws  of  Lycurgus ; and 
which,  at  first  fixing  its  root  in  a small  sect  at 
Crotona,  was  destined,  in  twenty  or  thirty 
years,  to  diffuse  its  flourishing  branches  over 
Italy  and  Sicily. 

1 Harodotus  and  Diodorus  Siculus,  passim;  and  Strabo, 
1.  x.  p.  482. 

2 Cicero  (Tusc.  Q.ua>st.  v.  3.)  lias  translated  a passage 
to  this  purpose  from  Heraclides  Ponticus,  the  scholar  of 
Plato ; and  the  original  passage  of  Heraclitus  is  still  pre- 
served in  Jamblichus. 

3 Porphyr.  Jambl.  et  Justin.  1.  xx. 


[Chap 

Pythagoras  arrived  at  the  capital  of  Italian 
Greece  in  his  fortieth  year,  in  the  full  vigour 
of  mind  and  body.4  His  fame,  doubtless,  pre- 
ceded him ; since,  whoever  had  honourably  dis- 
tinguished himself  in  the  general  convention  at 
Olympia,  was  speedily  known  and  celebrated 
in  the  remotest  provinces  of  Greece.  His  per- 
sonal acquaintances  among  the  Italian  Greeks, 
whose  esteem,  or  rather  respect,  he  had  ac- 
quired in  that  august  assembly,  would  natu- 
rally be  loud  in  his  praises;  and  the  manners 
of  the  age,  in  which  men  lived  together  in 
crowds,  and  enjoyed  their  pastimes,  or  trans- 
acted their  serious  business  with  undisguised 
freedom,  in  temples  and  gymnasia,  contributed 
to  the  rapid  increase  of  his  friends  and  ad- 
mirers. Upon  his  arrival  at  Crotona,  he  ap- 
peared in  the  public  places  displaying  his  dex- 
terity in  those  exercises  and  accomplishments, 
which  were  the  fashionable  objects  of  pursuit, 
and  the  principal  sources  of  honour.  His  skill 
in  music  and  medicine,  sciences  which  were  far 
better  understood  in  his  native  country  than  in 
Magna  Graecia,  procured  him  particular  re- 
gard ; nor  can  we  hesitate  to  believe,  that  his 
mathematical  and  natural  knowledge  would  be 
highly  admired  by  the  Greeks  of  Italy,  who, 
having  recently  received  the  first  tincture  of 
arts  and  sciences  from  the  Asiatics,  cultivated 
them  with  that  ardour  which  novelty  inspires ; 
and  who  seem  hitherto  to  have  gained  in  point 
of  knowledge  and  civility,  in  proportion  as 
they  had  lost  in  purity  of  fife  and  manners,  by 
an  acquaintance  with  their  Eastern  brethren. 

Neither  the  voluptuousness  nor  the  refine- 
ment of  the  inhabitants  of  Magna  Grcecia,  were 
incompatible  with  the  hopes  and  fears  of  the 
most  puerile  superstition;  and  Pythagoras,  who 
had  seen  and  examined  the  rites  and  ceremo- 
nies employed  by  remote  nations,  celebrated 
for  their  antiquity  and  their  wisdom,  to  avert 
the  displeasure,  or  to  gain  the  good-will  of  their 
invisible  protectors,  called  forth  the  whole  force 
of  this  powerful,  yet  dangerous  instrument  of 
policy,  to  excite  respect  for  his  person,  and 
reverence  for  his  instructions.  He  carefully 
frequented,  at  an  early  hour,  the  temples  of  the 
gods ; his  regular  purifications  and  sacrifices 
announced  superior  sanctity  of  character;  his 
food  was  of  the  purest  hind,  that  no  corporeal 
stain  might  interrupt  his  fancied  communica- 
tion with  his  celestial  friends;  and  he  was 
clothed  in  the  linen  of  Egypt,  which  was  the 
dress5  of  the  sacerdotal  order  in  that  native 
land  of  superstition,  as  well  as  of  the  Athenian 
magistrates  and  nobles,  in  the  early  and  pious 
times  of  their  republic.6  The  respect  excited 
by  such  artifices  (if  we  may  degrade  by  that 
name  the  means  used  to  deceive  men  into  their 
duty  and  happiness)  was  enhanced  by  the  high 
renown,  the  long  travels,  the  venerable  aspect, 
the  harmonious  voice,  the  animated  and  affect- 
ing eloquence,  of  the  Samian  philosopher.  His 
hearers  sometimes  amounted  to  two  thousand 
of  the  principal  citizens  of  Crotona;  and  the 
magistrates  of  that  republic  erected,  soon  after 
his  arrival  among  them,  an  elegant  and  spa- 
cious edifice,  which  was  appropriated  to  the 

4  Aristoxen.  apud  Jambl.  5 Diodoru9. 

6 Thucyd.  1.  i. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


143 


XL] 

Virtuous  lessolis  of  this  admired  stranger,  who 
pleased  their  taste,  and  gratified  their  fancy, 
while  he  condemned  their  manners,  and  re- 
proached their  vices.  Equally  rapid  and  as- 
tonishing, and  not  more  astonishing  than  ad- 
vantageous, if  we  may  credit  the  general  voice 
of  antiquity,  was  the  reformation  produced  at 
Crotona  in  persons  of  every  age,  and  of  either 
sex,  by  this  singular  man.  The  women  laid 
aside  their  ornaments,  and  resumed  their  mo- 
desty ; the  youth  preferred  their  duty  to  their 
pleasures;  the  old  improved  their  understand- 
ing, and  almost  neglected  to  improve  their  for- 
tunes. 

Yet  this  revolution  of  manners  was  not 
surely  so  instantaneous,  as  the  concurring  ex- 
aggerations of  wonder  and  credulity  were  na- 
turally inclined  to  represent  it.  The  same 
writers,  who  would  thus  magnify  the  fame 
of  Pythagoras,  acknowledge,  that  soon  after 
coming  to  Crotona,  he  chose  a select  number 
of  his  most  assiduous  disciples,  and  those  chiefly 
persons  of  weight  in  the  republic,  whose  tem- 
per, character,  and  views,  best  suited  his  own. 
These  were  formed  into  an  association,  or 
separate  order  of  men,  into  which  none  were 
admitted  who  possessed  not  qualities  and  en- 
dowments worthy  of  that  honour.  In  order  to 
confirm  this  association,  as  well  as  to  obtain 
the  purposes  for  which  it  had  been  instituted, 
Pythagoras  employed  the  cypher,  or  symbolic 
writing,  and  other  secrets,  which  he  had  learned 
from  the  wisdom,  or  rather  cunning,  of  the 
Egyptian  priests:  his  scholars  were  taught 
certain  signs  or  words,  by  which  they  might 
know  each  other ; they  could  correspond,  when 
separated  by  place,  in  an  unknown  character; 
and  strangers  of  all  countries,  Greeks  and  Bar- 
barians, were  promiscuously  admitted  into  the 
society,  after  undergoing  a due  probation  as  to 
their  dispositions  and  understanding.  In  a few 
years,  three  hundred  men,  all  Pythagoreans, 
held  the  sovereignty  of  Crotona ; the  influence 
of  the  new  sect  extended  with  rapidity  over 
Locri,  Rhegium,  Catana,  and  other  cities  of 
q,  Italy  and  Sicily ; the  disciples  of 

lvii  3^"  Pythagoras  were  diffused  over  an- 
A C 550  c*en^  Greece,  and  the  isles  of  the 
° ' iEgean  sea ; and  it  seemed  as  if  the 
sage  of  Samos,  whose  nobler  ambition  declined 
and  disdained  any  particular  office  of  power 
and  dignity,  had  conceived  the  sublime  idea 
of  forming  a school,  or  rather  an  association 
of  men,  who  might  govern  the  world,  while 
they  were  themselves  governed  by  wisdom  and 
virtue. 

Pythagoras  was  deeply  persuaded,  that  the 
happiness  of  nations  depends  chiefly  on  the 
government  under  which  they  live;  and  the 
experience  of  his  own  times,  and  of  his  own 
island  in  particular,  might  teach  him  the  dan- 
gerous tendency  of  democratic  turbulence  on 
the  one  hand,  and  jealous  tyranny  on  the 
other.7  He  preferred,  therefore,  to  all  govern- 


7 A striking  example  of  this  appeared  at  that  time  in  Si- 
cily, if  we  credit  Jamblicus,  who  places  the  reign  of  Pha- 
iaris,  at  Agrigentum,  in  the  age  of  Pythagoras.  The  doubt- 
ful, or  rather  incredible,  history  of  this  tyrant,  may  be  com- 
prised in  few  words.  Ilis  reign,  of  about  sixteen  years, 
was  distinguished  by  intolerable  atrocities.  lie  burned  his 
enemies  in  a brazen  bull ; and,  as  lust  or  cruelty  happened 


ments,  a moderate  aristocracy;  which  seems, 
without  exception,  to  have  been  the  well- 
founded  opinion  of  the  greatest  men  of  anti- 
quity, since,  under  the  administration  of  a 
senate,  the  republics  of  Greece,  of  Rome,  and 
of  Carthage,  attained  their  highest  prosperity 
and  splendour.  Yet  he  was  extremely  averse 
to  arbitrary  power,  whatever  shape  it  might 
assume : and  the  main  aim  of  his  institution 
was,  to  prevent  oppression  in  the  magistrates 
and  licentiousness  in  the  people.  The  dead 
letter  of  the  law  could  never,  he  thought,  effect 
that  salutary  purpose,  until  men  were  so  trained 
by  education  and  discipline,  as  to  regard  the 
great  duties  of  life  as  its  most  agreeable  amuse- 
ment, and  to  consider  the  esteem  of  their  fel- 
low-citizens, and  their  own,  as  the  chief  source 
of  their  enjoyment.  Magistrates,  thus  formed, 
would  command  a willing  obedience,  and  the 
inhabitants  of  Magna  Gracia  must  soon  attain 
the  most  perfect  state  of  which  political  society 
is  susceptible. 

To  explain  at  large  the  system  of  Pythago- 
ras, would  be  to  write  a treatise  of  sublime,  yet 
practical  morality,  since  his  conclusions  are 
strictly  founded  on  the  nature  of  man.  Be- 
sides the  propensities  common  to  us  with  infe- 
rior natures,  and  besides  the  selfish  and  arti- 
ficial passions  of  avarice  and  ambition,  he 
found  in  the  human  breast  the  seeds  of  nobler 
faculties,  fitted  to  yield  an  incomparably  more 
durable,  more  perfect,  and  more  certain  grati- 
fication. The  chief  happiness  of  the  mind 


to  direct,  sometimes  abused,  and  sometimes  eat,  boys.  Pha- 
laris,  together  with  his  mother  and  friends,  (could  such  a 
monster  have  friends  7)  were  burned,  by  the  long-injured 
Agrigentines,  in  his  own  bull.  This  is  the  abominable  ty- 
rant, whose  spurious  letters  furnished  an  opportunity  to  Dr. 
Bentley  to  display  his  profound  erudition  (see  his  Dissert, 
upon  Phalaris.)  But  that  very  learned  man  seems  not  to 
suspect,  that  the  history  of  Phalaris  is  as  spurious  as  his 
epistles.  It  was  a common  artifice  among  Greek  poets 
and  orators  (see  p.  100.  speech  of  Sosicles  the  Corinthian,) 
to  exaggerate  the  vices  of  bad  princes.  Of  this  we  shall 
find  many  examples  in  the  following  parts  of  this  work. 
This  practice  began  early ; for  Pindar  says, 

Tot/  £g  TMUfCO  %X\Xt(a  XXVTVIfIX  VV\XtX  voov 
QxXxgiv  xxrt%ti  7rcevTct  CpxTig. 

PYTH.  i.  Eira/J.  Xa>\.  It. 

Aristotle  mentions,  To  jrsgi  QxXxgtv  xiyopsvov,  the  hearsay 
about  Phalaris,  which  Aspasius  explains,  ‘O  Ss  <5>xXxei? 
Xeysrxi  tpxytiv  rov  saurou  7rxiSu.  Phalaris  is  said  to 
have  eat  his  own  son.  In  the  same  chapter  (c.  v.  1.  vi. 
Ethic.  Nicom.)  speaking  of  brutal  passions,  Aristotle  in- 
stances Phalaris  sometimes  devouring  boys,  sometimes  using 
them  as  instruments  of  an  absurd  venereal  pleasure:  “IIpos 
x<ppo8i<riov  aT07rov  oJot/s)!/.”  The  philosopher  does  not  say, 
that  he  believes  these  monstrous  fictions,  any  more  than 
Cicero,  “Illo  nobilis  taurus,  quern  crudelissimus  omnium 
tyrannorum  Phalaris  habuisse  dicitur 1.  iv.  in  Verrem,  c. 
xxxiii.  Timaeus,  the  historian  of  Sicily,  who  was  more 
likely  than  any  other  writer  to  be  well  informed  concerning 
the  transactions  in  his  own  island,  represents  the  story  of 
Phalaris’s  bull  as  a mere  fable.  Polyb.  Excerp.  ver.  3.  p.  47. 
Polybius,  indeed,  attempts  to  refute  Tirmeus,  but  I think, 
as  to  the  main  point,  with  little  success.  Nor  is  it  surpris- 
ing that  this  judicious  writer  should  be  carried  along  by 
the  torrent.  The  republicans  of  Greeco  and  Rome  delight- 
ed in  blackening  the  characters  of  tyrants;  TexyoSowTeg 

8s  XV[V  W/U.0TVTX  TMV  TffOTT'JlV,  XXI  T»!/  XOsgtlXV  TMV  7T  ( X- 

Istvv;  “exaggerating,  after  the  manner  of  tragedians,  tho 
fierceness  of  1 heir  manners,  and  the  impiety  of  their  ac- 
tions.” For  this  reason,  the  absurd  fictions  concerning  Dio- 
nysius of  Syracuse,  Alexander  of  Pherse,  &c.  are  related 
by  many  respcclablo  writers.  For  this  reason  Hieronymus 
was  described  in  the  blackest  colours,  vido  Excerp.  ex 
Polyb.  1.  vii.  p.  10.  And  for  this  reason  tho  enormous  cru- 
elties of  Phalaris,  which  no  nation,  and  far  less  tho  Sici- 
lians in  that  age,  could  have  tolerated,  receive  countenance 
from  some  of  the  highest  authorities  of  antiquity. 


144 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


must  be  sought  in  itself,  in  the  enjoyment  of 
intellectual  and  moral  pleasure.  Our  thoughts 
are  ever,  and  intimately  present  with  us  ; and 
although  the  bustle  of  external  objects,  and  the 
tumult  of  passion,  may  sometimes  divert  their 
current,  they  can  never  dry  up  their  source. 
The  reflections  on  our  own  conduct  will  be 
continually  occurring  to  our  fancy,  whatever 
pains  we  may  take  to  exclude  them ; nor  can 
voluptuous  enjoyment,  or  ambitious  activity, 
ever  so  totally  occupy  the  mind  of  a Persian 
satrap,  or  a Grecian  demagogue,  but  that  their 
principal  happiness  or  misery,  in  the  whole 
course  of  life,  must  chiefly  depend  upon  the 
nature  of  their  reflections  on  the  past,  and 
upon  their  hopes  and  fears  about  futurity.  To 
strengthen  this  great  groundwork  of  morality, 
Pythagoras  employed  the  whole  force  of  edu- 
cation and  habit.  Rules  were  laid  down,  to 
which  the  members  of  his  respected  order 
bound  themselves  to  conform,  and  from  which 
none  could  swerve,  without  being  excluded  from 
a society  of  w7hich  they  proved  themselves  un- 
worthy. The  different  periods  of  life  had  each 
its  appropriated  employment.  The  youth  were 
carefully  instructed  in  the  gymnastic  exercises, 
in  literature,1  and  in  science,  and  especially  in 
the  laws  and  constitution  of  their  country. 
Their  time  was  so  diversified  by  successive 
study,  exercise,  and  repose,  that  no  leisure  re- 
mained for  the  premature  growth  of  dangerous 
passions  ; and  it  was  an  important  maxim  of 
the  Pythagorean  school,  that  many  things  were 
best  learned  late,2  especially  love  ; from  which, 
if  possible,  the  youth  should  be  restrained  till 
their  twentieth  year,  and  after  that  period 
should  rarely,  and  with  many  precautions,  in- 
dulge a passion,  always  hurtful  to  the  weak, 
and  which,  when  injudiciously  indulged,  en- 
feebled the  most  vigorous.  He  required  in 
those  who  had  attained  the  age  of  manhood, 
that  they  should  no  longer  live  for  themselves, 
but  for  the  business  of  the  community  of  which 
they  were  members.  They  were  to  employ 
the  greatest  part  of  the  day  in  the  duties  of 
public  spirit  and  patriotism  ; in  the  laborious 
or  dangerous  offices  committed  to  their  charge  ; 
and  to  derive  their  chief  reward  from  reading, 
in  the  eyes  of  their  admiring  countrymen,  the 
history  of  their  generous  exploits and  from 
beholding  the  happy  effects  of  their  probity, 
beneficence,  and  fortitude. 

The  Pythagoreans  were  strictly  enjoined,  as 
their  earliest  and  latest  work,  to  review  the  ac- 
tions of  the  past,  and,  if  time  permitted,  of 
many  preceding,  days.  In  the  morning  they 

1 So  I have  translated  Ev  y^x^fixtri  xxi  to«;  xwoig 
fixStfixa-i,  of  Aristoxenus  apud  Stobaeum,  Serm.  xli.  The 
learned  reader  will  perceive,  that  I comprehend  under  the 
name  of  youth,  the  two  different  periods  of  life,  or 
which  the  Greeks  denoted  by  the  words  nxi 5 and  vixvio-x, 
boy,  and  young  man.  I have  done  this,  because  it  was  not 
the  intention  of  Aristoxenus  to  say,  that  the  young  men 
were  not  still  to  be  employed  in  literature  and  science,  or 
that  the  boys  were  to  be  kept  ignorant  of  tho  laws  and  con- 
stitution. The  rules  of  the  Pythagorean  school,  and  the 
laws  of  Lycurgus,  often  explain  each  other.  See  p.  41,  et 
seqq.  It  may  be  worthy  of  remark,  that  Jean  Jacques 
Rousseau  has  borrowed  what  is  rational  and  practical  in 
his  system  of  education,  from  these  two  great  sources. 

2 Aristoxen.  apud  Stobteum,  Serm.  lxix.  This  is  the 

great  principle  of  Rousseau  in  his  Emile.  The  passage  of 

Aristoxenus  concerning  love,  is  almost  literally  translated  in 

that  ingenious  but  fanciful  work. 


[Chap. 

repaired  alone  to  the  temples,  to  solitary  moan 
tains  and  forests;  and  after  there  conversing 
with  themselves,  joined  in  the  conversation  of 
their  friends,  with  whom  they  assembled,  in 
small  companies,  to  an  early  and  frugal  meal, 
discussed  different  subjects  of  philosophy  or 
politics,  regulated  their  conduct  for  the  ensu- 
ing day,  and  by  the  mutual  strength  and  en- 
couragement acquired  in  this  select  society, 
prepared  for  the  tumultuous  bustle  of  the 
world,  and  the  contentions  of  active  life.  The 
evening  was  spent  as  the  morning,  with  this 
difference,  that  they  then  indulged  in  the  mo- 
derate use  of  flesh  and  wine,  from  which  they 
rigidly  abstained  during  the  day;  and  the 
whole  concluded  w7ith  that  self-examination, 
which  was  the  capital  precept  of  the  Pytha- 
gorean school. 

To  enter  more  fully  into  the  principles  of 
this  association,  would  be  repeating  w hat  has 
been  formerly  observed  concerning  the  law's  of 
Lycurgus.  It  is  sufficient  barely  to  mention, 
that,  like  the  legislator  of  Sparta,  Pythagoras 
enjoined  the  highest  respect  for  age  ; that,  like 
him,  he  raised  the  weaker  sex  from  that  state 
of  inferiority  in  which  they  were  ungenerously 
kept  in  all  other  countries  of  Greece  ; that  he 
inured  his  disciples  to  temperance  and  sobriety 
by  the  same  means  employed  by  Lycurgus  ; 
and  that  both  these  great  men  regarded  health 
and  vigour  of  body  as  the  first  principle  of 
mental  soundness  and  energy ; that  the  proba- 
tionary silence  of  the  Pythagoreans,  which  cre- 
dulity has  so  much  exaggerated,  was  nothing 
more  than  that  prudent,  recollected  behaviour, 
required  by  Lycurgus,  who  prized  higher  the 
caution  of  silence  than  the  readiness  of  speech  ;3 
and  that  the  intimacy  of  the  Spartan  and  Py- 
thagorean friendships,  and  almost  the  commu- 
nity of  goods,  naturally  flowed  from  the  ge- 
neral spirit  and  genius  of  their  respective  sys- 
tems ;4  so  that  the  rules  of  the  Pythagorean 
order  were  little  more  than  a transcript  of  the 
Spartan  laws,  as  these  laws  themselves  wer^ 
only  a refinement  on  the  generous  and  manly 
institutions  of  the  heroic  ages. 5 ’ 

In  the  history  of  a man  who  entertained  such 
just  notions  of  human  life,  as  did  the  founder 
of  the  Pythagorean  school,  we  may  at  once 
reject,  as  fabulous,  the  tales  related  by  the  vain, 
lying  Greeks,  who  lived  in  and  after  the  age 
of  Alexander,  when  their  nation  seems  to  have 
lost  their  love  of  truth  along  with  their  liberty, 
as  well  as  the  ridiculous  wonders  of  the  later 
Platonists,  those  contemplative  visionaries, 
W'ho,  during  the  first  centuries  of  the  Chris- 
tian era,  degraded  ancient  philosophers,  by 
describing  their  active  and  useful  lives,  as 
if  they  had  resembled  their  own  speculative 
tranquillity.  Yet,  after  all,  should  the  least 
extraordinary  account  of  the  Pythagorean 
order  still  seem  incredible,  it  need  only  be  ob- 
served, that  modern  history,  and  even  our  own 
observation,  may  have  made  us  acquainted 
with  orders  of  another  kind,  of  which  the  rules 
are  more  difficult  to  be  observed  than  those  of 
the  Pythagoreans  : and  it  is  equally  unreason- 
able and  ungenerous  to  suppose,  that  what  our 

3 Plat,  in  Lycurg.  4 See  p.  43. 

5 Diodor.  1.  xii.  p.  77,  &c. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


145 


XI.] 

own  experience  teaches  us  may  be  done  by  the 
illiberal  spirit  of  superstition,  could  not,  in  a 
happier  age,  be  effected  by  the  love  of  glory, 
of  virtue,  and  of  mankind. 

The  concurring  testimony  of  historians  as- 
sures us,  that  the  school  of  Pythagoras  had 
flourished  above  forty  years,  to  the  unspeaka- 
ble benefit  of  Magna  Grsecia,  when  a war  arose 
between  Crotona  and  Sybaris,  the  latter  of 
which  had  ever  contemptuously  rejected  the 
Pythagorean  institutions.  The  city  of  Sybaris 
Was  founded  (as  above  mentioned)  by  the 
Achaeans,  on  the  confluence  of  the  river  Sy- 
baris, from  which  the  city  derives  its  name, 
and  the  winding  stream  of  Crathis,  which  de- 
scends from  the  Lucanian  mountains.  The 
fertility  of  the  soil,  the  happy  temperature  of 
the  climate,  the  resources  of  fishing,  naviga- 
tion, manufactures,  and  commerce,  conspired, 
with  the  salutary  effect  of  the  Achaean  laws, 
wonderfully  to  increase,  in  the  course  of  two 
centuries,  the  strength  and  populousness  of 
Sybaris,  which  was  surrounded  by  walls  nine 
miles  in  extent,  commanded  twenty-five  subor- 
dinate cities,  and,  could  we  credit  the  evidence 
of  writers  often  prone  to  exaggeration,  brought 
three  hundred  thousand  men  into  the  field.6 
Riches  and  luxury  proved  fatal  to  the  Syba- 
rites, whose  effeminacy  passed  into  a pro- 
verb,7 which  has  been  transmitted  to  modern 
times.  In  a decisive  battle,  they 
lxvii  4 were  defeated  by  the  citizens  of 
A r Crotona,  under  the  command  of 

Milo,  a favourite  disciple  of  Py- 
thagoras, who  had  already  obtained  universal 
renown  <by  his  Olympic  victories.8 

But  the  destruction  of  Sybaris  was  almost 
alike  fatal  to  Crotona.  The  inferior  ranks  of 
men  in  that  city,  intoxicated  with  prosperity, 
and  instigated  by  the  artful  and  ambitious 
Cylon,  whose  turbulent  manners  had  excluded 
him  from  the  order  of  Pythagoras,  into  which 
he  had  repeatedly  attempted  to  enter,  became 
clamorous  for  an  equal  partition  of  the  con- 
quered territory  of  Sybaris ; which  being  de- 
nied, as  inconsistent  with  the  nature  of  aristo- 
cratical  government,  they  secretly  conspired 
against  their  magistrates,  attacked  them  by  sur- 
prise in  the  senate-house,  put  many  to  death, 
and  drove  the  rest  from  their  country.  Pytha- 
goras himself  died  soon  afterwards,  in  extreme 
old  age,  at  Metapontum  in  Lucania.9  His  dis- 
ciples were  scattered  over  Magna  Groecia,  and 
particularly  Sicily,  which  at  the  time  of  the 
Carthaginian  invasion,  was  governed  by  men 
who  had  imbibed  the  sublime  spirit  of  their 
illustrious  master. 

OlvmD  Gelon,  who,  eleven  years  before 

lxxv  1 ^at  even^  had  mounted  the  throne 
A C 480  ®yracusei  was  entitled,  by  the 
unanimous  suffrage  of  his  subjects, 
to  the  glorious,  though  often  prostituted,  ap- 
pellation, of  Father  of  his  Country.19  The  mild- 
ness of  his  government  restored  the  felicity  of 
the  heroic  ages,  whose  equitable  institutions 


6 Strabo,  1.  vi.  p.  263.  Diodor.  ibid. 

7 Athenueus,  1.  xii.  p.  518. 

8 Strabo,  ibid.  Pausanias,  1.  v.  p.  369. 

9 Aristoxonus. 

10  A21ian.  Var.  Hist.  I.  xiii.  c.  xxxvii.  Plut.  in  Timol. 

T 


had  much  affinity  (as  above  observed)  with  the 
political  system  of  Pythagoras.  This  virtuous 
prince  had  cemented  an  alliance  with  Theron, 
king  of  Agrigentum,  by  accepting  his  daughter 
in  marriage  ; and  the  confederacy  of  the  two 
principal  states  of  Sicily  seemed  to  have 
diffused  security  and  happiness  over  the 
whole  island,  when  the  immense  armament  of 
Carthage  was  beheld  off  the  northern  coast. 
Though  not  absolutely  destitute  of  naval 
strength,  the  Sicilians  had  nothing  by  which 
they  could  oppose  a fleet  of  two  thousand  gal- 
leys. The  enemy  landed  without  opposition 
in  the  spacious  harbour,  or  rather  bay,  of  Pa- 
normus,  whose  name  may  be  still  recognised  in 
the  modern  capital  Palermo,  where  the  Car- 
thaginians had  planted  one  of  their  most  an- 
cient colonies.  Their  forces  were  commanded 
by  Hamilcar,  who  was  deemed  a brave  and 
experienced  leader.  The  first  care  of  this 
general  was,  to  fortify  two  camps ; the  one 
destined  for  his  fleet,  which,  according  to  the 
practice  of  that  age,  was  drawn  on  shore ; the 
other  intended  as  a safe  retreat  for  his  army, 
which  immediately  prepared  to  form  the  siege 
of  Himera,  Theron  used  proper  measures  to 
defend  the  second  city  in  his  dominions,  until 
his  kinsman,  the  intrepid  Gelon,  should  arrive 
to  his  assistance,  at  the  head  of  an  army  of 
fifty  thousand  foot  and  five  thousand  horse. 
While  this  numerous  army  advanced,  by  rapid 
marches,  towards  Himera,  they  rencountered  a 
foraging  party  of  the  enemy,  and  took  ten 
thousand  prisoners.  But  what  appeared  a still 
more  important  booty  to  the  discernment  of 
Gelon,  they  seized  a messenger  from  Seli- 
nus,  a city  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Agrigen- 
tum, which  had  entered  into  a treacherous 
correspondence  with  the  Carthaginians.  The 
prisoner  conveyed  a letter  to  Hamilcar,  ac- 
quainting him,  that  the  Selinuntines  would  not 
fail  to  send  the  cavalry  demanded  from  them 
at  the  appointed  time,  which  was  likewise  par- 
ticularly specified.  Upon  this  discovery,  Gelon 
founded  a stratagem,  not  more  daring  than 
successful.  He  commanded  a chosen  body  of 
troops  to  advance  in  the  night  towards  the  Car- 
thaginian camp,  and  by  day-break  to  present 
themselves  to  Hamilcar,  as  his  Selinuntine 
auxiliaries ; and  when  admitted,  by  this  arti- 
fice, within  the  rampart,  to  assassinate  the  ge- 
neral, and  set  fire  to  the  fleet.11 

It  happened  on  the  fatal  day,  that  Hamilcar 
offered  a solemn  sacrifice  to  the  bloody  divinity 
of  Carthage,  who  delighted  in  human  victims. 
While  he  performed  this  abominable  rite,  the 
soldiers  surrounded  him  unarmed,  in  the 
gloomy  silence  of  their  detested  superstition, 
with  which  their  minds  were  totally  penetrated. 
The  Sicilian  cavalry  being  admitted  without 
suspicion,  thus  found  no  difficulty  to  execute 
their  audacious  design.  Hamilcar,  while  he 
sacrificed  an  innocent  and  noble  youth  to  the 
abhorred  genius  of  Superstition,  was  himself 
despatched  with  a dagger ; and  next  moment 
the  Carthaginian  ships  were  in  a blaze.  A 
chain  of  Sicilian  sentinels,  posted  on  the  neigh- 
bouring eminences,  intimated  to  Gelon  the 


11  Diodor.  ! ix.  sect.  25,  et  seqq.  Polysn.  1.  i.  c.  xxvii. 


146 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


happy  success  of  his  stratagem  ; of  which,  in 
order  fully  to  avail  himself,  that  gallant  com- 
mander immediately  conducted  the  main  body 
of  his  troops  to  the  Carthaginian  army,  while 
it  was  yet  agitated  by  surprise  and  terror  at 
the  sudden  conflagration.  The  furious  onset 
of  the  Sicilians  made  a dreadful  havoc  among 
the  astonished  Barbarians,  who,  recovering, 
however,  their  faculties,  began  to  defend  them- 
selve%  with  vigour ; when  the  melancholy 
tidings,  that  their  ships  were  all  burnt,  and 
their  general  slain,  drove  them  to  despair  and 
flight.  Gelon  commanded  his  troops  not  to 
give  quarter  to  an  enemy,  who,  though  defeat- 
ed, still  seemed  formidable  by  their  numbers. 
It  is  reported,  that  a hundred  and  fifty  thou- 
sand perished  in  the  battle  and  the  pursuit. 
The  remainder  seized  an  eminence,  where  they 
could  not  long  maintain  themselves,  for  want 
of  water  and  provisions.  In  the  language  of 
an  ancient  historian,  all  Africa  seemed  to  be 
taken  captive  in  Sicily.  Gelon  distributed  the 
prisoners  among  the  Sicilian  cities,  in  propor- 
tion to  the  contingents  of  troops  which  they 
had  respectively  raised  for  this  memorable  ser- 
vice. The  greater,part  falling  to  the  share  of 
Syracuse  and  Agrigentum,  were  employed  in 
beautifying  and  enlarging  those  capitals,1 
whose  magnificent  monuments,  still  conspicu- 
ous in  their  ruins,  are  supposed  with  great 
probability,  to  be  the  effect  of  Carthaginian 
labour. 

The  melancholy  tidings  affected  Carthage 
with  consternation  and  despair.  The  inhabit- 
ants of  that  city,  ever  shamefully  depressed 
by  bad  fortune,  in  proportion  as  they  were  im- 
moderately elated  by  the  deceitful  gifts  of 
prosperity,  dreaded  every  moment  to  behold 
the  victorious  enemy  in  their  harbour.  To 
ward  off  this  calamity,  their  ambassadors  were 
sent  to  crave  a suspension  of  hostilities  on  any 
terms  the  victorious  Greeks  might  think  proper 
to  impose.  Gelon  received  them  with  such 
moderation  as  marked  the  superiority  of  his 
character,  and  told  them,  that  he  would  desist 
from  every  purpose  of  revenge,  on  condition 
that  the  Carthaginians  paid  two  thousand 
talents  of  silver,  to  be  distributed  among  the 
cities  of  Sicily,  which  had  incurred  trouble  and 
expense  by  the  war ; that  they  thenceforth  ab- 
stained from  the  abominable  practice  of  insult- 
ing the  gods  by  human  victims;  that  they 
erected  two  temples,  one  in  Carthage,  another 
in  Syracuse,  to  preserve  the  memory  of  the 
war,  and  the  articles  of  the  peace.2 

This  honourable  .treaty  was  a 
, ^ ..P*  prelude  to  that  still  more  famous, 
A C *449  conc^u^e(^  thirty  years  afterwards 

* ' ' between  the  Athenians  and  the 

Persians.  It  marked  a nation  superior  to  its 
enemies  not  only  in  valour  but  humanity,  and 
conferred  more  true  glory  than  could  be  ac- 
quired by  the  most  splendid  series  of  victories. 


[Chap. 

It  might  be  expected,  however,  and  seems  much 
to  have  been  desired,  that  a people  so  advan- 
tageously distinguished  as  were  the  Greeks 
during  that  age  in  arts  and  arms ; a people 
A C 504  W^°  ka<*  repelled,  defeated,  and 
disgraced  the  most  populous  and 
powerful  nations,  and  who  were  alike  prompted, 
by  ambition  and  revenge,  to  the  attainment  of 
distant  conquest,  should  have  united  their 
efforts  against  the  enemies  who  still  made  war 
on  them,  and,  advancing  in  a rapid  career  of 
victory,  have  diffused,  along  with  their  domi- 
nion, their  manners,  knowledge,  and  civility, 
over  the  eastern  world.  But  various  events 
and  causes,  which  we  shall  have  occasion  after- 
wards to  explain,  tended  to  detach  the  colonies 
of  Magna  Graecia  from  the  affairs  of  the  mo- 
ther country,  as  well  as  to  disunite  the  two 
most  powerful  republics  of  that  country  by  in- 
testine discord. 

While  the  fortune  of  Athens  raised  her  to 
such  power  as  threatened  the  liberty  of  Sicily 
and  Greece,  the  kings  of  Syracuse  and  Agri- 
gentum contented  themselves  with  the  humbler 
glory  of  embellishing  their  capitals  with  bar- 
baric spoils,  and  producing  those  wonders  of 
art,  which,  in  the  time  of  Cicero  and  Verres, 
were  esteemed  among  the  most  precious  monu- 
ments of  antiquity.3  The  golden  medals  of 
Gelon,  still  preserved  and  of  the  highest 
beauty,4  justify  the  glowing  expressions  of 
the  Roman  orator. 

In  Italy,  the  citizens  of  Crotona  had  too 
soon  cause  to  lament  their  insurrection  against 
their  magistrates,  and  their  forsaking  the  disci- 
pline of  Pythagoras.  They  who  had  hitherto 
defeated  superior  numbers,  who  had  furnished 
so  many  victors  in  the  Olympic  contest,  and 
whose  country  was  distinguished  by  the  epi- 
thet of  healthy,  on  a supposition  that  the  vigor- 
ous bodies  of  its  inhabitants  proceeded  from 
an  effect  of  the  climate,  were  now  totally  rout- 
ed and  put  to  flight  at  the  river  Sagra,  with  an 
army  of  a hundred  and  thirty  thousand  men, 
by  the  Locrians  and  Rhegians,  whose  forces 
were  far  less  numerous.  The  other  Greek 
cities  of  Italy,  which  are  said  to  have  imitated 
the  fatal  example  of  Crotona,  were  harassed 
by  wars  against  each  other,  or  against  their 
barbarous  neighbours.  In  consequence  of 
these  misfortunes,  the  Pythagoreans  again  re- 
covered their  credit ; and  about  sixty  years 
after  the  death  of  the  great  founder  of  their 
order,  Zaleucus  and  Charondas,  the  first  in 
Locri,  the  second  in  Thurium,  endeavoured  to 
revive  the  Pythagorean  institutions,  which, 
perhaps,  were  too  perfect  for  the  condition  of 
the  times.  In  less  than  forty  years,  a new  per- 
secution entirely  drove  the  Pythagoreans  from 
Italy,  and  completed,  according  to  Polybius, 
the  confusion  and  misery  of  that  once  happy 
country.5 


1 Cicero,  Orat.  iv.  in  Verrem. 

2 Diodor.  Sicul.  ibid. 


3 Cicero  in  Verrem,  passim. 

4 Mem.  de  Trevoux,  I’ann.  1727,  p.  1449. 

5 Polybius,  i.  203. 


XII.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


147 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Glory  of  Athens — Military  Success  of  the  Confederates — Athens  Rebuilt  and  Fortified — Extent 
of  its  Walls  and  Harbours — The  Confederates  take  Byzantium — Conspiracy  of  Pausanias — 
Banishment  of  Themistocles — Virtue  of  Aristides — Cimon  assumes  the  Command — His  illus- 
trious Merit  and  Success — Revolt  of  Egypt — War  in  Cyprus — Peace  with  Persia — Domestic 
Transactions  of  Greece — The  Athenian  Greatness — Envy  of  Sparta , Thebes , and  Argos — - 
Earthquake  in  Sparta — Revolt  of  the  Helots — War  between  the  Eliansand  Pisans — The  Tem- 
ple and  Statue  of  Olympian  Jupiter — Dissensions  in  Argolis — Revolt  in  Bceolia — Truce  of 
Thirty  Years — Character  of  Pericles — Subjection  of  the  Athenian  Allies  and  Colonies — Spirit 
of  the  Athenian  Government . 


Jj^ROM  the  battles  of  Mycale  and  Platsea,  to 
the  memorable  war  of  Peloponnesus,  elapsed 
half  a century,  the  most  illustrious  in  the  Gre- 
A C 479  c*an  anna^s*  A Slngle  republic,  one 
‘ * 1 of  sixteen  states,  whose  united  pos- 
sessions hardly  equalled  the  extent 
of  Scotland,  and  whose  particular  territory  is 
scarcely  visible  in  a map  of  the  world,  carried 
on  an  offensive  war  against  the  Persian  em- 
pire, and,  though  surrounded  by  jealous  allies 
or  open  enemies,  prosecuted  this  extraordinary 
enterprise  with  unexampled  success ; at  length, 
granting  such  conditions  of  peace  as  the  pride 
of  victory  may  dictate,  and  the  weight  of  ac- 
cumulated disasters  condescended  to  solicit  or 
accept.  In  that  narrow  space  of  time  the  same 
republic  erected,  on  the  feeble  basis  of  her 
scanty  population  and  diminutive  territory,  a 
mighty  mass  of  empire ; established  and  con- 
firmed her  authority  over  the  extent  of  a thou- 
sand miles  of  the  Asiatic  coast,  from  Cyprus  to 
the  Thracian  Bosphorus ; took  possession  of 
forty  intermediate  islands,* * * * 6  together  with  the 
important  straits  which  join  the  Euxine  and  the 
iEgean  ; conquered  and  colonized  the  winding 
shores  of  Macedon  and  Thrace ; commanded 
the  coast  of  the  Euxine  from  Pontus  to  the 
Chersonesus  Taurica,  or  Crim  Tartary  ; and, 
overawing  the  barbarous  natives  by  the  expe- 
rienced terrors  of  her  fleet,7  protected  against 
their  injustice  and  violence,  but  at  the  same 
time  converted,  to  the  purposes  of  her  own  am- 
bition and  interest,  the  numerous  but  scattered 
colonies  which  Miletus,  and  other  Greek  cities 
of  Asia,  had  at  various  times  established  in 
those  remote  regions.8  Our  wonder  will  be 
justly  increased,  if  we  consider  that  Athens  ob- 
tained those  immortal  trophies,  not  over  igno- 
rant savages  or  effeminate  slaves,  but  over  men 
who  had  the  same  language  and  laws,  the  same 
blood  and  lineage,  the  same  arts  and  arms,  in 
short,  every  thing  common  with  the  victors  but 
their  audacity  and  fortune. 

But  it  is  the  peculiar  glory  of  the  Athenians 
that,  during  this  rapid  series  of  military  and 
naval  triumphs,  they  cultivated,  with  a gene- 
rous enthusiasm,  the  arts  which  adorn  peace 
as  well  as  war,  and  improved  these  decorations 
of  polished  life  into  such  perfection  as  few  na- 


G  Several  of  these  islands  had  been  formerly  conquered 

by  Athenian  commanders,  particularly  Miltiados;  as  we 

have  related  above;  but  having  rebelled  against  the  severe 

government  of  Athens,  they  were  finally  subdued  by  I’eri- 

eles. 

7 Plut.  in  Pericle. 

8 Strabo,  Geograph,  passim. 


tions  have  been  able  to  imitate,  and  none  have 
found  it  possible  to  surpass.  During  the  ad 
ministration  of  a single  man,  more  works  of 
elegance  and  splendour,  more  magnificent  tem- 
ples, theatres,  and  porticoes  were  erected  within 
the  walls  of  Athens,  than  could  be  raised  during 
many  centuries  in  Rome,  though  mistress  of  the 
world,  by  the  wealth  and  labour  of  tributary 
provinces.6  In  the  same  period  of  time  sculp- 
ture attained  a sublimity,  from  which  that 
noble  art  could  never  afterwards  but  descend 
and  degenerate;  and  a republic  hitherto  infe- 
rior in  works  of  invention  ar^d  genius  to  several 
of  her  neighbours,  and  even  of  her  own  colo 
nies,  produced,  in  the  single  lifetime  of  Pericles, 
those  inestimable  models  of  poetry,  eloquence 
and  philosophy,16  which,  in  every  succeeding 
age,  the  enlightened  portion  of  mankind  hath 
invariably  regarded  as  the  best  standards,  not 
merely  of  composition  and  style,  but  of  taste 
and  reason.  The  name  of  Greek  seemed 
thenceforth  to  be  sunk  in  that  of  Athenian; 
Athenian  writers  ar6  our  surest  and  almost 
only  guides  in  relating  the  subsequent  transac- 
tions of  the  whole  nation;11  and  from  them  we 
learn  what  is  yet  the  most  extraordinary  cir- 
cumstance respecting  the  Athenian  empire, 
that  it  had  been  built  on  such  stable  founda- 
tions, and  reared  with  such  art  and  skill,  as 
might  have  long  defied  the  hostile  jealousy 
of  Greece  and  Persia,  confederate  in  arms  and 
resentment,  if  various  causes,  which  human 
prudence  could  neither  foresee  nor  prevent, 
had  not  shaken  its  firmness,  and  precipitated 
its  downfall.12 

Such  is  the  subject  which  I have  undertaken 
to  treat  in  this  and  the  two  following  chapters; 
a subject  worthy  to  animate  the  diligence,  and 
call  forth  the  vigour  of  a historian:  but,  if  he 
truly  deserves  that  respected  name,  he  will  re- 
member that  it  is  less  his  duty  to  amuse  the 
fancy  by  general  description,  than  to  explain, 
with  precision  and  perspicuity,  the  various 
transactions  of  this  interesting  and  splendid 
theme;  to  give  the  reader  a full  and  distinct 
view  of  the  complicated  matter  which  it  in- 
volves; and  to  remove  every  adventitious  cir- 
cumstance that  might  distract  or  dazzle  the 


0 Plutarch,  in  Pericle. 

10  Pericles  may  be  considered  as  the  contemporary  of 
Soerut.es,  Sophocles,  Euripides,  Thucydides,  &c.  since, 
although  In;  died  before  them  of  the  plague,  these  and  other 
great  men  flourished  during  his  administration. 

1 1 F mean  Thucydides  and  Xenophon,  together  with  the 
Athenian  orators,  philosophers,  and  poets. 

JSThncydid.  I.  vii.  et  viii.  passim. 


148 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


attention,  as  astronomers,  in  viewing  the  sun, 
are  careful  to  ward  off  its  surrounding  splen- 
dour. 

The  military  success  of  the  Athenians' 
(which  naturally  forms  the  first  branch  of  the 
subject,  because  it  not  only  supplied  the  mate- 
rials of  future  improvements,  but  awakened 
that  energy  requisite  to  cultivate  and  complete 
them)  includes  three  separate  actions  which 
were  carried  on  at  the  same  time,  and  conspired 
to  the  same  end,  yet  cannot  be  related  in  one 
perpetual  narrative,  without  occasioning  some 
confusion  of  ideas,  alike  destructive  of  the 
pleasure  and  of  the  use  of  history.  While  we 
endeavour  to  keep  each  series  of  events  un- 
broken and  distinct,  we  must  be  careful  to 
point  out  its  influence  on  the  simultaneous  or 
succeeding  transactions  of  the  times,  that  our 
relation  may  be  at  once  satisfactory  and  faith- 
ful. In  such  a delineation  the  trophies  of  the 
Persian  war  justly  claim  the  first  and  most 
conspicuous  place;  the  hostile  animosity  of 
rival  states,  which  continually  envied  and  op- 
posed, but,  for  reasons  that  will  be  fully  ex- 
plained, could  neither  prevent  nor  retard  the 
growing  superiority  of  Athens,  shall  occupy 
the  middle  of  the  picture ; and  we  shall  throw 
into  the  back  ground  the  successive  usurpa- 
tions of  that  fortunate  republic  over  her  allies, 
colonies,  and  neighbours. 

The  common  fears  which,  notwithstanding 
innumerable  sources  of  animosity,  had  formed, 
and  hitherto  upheld  a partial  confederacy  of 
the  Greeks,  were  removed  by  the  decisive  vic- 
tories  of  Plataea  and  Mycale.  After 
1 ^ P"  these  memorable  events,  it  was  the 
AXC  4*79  Care  Athenians  to  bring 

home  their  wives,  children,  and 
most  valuable  effects  from  the  isles  of  iEgina 
and  Salamis.  In  the  latter  island  they  cele- 
brated their  good  fortune  by  a national  solem- 
nity. The  sublime  Sophocles  joined  in  the 
chorus  of  boys  which  danced,  in  exultation, 
around  the  Barbarian  spoils  ;2  the  valour  of  his 
predecessor,  iEschylus,  had  contributed  to  the 
victories  by  which  they  were  obtained  ; and  his 
rival,  the  tender  Euripides,  was  born  in  the  isle 
Salamis,3  on  that  important  day  which  proved 
alike  glorious  to  Greece,  and  fatal  to  Persia. 
But  an  attention  to  domestic  concerns  prevent- 
ed not  the  Athenians  from  pushing  the  war  with 
vigour,  though  deserted  by  the  Spartans  and 
other  Peloponnesians,  who  sailed  home  before 
winter.  The  Asiatic  colonies,  animated  by  the 
recent  recovery  of  freedom,  seconded  the  Athe- 
nian ardour  ; and  the  confederates,  having  suc- 
cessfully infested  the  territories  of  the  great 
king,  besieged  and  took  the  rich  city  of  Sestos 
in  the  Chersonesus  of  Thrace,  the  only  place  of 
strength  which  adhered  to  the  Persian  interest 
in  that  fertile  peninsula.4 

During  the  two  following  years  the  war 


1 The  chief  materials  for  this  portion  of  history  consist  in 
the  first  and  second  books  of  Thucydides ; the  eleventh  and 
twelfth  of  Diodorus  Siculus;  Plutarch’s  lives  of  Themisto- 
cles,  Aristides,  Cimon,  Pericles ; Pausanias’s  Description 
of  Greece,  and  Pliny’s  Natural  History  : scattered  facts  are 
supplied  by  other  ancient  writers,  whose  works  will  be 
carefully  cited. 

2 Athenaeus,  1.  i.  3 Vita  Euripid. 

4 Herodot.  1.  ix.  c.  cvi.  Diodor.  1.  xi.  c.  xxxvii. 


[Chap. 

languished  abroad,  while  the  symptoms  of 
jealousy  and  discord,  which  had  already  ap- 
peared in  the  separation  of  the  Athenian  and 
Spartan  fleets,  broke  out  with  more  virulence 
OlvmD  at  k°me*  The  Athenians  began  the 
lxxv  3 4 lak01'i0us  task  of  rebuilding  their 
A C 478*  ru*ne<^  cityi  which  the  Persian 
et*47*7  5 SP°^S  might  contribute  to  enrich 

with  uncommon  magnificence,  and 
which  the  acquaintance  gained  in  the  course 
of  the  war,  the  graceful  forms  of  Ionic  and 
Doric  architecture,  might  enable  them  to  adorn 
with  more  beauty  and  elegance  than  had  yet 
been  displayed  in  Europe.  But  the  weighty 
advice  of  Themistocles  prevailed  on  them  to 
suspend  this  noble  undertaking,  and  engaged 
them,  instead  of  decorating  their  capital  with 
temples,  theatres,  and  gymnasia,  to  fortify  it  by 
walls  of  such  strength  and  solidity  as  might 
thenceforth  bid  defiance  to  every  enemy, 
whether  foreign  or  domestic.  In  an  age  when 
the  art  of  attack  was  so  rude  and  imperfect, 
that  the  smallest  fortress  formed  an  object  of 
importance,  such  a design  could  not  fail  of  ex- 
citing jealousy  in  the  neighbouring  republics. 
The  measure  was  scarcely  determined  when  an 
embassy  arrived  from  Sparta,  remonstrating 
against  a design  peculiarly  dangerous  and 
alarming  to  those  wTho  owed  their  safety  to  the 
weakness  of  their  cities.  “ If  the  Greeks,”  it  was 
said,  “had  possessed  any  town  of  impregna- 
ble strength,  they  must  have  found  it  impossi- 
ble to  expel  the  Barbarians  from  their  country. 
The  Athenians  therefore,  who  had  hitherto  so 
generously  maintained  the  cause  of  the  con- 
federacy, ought  not  only  to  desist  from  raising 
walls  and  fortifications,  but  even  to  prevent  a 
similar  design  in  any  republic  beyond  the  isth- 
mus ; the  Peloponnesus  was  alone  sufficient  to 
afford,  in  time  of  danger,  a secure  refuge  to  the 
whole  Grecian  name.” 

Themistocles  easily  unveiled  the  suspicion 
and  hatred  concealed  under  this  specious  mask 
of  public  utility,  and  encouraged  his  country- 
men to  elucje  the  Spartan  artifice  by  similar 
address.  The  senate  of  the  five  hundred,  who 
gave  audience  to  foreign  ambassadors,  declared 
that  Athens  would  adopt  no  measure  incon- 
sistent with  the  public  interest,  and  promised 
speedily  to  send  an  embassy,  in  their  turn, 
which  would  remove  all  groundless  apprehen- 
sions entertained  on  that  subject.  The  La- 
cedaemonians having  returned  with  this  tem- 
porising answer,  Themistocles  was  immediately 
despatched  to  Sparta,  and  expected,  as  he  had 
previously  concerted  matters  with  his  country- 
men,5 to  be  followed,  at  a proper  time,  by 
Aristides,  the  most  respected  character  of  his 
age  ; and  by  Lisicles,  an  able  orator  in  the 
senate  and  assembly.  Mean  while  the  Athe- 
nian walls  arose  with  unexampled  celerity. 
Not  only  slaves,  artificers  by  profession,  and 
the  poorer  classes  of  citizens, -but  magistrates 
of  the  first  rank,  the  venerable  fathers  of  the 
republic,  wrought  with  their  own  hands,  and 
with  unceasing  industry.  The  feeble  efforts 
of  women  and  children  contributed  to  the  use- 
ful labour.  The  most  superstitious  of  men 


5 Idem  ibid,  ct  in  Them.  Lys.  Orat.  Fun.  ct  cont.  Alcib. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


149 


XII.] 

neglected  their  accustomed  solemnities,  and  no 
longer  acknowledged  the  distinction  of  days  or 
seasons  : nor  did  even  the  silent  tranquillity  of 
night  abate  the  ardour  of  their  diligence.  The 
ruins  of  their  city  happily  supplied  them  with 
a rich  variety  of  material ; no  edifice  was 
spared,  public  or  private,  sacred  or  profane ; 
the  rude  sculpture  of  ancient  temples,  even  the 
mutilated  tombs  of  their  ancestors,  were  con- 
founded in  the  common  mass ; and,  at  the 
distance  of  near  a century,  the  singular  appear- 
ance of  the  wall,  composed  of  stones  rough 
and  unpolished,  of  various  colours  and  une- 
qual size,  attested  the  rapid  exertions  by  which 
the  work  had  been  constructed.6 

Themistocles  had  hitherto,  under  various 
pretences,  avoided  declaring  his  commission  be- 
fore the  Spartan  senate.  When  urged  to  this 
measure  by  some  of  the  magistrates,  who  began 
to  suspect  his  silence,  he  still  alleged  the  ab- 
sence of  his  colleagues  as  a sufficient  reason 
for  delay.  But  a company  of  travellers,  who 
had  recently  visited  Athens,  gave  intelligence 
of  the  extraordinary  works  carrying  on  in  that 
city.  This  information,  and  the  resentment  of 
the  Spartans  which  it  occasioned,  must  have 
disconcerted  a man  who  possessed  less  cool 
boldness  than  the  commander  at  Salamis  and 
Artemisium.  But  Themistocles,  with  the  ad- 
dress congenial  to  his  character,  asserted,  that 
it  was  unworthy  the  gravity  of  Sparta  to  regard 
the  vague  rumours  of  obscure  men ; and  that 
before  lightly  suspecting  the  approved  fidelity 
of  their  allies,  she  ought  to  bestow  some  pains 
in  discovering  the  truth.  This  declaration  was 
enforced,  it  is  said,  by  seasonable  bribes  to  the 
most  popular  of  the  Ephori ; and  the  Spartans, 
deluded  or  corrupted,  agreed  to  despatch  a 
second  embassy  to  Athens,  consisting  of  some 
of  their  most  respectable  citizens.  These  men 
had  no  sooner  arrived  at  their  destination,  than 
they  were  taken  into  custody,  as  pledges  for 
the  safe  return  of  Themistocles  and  his  col- 
leagues, who  by  this  time  had  brought  him  the 
welcome  news,  that  the  walls  were  completed. 
The  Athenian  ambassadors  were  now  prepared 
to  throw  off  the  mask.  They  appeared  in  the 
Lacedaemonian  assembly;  and  Themistocles, 
speaking  for  the  rest,  declared,  that  his  coun- 
trymen needed  not  to  learn  from  their  con- 
federates, what  measures  were  honourable  to 
themselves,  and  beneficial  to  the  common  cause ; 
that,  by  his  advice,  they  had  firmly  defended 
their  city  against  the  assaults  of  open  enemies 
and  jealous  friends ; and  that  if  Sparta  enter- 
tained any  resentment  of  this  measure,  which 
was  evidently  not  less  conducive  to  the  public 
interest,  than,  perhaps,  displeasing  to  private 
ambition,  her  anger  would  be  equally  unjust  and 
impotent,  since  her  own  citizens  must  remain 
as  hostages  at  Athens,  till  his  colleagues  and 
himself  should  be  restored  in  safety  to  their 
country.7  Whatever  secret  indignation  this 
speech  might  excite,  the  Spartans  thought 
proper  to  suppress  their  animosity.  They 
allowed  the  ambassadors  to  return  home  ; but 
the  conduct  of  Themistocles  laid  the  foundation 


6 Thucydid.  1.  i.  c.  Ixxxix.  et.  seq. 

7 Plut.  &c,  ibid. 


of  that  unrelenting  hatred  with  which  he  was 
persecuted  by  Sparta,  whose  intrigues  engaged 
all  Greece,  not  excepting  Athens  herself,  in  the 
destruction  of  this  illustrious  citizen.  Yet  his 
eminent  services,  before  they  were  interrupted 
by  the  storm  of  persecution,  gave  an  opportu- 
nity to  his  unwTorthy  country  to  display  more 
fully  her  signal  ingratitude.8 

. The  ancient  Athenian  harbour 

j ymP*  0f  Phalericum  was  small,  narrow, 
— and  inconvenient.  To  supply  its 

a.  Ls.  i.  ^fects,  Themistocles,  even  before 
the  Persian  invasion,  had  recommended  the 
Piraeus,  a place  five  miles  distant  from  the  cita- 
del, furnished  with  three  natural  basins,  which, 
if  properly  fortified,  might  form  a far  more 
commodious  and  secure  station  for  the  Athe- 
nian navy.  The  foundations  were  laid,  and 
the  walls  began  to  rise,  when  tfee  cruel  ravages 
of  the  Barbarians  interrupted  the  undertaking. 
Having  in  the  preceding  year  fortified  the  city, 
Themistocles  thought  the  present  a proper  time 
to  finish  the  new  harbour.0  His  address,  his 
eloquence,  and  his  bribes,  were  seasonably  ap- 
plied to  divert  the  resentment  of  Sparta,  who, 
though  thenceforth  less  jealous  of  the  naval 
than  military  power  of  her  rival,  threatened,  on 
this  occasion,  to  enter  Attica  with  an  armed 
force.  But  the  artful  Athenian  had  the  skill  to 
persuade  the  Spartans  and  their  allies,  that  the 
procuring  a strong  and  capacious  harbour  was 
a matter  essentially  requisite  to  the  common 
interest  of  the  Grecian  confederacy.  The 
work,  mean  time,  was  carried  on  at  Athens 
with  much  spirit  and  activity,  and,  in  less  than 
a twelvemonth,  brought  to  such  a prosperous 
conclusion,  as  could  scarcely  be  credited,  but 
on  the  testimony  of  a contemporary  historian 
of  the  most  approved  diligence  and  fidelity.10 
The  new  walls  were  sufficiently  broad  to  admit 
two  carriages  abreast;  the  stones  composing 
them  were  of  an  immense  size,  strongly  united 
by  bars  of  iron,  which  were  fastened  by  melted 
lead.  The  Piraeus  soon  grew  into  a town,  con- 
taining many  thousand  inhabitants.  It  was 
joined  to  the  city  by  walls  begun  by  Cimon, 
but  finished  by  Pericles,  twenty  years  after  the 
harbour  itself  had  been  erected.  The  new 
. £ .r„  buildings  of  Cimon  and  Pericles 
* * * are  often  mentioned  in  history  un- 

der the  name  of  the  Long  Walls.  They  ex- 
tended forty  stadia  on  either  side ; and  when 
added  to  the  circumference  of  the  ancient  city 
(about  sixty  stadia)  give  us  for  the  whole  cir- 
cuit of  the  Athenian  fortifications  an  extent  of 
nearly  eighteen  English  miles.11 

The  altercations  and  animosities  excited  by 
such  undertakings  among  the  confederates  at 
home,  prevented  not  their  united  arms  from 
assaulting  the  dominions  of  the  great  king. 
Thirty  Athenian,  and  fifty  Peloponnesian  ships, 
had  been  employed  to  expel  the  Persian  garri- 
sons from  the  sea-ports  which  they  still  occu- 
pied in  the  Hellespont,  the  Propontis,  and  the 
iEgean  isles.  The  European  fleet,  being  sea- 


8 Diodor.  1.  xi.  p.  437. 

9 Tliucyd.  1.  i.  c.  xciii.  Plut.  in  Themist.  Diodor.  xi.  436. 

10  Thucydid.  ubi  supra. 

11  Pausanias,  p.  20,  et  seq.  Strabo,  p.  391,  et  seq.  Plut. 
in  Cimon. 


150 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


sonably  joined  by  various  squadrons  from  the 
Greek  cities  of  Asia,  scoured  the  eastern  shores 
of  the  Mediterranean,  and  delivered  from  op- 
pression the  long  enslaved  island  of  Cyprus. 
Their  next  operation  must  have  been  at  a con- 
siderable distance  of  time,  since  they  had  to 
return  near  two  hundred  leagues  westward, 
p.,  and  then  to  proceed  almost  as  far 

ymp.  towards  the  north,  and  the  Bos- 
A Xr*  4 phorus  of  Thrace.  At  the  entrance 
’ ‘ 'of  this  celebrated  canal,  which 

joins  the  Euxine  and  Propontis,  the  city  of 
Byzantium,  destined  in  future  ages  to  become 
the  seat  of  empire,  and  long  to  remain  the 
chief  emporium  of  Europe  and  of  Asia,  had 
been  first  founded  by  a feeble  colony  of  Mega- 
reans,  which  had  gradually  become  populous, 
flourishing,  and  independent,  but  which  was 
actually  commanded  and  insulted  by  armed 
Barbarians.  It  is  not  probable  that  Xerxes,  or 
his  ministers,  perceived  the  peculiar  security 
of  Byzantium,  situate  between  the  Bosphorus 
and  the  Hellespont,  two  straits,  which  it  might 
occasionally  shut  to  a hostile  navy,  or  open  to 
the  fleets  of  commerce.  But  had  they  been 
sensible  of  this  advantage,  the  misfortunes 
hitherto  attending  all  their  maritime  enter- 
prises must  have  rendered  it  impossible  to  en- 
courage their  seamen  to  resist  a victorious 
enemy.  They  discovered,  however,  more  than 
their  usual  vigour,  in  defending,  by  land,  a 
place  which  they  regarded  as  the  centre  of  very 
valuable  possessions.  The  adjacent  coast  of 
Thrace  forms  a striking  contrast  with  the  in- 
land parts  of  that  country.  Instead  of  bleak 
heaths,  and  snowy  mountains,  which  deform 
the  inhospitable  regions  of  Hsemus  and  Rho- 
dope, the  maritime  provinces  produce  in  abun- 
dance, vines,  olives,  the  most  useful  grains,  and 
the  most  delicious  fruits.  The  climate  vies 
with  the  delightful  softness  of  the  Asiatic 
plains  ; and  the  soil  had  been  long  cultivated 
by  Greek  colonies,  who  had  widely  extended 
themselves  on  both  sides  of  Byzantium.  The 
Barbarians  strengthened  the  garrison  of  the 
place,  which  was  well  supplied  with  provi- 
sions, and  commanded  by  Persians  of  the  first 
distinction,  among  whom  were  several  kinsmen 
of  the  great  king.  The  siege  was  obstinate, 
but  the  events  of  it  are  not  described  in  history. 
It  is  only  known,  that  the  walls  were  stormed, 
and  that  an  immense  booty,  together  with  many 
Persian  princes  and  nobles,  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  victors.1 

Here  the  glory  of  Pausanias,  who  still  com- 
manded the  forces  of  the  confederacy  ; a man 
whose  fame  would  rival  the  most  illustrious 
names  of  antiquity,  had  he  fallen  in  the  siege 
of  Byzantium.  The  rich  spoils  of  Plataea,  of 
which  the  tenth  was  allotted  to  him,  as  general, 
raised  him  above  the  equality  required  by  the 
republican  institutions  of  his  country.  His 
recent  conquest  still  farther  augmented  his 
wealth  and  his  ambition ; a continual  flow  of 
prosperity,  which  is  dangerous  to  the  best  re- 
gulated minds,  proved  fatal  to  the  aspiring  tem- 
per of  Pausanias.  As  he  conceived  himself  too 


1 Plul.  in  Aristid.  Thucydid.  1.  i.  95,  et  seq.  Diodor.  1. 
xi.  44 — 46. 


[Ciiap. 

great  to  remain  a subject,  he  was  willing  to 
become  a sovereign,  through  the  assistance  of 
Xerxes,  the  inveterate  enemy  of  his  country. 
To  this  prince  he  made  application,  by  means 
of  Gongylus  the  Eretrian,  a fit  instrument  for 
any  kind  of  villany.  To  such  an  associate 
Pausanias  had  entrusted  the  noble  Persians 
taken  in  Byzantium.  This  man  escaped  with 
his  prisoners  across  the  Bosphorus,  and  con- 
veyed a letter  to  the  great  king,  in  which  the 
Spartan  general,  having  mentioned,  as  in- 
dubitable proof  of  his  sincerity,  the  restoring 
his  captive  kinsmen,  proposed  to  enter  into 
strict  amity  with  Xerxes,  to  take  his  daughter 
in  marriage,  to  second  his  efforts  in  conquering 
.Greece,  and  to  hold  that  country  as  a depend- 
ent province  of  the  Persian  empire.  The  Per- 
sian is  said  to  have  highly  relished  these  pro- 
posals, the  subjugation  of  Greece  being  the 
great  object  of  his  reign.  It  is  certain  that  he 
speedily  sent  Artabazus,  a nobleman  of  con- 
fidence, to  confer  and  co-operate  with  the 
traitor. 

But  Pausanias  himself  acted  with  the  preci- 
pitancy and  inconsistency  of  a man,  who  had 
either  been  deluded  into  treason  by  bad  ad- 
vice, or  totally  intoxicated  by  the  dangerous 
vapours  of  ambition  that  floated  in  his  distem- 
pered brain.  Instead  of  dissembling  his  de- 
signs until  they  were  ripe  for  execution,  he 
assumed  at  once  the  tone  of  a master  and  the 
manners  of  a tyrant.  He  became  difficult  of 
access  to  his  colleagues  in  command ; disdain- 
ed their  advice  in  concerting  measures  which 
they  were  ordered  to  execute  ; he  was  sur- 
rounded by  guards,  chosen  from  the  conquered 
Barbarians ; and  he  punished  the  slightest 
offence  in  the  allied  troops  with  a rigour 
hitherto  unknown  to  the  Grecian  discipline. 
He  still  managed,  indeed,  the  fierce  spirits  of 
the  Spartans,  but  without  any  degree  of  pru- 
dence, since  the  distinctions  Which  he  demand- 
ed for  them,  tended  only  to  irritate  and  inflame 
their  confederates,  who  were  not  allowed  to 
forage,  to  draw  water,  to  cut  down  straw  for 
their  beds,  until  the  countrymen  of  Pausanias 
had  been  previously  furnished  with  all  these 
articles. 

This  intolerable  insolence  dis- 
ymp.  gUSted  and  provoked  the  army  in 
AXp'  general,  but  especially  the  Ionians, 
A.  v.,.  4/o.  wj1Q  iamented  that  they  had  been 
no  sooner  delivered  from  the  shackles  of  Per- 
sian despotism,  than  they  were  bent  under  the 
severer  and  more  odious  yoke  of  Sparta.  By 
common  consent,  they  repaired  to  the  Athenian 
Aristides,  and  his  colleague  Cimon,  the  son  of 
Miltiades,  a youth  of  the  fairest  hopes,  who  had 
signalized  his  patriotism  and  valour  in  all  the 
glorious  scenes  of  the  war.  Their  designs 
being  approved  by  the  Athenian  admirals, 
Uliades  and  Antagoras,  who  respectively  com- 
manded the  fleets  of  Samos  and  Chios,  the 
bravest  of  all  the  maritime  allies,  seized  the 
first  opportunity  to  insult  the  galley  of  Pau- 
sanias ; and  when  reproached  and  threatened 
by  the  Spartan,  they  desired  him  to  thank 
Fortune,  who  had  favoured  him  at  Platrea,  the 
memory  of  which  victory  alone  saved  him  from 
the  immediate  punishment  of  his  arrogance 


XII.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


151 


and  cruelty.  These  words  speedily  re-echoed 
through  the  whole  fleet,  arid  served,  as  soon  as 
they  were  heard,  for  the  signal  of  general  re- 
volt. The  different  squadrons  of  Asia  and  the 
Hellespont  sailed  from  their  stations,  joined 
the  ships  of  Uliades  and  Antagoras,  loudly  de- 
clared against  the  insolent  ambition  of  Pausa- 
nias,  abjured  the  proud  tyranny  of  Sparta,  and 
for  ever  ranged  themselves  under  the  vic- 
torious colours  of  Athens,  whose  generous 
magnanimity  seemed  best  fitted  to  command 
the  willing  obedience  of  freemen.2 

This  revolution  had  immediate 
lxxv'  2 and  hnportant  effects,  which  we 
A C 47r  Procee(l  t°  explain,  when  we 

have  punished  and  dismissed  the 
unworthy  Pausanias.  Apprised  of  his  malver- 
sation and  treachery,  the  Spartan  senate  recall- 
ed him,  to  stand  trial  for  his  life.  But  his  im- 
mense wealth  enabling  him  to  corrupt  the 
integrity  of  his  judges,  he  escaped  without  far- 
ther punishment  than  degradation  from  his 
office,  and  paying  a heavy  fine.  In  his  stead, 
the  Spartans  substituted,  not  one  admiral, 
but  several  captains,  with  divided  authority, 
thereby  to  remove  the  odium  and  resentment 
which  the  insolence  of  unlimited  command  had 
excited  among  their  confederates.  Pausanias, 
though  divested  of  his  public  character,  having 
accompanied  these  officers  to  the  Hellespont,  in 
a vessel  fitted  out  at  his  private  expense,  began 
to  display  more  arrogance  than  ever.  He  dis- 
dained not  only  the  manners  and  behaviour, 
but  the  dress  and  appearance  of  a Greek ; car- 
ried on,  almost  openly,  his  treacherous  corres- 
pondence with  Artabazus  ; increased  the  num- 
ber of  his  Barbarian  guards  and  attendants  ; 
trampled  with  contempt  on  the  most  revered 
institutions  of  his  country  ; and  assumed  that 
provoking  pomp  of  power,  and  that  offensive 
ostentation  of  vice,  which  disgraced  the  profli- 
gate lives  of  the  Persian  satraps.3 

When  the  Spartan  magistrates  received  a full 
account  of  his  pride  and  folly,  they  were  ap- 
prehensive lest  he  might  refuse  to  return  home 
on  an  ordinary  summons,  and  therefore  em- 
ployed the  form  of  the  scytale,  a form  reserved 
for  the  most  solemn  occasions.  The  scytale 
(for  opinion  can  give  importance  to  any  thing) 
was  only  a narrow  scroll  of  parchment,  which 
had  been  rolled  on  a piece  of  wood,  and  then 
stamped  with  the  decree  of  the  republic.  Every 
Spartan,  invested  with  authority  at  home  or 
abroad,  possessed  a tally  exactly  corresponding 
to  the  rod  on  which  the  parchment  had  been 
first  rolled.  By  applying  his  tally,  the  words 
of  the  scytale  necessarily  arranged  themselves 
in  their  original  form,  and  attested  the  authen- 
tic command  of  the  magistrate.  As  tutor  to 
the  infant  king  of  Sparta,  Pausanias  had  been 
furnished  with  an  instrument  of  this  kind  ; and 
6uch  is  the  effect  of  legal  formality,  that  a man 
who  would  probably  have  despised  tho  injunc- 
tion of  a simple  letter,  returned  without  delay 
to  a country  which  he  had  betrayed,  when 
recalled  by  this  frivolous,  but  respected  cere- 
mony. 


The  external  professions,  and  hypocritical 
pedantry,  of  Spartan  virtue,  were  most  shame- 
fully detected  and  exposed  in  the  whole  affair 
of  Pausanias.  Though  convicted  of  the  most 
odious  tyranny,  extortion,  and  profligacy,  he 
was  still  allowed  to  enjoy  the  benefit  of  per- 
sonal freedom  ; to  correspond  by  frequent  mes- 
sages with  his  accomplice  Artabazus ; and,  at 
length,  to  tamper  with  the  Helots  and  Messe- 
nians,  those  oppressed  slaves,  who  were  ever 
ready  to  rebel  against  the  unrelenting  tyranny 
of  their  masters.  But  as  it  exceeded  even  the 
opulence  and  effrontery  of  Pausanias,  to  cor- 
rupt and  influence  the  whole  republic,  those 
who  had  either  escaped  the  general  contagion 
of  venality,  or  who  were  offended  at  not 
sharing  his  bribes,  accused  him,  a third  time, 
of  treason  to  Greece,  in  consequence  of  an 
event  which  enabled  them  in  the  fullest  manner 
to  make  good  the  charge.  An  unhappy  youth, 
who  lived  with  Pausanias  as  the  infamous 
minister  of  his  pleasure,  was  destined  by  that 
monster  to  become  the  victim  of  his  ambition. 
He  was  charged  with  a letter  from  his  master 
to  Artabazus,  in  which,  after  explaining  the 
actual  state  of  his  affairs,  Pausanias  hinted  to 
him,  as  had  been  his  usual  practice,  to  destroy 
the  bearer.  The  suspicious  youth,  who  had  ob- 
served that  none  of  those  sent  on  such  errands 
ever  returned  to  their  country,  broke  open  the 
letter,  and  read  his  own  fate.  Fired  with  re- 
sentment, he  instantly  carried  tire  writing  to  the 
enemies  of  Pausanias,  who  prudently  advised 
the  messenger  to  take  refuge  in  the  temple  of 
Neptune,  expecting  that  his  master  would  soon 
follow  him.  Mean  while  they  practised  a con- 
cealment in  the  wall  of  the  temple,  and  having 
acquainted  the  Ephori,  and  other  chief  magis- 
trates, with  their  contrivance  for  convicting  the 
traitor  by  his  own  words,  they  obtained  a de- 
putation to  accompany  them,  to  remain  con- 
cealed with  them  in  the  temple,  and  to  over- 
hear the  mutual  reproaches  of  Pausanias  and 
his  messenger.  Yet  the  superstition  of  the 
Spartans  permitted  them  not  to  seize  the  cri- 
minal in  that  sacred  edifice.  He  was  allowed 
to  retire  in  safety;  and  when  the  senate  had 
at  length  determined  to  lay  hold  of  him,  he 
was  privately  admonished  of  .his  danger  by 
some  members  of  that  venal  assembly.  Upon 
this  intelligence,  he  took  refuge  in  the  temple 
of  Minerva,  from  which  it  being  unlawful  to 
drag  him,  that  asylum  was  surrounded  by 
guards,  all  necessaries  were  denied  the  prisoner, 
and  he  thus  perished  by  hunger.4 


Olymp. 


The  late  punishment  of  this  de- 
testable traitor  could  not  repair 


lxxvi  2 • • 

A r the  ruinous  effects  of  his  miscon- 

' * * duct  and  villany.  Not  only  tho 

Ionians,  who  had  first  begun  the  revolt,  but 
the  foreign  confederates  in  general,  loudly  re- 
jected the  pretensions  of  Dorcus  and  other 
captains  whom  the  Spartans  appointed  to 
command  them.  A few  communities  of  Pelo- 
ponnesus still  followed  the  Lacedaemonian 
standard ; but  the  islanders  and  Asiatics  una- 
nimously applied  to  Aristides,  to  whose  ap- 


2 Ncpos  in  Pausan.  Plutarch,  in  Arlatid. 

3 Thucydid.  i.  95  et  128. 


4 Thucyd.  1.  i.  c.  cxxviii.  ct  scq.  Diodor.  1.  xi.  c.  xKv 
ct  Ncpos  in  Pausan 


152 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


proved  wisdom  and  virtue  they  not  only  en- 
trusted the  operations  of  the  combined  arma- 
ment, but  voluntarily  submitted  their  more  par- 
ticular concerns ; and  experience  soon  justified 
their  prudent  choice.  Pay  was  not  yet  intro- 
duced into  the  Grecian  service,  because  the  cha- 
racter of  soldier  was  not  separated  from  that  of 
citizen.  It  had  been  usual,  however,  to  raise  an- 
nually a certain  proportion  of  supplies  among 
the  several  confederates,  in  order  to  purchase 
arms,  to  equip  and  victual  the  galleys,  and  to 
provide  such  engines  of  war  as  proved  requisite 
in  storming  the  fortified  towns  belonging  to 
the  common  enemy.1  By  unanimous  suffrage, 
Aristides  was  appointed  to  new-model  and 
apply  this  necessary  tax,  which  had  been  im- 
posed and  exacted  by  the  Spartans  without 
sufficient  attention  to  the  respective  faculties 
of  the  contributaries.  The  honest  Athenian 
executed  this  delicate  office  with  no  less  judg- 
ment than  equity.  The  whole  annual  impo- 
sition amounted  to  four  hundred  and  sixty 
talents, about  ninety  thousand  pounds  sterling; 
which  was  proportioned  with  such  nice  accu- 
racy, that  no  state  found  the  smallest  reason  to 
complain  of  partiality  or  injustice.  The  com- 
mon treasure  was  kept  in  the  central  and  sa- 
cred island  of  Delos  ; and,  though  entrusted  to 
the  personal  discretion  of  the  Athenian  com- 
mander, was  soon  conceived  to  lie  at  the  dis- 
position of  his  republic.2 

While  the  merit  of  Aristides  thus  procured 
his  countrymen  the  management  of  the  na- 
tional treasury  of  Greece,  Themistocles  was 
equally  successful  in  improving  the  internal 
resources  of  the  state.  By  yielding  more  pro- 
tection to  strangers  than  they  enjoyed  in 
neighbouring  cities,  he  augmented  not  only  the 
populousness,  but  the  wealth  of  Athens,  as  that 
description  of  men  paid  an  annual  cofitribu- 
tion  in  return  for  their  security.3  This,  to- 
gether with  other  branches  of  the  revenue,  he 
employed  in  building  annually  about  sixty 
galleys,  the  addition  of  which  to  the  Athenian 
navy  abundantly  compensated  such  losses  as 
were  sustained  by  the  accidents  of  the  sea  in 
foreign  parts.  Notwithstanding  the  envy  and 
malice  of  worthless  demagogues,  who  infested 
the  Athenian  assembly  and  courts  of  justice, 
Themistocles  was  fast  advancing  to  the  attain- 
ment of  the  same  authority  at  home,  which 
Aristides  enjoyed  abroad,  when  complaints  ar- 
rived from  Sparta,  that  he  had  conspired  with 
Pausanias  to  betray  the  public  liberty.  The 
known  resentment  of  the  Spartans  against  this 
extraordinary  man^  sufficiently  explains  the 
reason  why  they,  who  were  so  dilatory  in  their 
proceedings  against  Pausanias  himself,  should 
be  so  eager  to  bring  to  punishment  his  sup- 
posed accomplice.  But  it  was  not  easy  to  con- 
ceive, how  the  Athepians  could  admit  such  an 
accusation  against  a citizen,  whose  singular 
valour  and  conduct  had  gained  the  decisive 
victory  at  Salamis ; whose  counsels  and  ad- 
dress had  fortified  their  city  with  impregnable 
strength;  whose  foresight  and  activity  had 


Olymp. 
lxxvi.  4. 
A.  C.  473 


[Chap. 

procured  them  a fleet  which  no  nation  in  the 
world  could  resist ; and  whose  abilities  and 
patriotism  had  not  only  saved  his  country  from 
the  most  formidable  invasion  recorded  in  histo- 
ry, and  which  was  principally  directed  against 
Athens,  but  amidst  the  terrors  of  this  invasion, 
the  treachery  of  false  friends,  and  the  violence 
of  open  enemies,  had  so  eminently  contributed 
to  raise  his  republic  to  the  first  rank  in  the 
Grecian  confederacy.  Yet  such,  on  the  one 
hand,  was  the  effect  cf  that  envy  which,  in  re- 
publics, always  accompanies  excellence  ; and 
such,  on  the  other,  the  influence  of  Spartan 
bribery  and  intrigues,  that  Themistocles  was 
banished  by  the  ostracism,  a punishment  in- 
flicted on  men  whose  aspiring  ambition  seemed 
dangerous  to  freedom,  which  required  not  the 
proof  of  any  particular  delinquency,  and  which 
had  effect  only  during  a term  of  years.4 

It  is  probable,  that  the  illustrious 
exile  would  have  been  recalled  be- 
fore the  expiration  of  the  appointed 
time ; but  the  persecution  of  Sparta 
allowed  not  his  countrymen  leisure  to  repent 
of  their  severity.  Having  punished  Pausanias, 
they  acquainted  the  Athenians,  “ That  from 
the  papers  of  that  notorious  traitor,  complete 
evidence  appeared  of  the  guilt  of  Themistocles; 
that  it  was  not  sufficient,  therefore,  to  have  ex- 
pelled him  for  a few  years  from  Athens,  by  an 
indulgent  decree,  which  the  assembly  might 
revoke  at  pleasure ; that  crimes  against  the 
general  confederacy  of  Greece  ought  to  be 
judged  by  the  Amphictyonic  council,  and  pu- 
nished by  death,  or  perpetual  banishment.” 
The  Athenians  shamefully  complied  with  this 
demand.  It  appeared,  indeed,  that  Themisto- 
cles had  corresponded  with  Pausanias,  and  been 
privy  to  his  designs ; but  he  persisted  in  affirm- 
ing that  he  never  had  approved  them.  The 
rivalship  and  enmity  subsisting  between  Sparta 
and  Argos,  had  induced  him  to  choose  the  lat- 
ter as  the  place  of  his  retreat.  There  he  re- 
ceived the  news  of  his  condemnation  ; after 
which,  not  thinking  himself  secure  in  any  city 
of  Peloponnesus,  he  sailed  to  Corcyra.  But 
his  enemies  still  continuing  to  pursue  him,  he 
fled  to  the  opposite  coast  of  Epirus,  and  sought 
refuge  among  the  barbarous  JVIolossians.  Soon 
afterwards  he  escaped  into  Persia,  where  his 
wonderful  versatility  of  genius,  in  acquiring 
the  language  and  manners  of  that  country,  re- 
commended him  to  the  new  king  Artaxerxes, 
who  had  lately  succeeded  the  unfortunate  in- 
vader of  Greece.  The  suspicion 
of  treason  throws  a dark  shade  on 
the  eminent  lustre  of  his  abilities  ; 
nor  does  the  disinterestedness  of 
' is  private  character  tend  to  remove  the  impu- 
tion.  Though  he  carried  with  him  to  Persia 
his  most  valuable  effects,  yet  the  estimate  of 
the  property  which  he  left  behind  in  Athens, 
amounted  to  a hundred  talents  (above  twenty 
thousand  pounds  sterling,)  an  immense  sum, 
when  estimated  by  the  value  of  money  in  that 
age.  The  whole  was  confiscated  to  the  exche- 
quer ; and  the  eagerness  of  the  populace  to 
seize  this  rich  booty,  serves  to  explain  the  ala- 


Olymp. 
lxxvii.  1. 
A.  C.  472. 


1 Plut.  in  Aristid.  p.  532,  et  seq. 

2 Ibid.  p.  534.  Thucyd.  1.  i.  c.  xcvi.  Diodov.  p.  440. 

3 Lysias  adv.  Philon. 


4 Diodor.  p.  445,  et  seq.  Plut.  ibid. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


153 


XII.] 

crity  with  which  ail  parties  agreed  to  his  de- 
struction. A report  prevailed  in  Greece,  that 
Themistocles  could  never  forgive  the  ingrati- 
tude of  the  Athenians,  which  he  had  deter- 
mined to  revenge  at  the  head  of  a powerful 
army,  raised  by  Artaxerxes.  But  perceiving  the 
unexampled  success  of  Cimon  on  the  Asiatic 
coast,  he  despaired  of  being  able  to  accomplish 
his  design;  and,  in  a melancholy  hour, ended  his 
life  by  poison,  at  the  age  of  sixty -five,  in  Mag- 
nesia, a town  of  Lydia,  which  had  been  be- 
stowed on  him  by  the  liberality  of  the  Persian 
monarch.5 

It  is  worthy  of  observation,  that 
ymp.  three  great  commanders  who 

A r a71  res^ste(^  and  disgraced  the  arms 
' * ’ of  Xerxes,  quitted  the  scene  almost 

at  the  same  time.  While  Pausanias  and  The- 
mistocles suffered  the  punishment  of  their  real 
or  pretended  crimes,  Aristides  died  of  old  age, 
universally  regretted  by  the  affectionate  admi- 
ration of  his  country.  He,  who  had  long 
managed  the  common  treasury  of  Greece,  left 
not  a sufficient  sum  to  defray  the  expense  of 
his  funeral.  His  son  Lysimachus  received  a 
present  of  three  hundred  pounds  from  the 
public,  to  enable  him  to  pursue  and  finish  his 
education.  His  daughters  were  maintained 
and  portioned  at  the  expense  of  the  treasury. 
This  honourable  poverty  well  corresponded 
with  the  manly  elevation  of  his  character, 
whose  pure  and  unsullied  splendour,  in  the 
opinion  of  a good  judge  of  merit,6  far  eclipses 
the  doubtful  fame  of  his  daring,  but  unfortu- 
nate rival. 

By  the  death  of  Aristides,  the  conduct  of  the 
Persian  war  devolved  on  his  colleague  Cimon, 
who  united  the  integrity  of  that  great  man  to 
the  valour  of  Miltiades  and  the  decisive  bold- 
ness of  Themistocles.  But  as  he  felt  an  ambi- 
tion for  eminence  which  disdains  bare  imita- 
tion, he  not  only  reflected  the  most  distinguish- 
ed excellences  of  his  predecessors, but  improved 
and  adorned  them  by  an  elegant  liberality  of 
manners,  an  indulgent  humanity,  and  candid 
condescension  ; virtues  which  long  secured  him 
the  affections  of  his  fellow  citizens,  while  his 
military  talents  and  authority,  always  directed 
by  moderation  and  justice,  maintained  an  ab- 
solute ascendant  over  the  allies  of  the  republic. 
His  first  operations  were  employed  against  the 
coast  of  Thrace  which  the  taking 
lxxvTi^k  Byzantium  seemed  to  render  an 
A C 471  easy  concLuest-  The  only  places  in 
that  country  fitted  to  make  an  ob- 
stinate resistance,  were  the  towns  of  Eion  and 
Amphipolis,  both  situate  on  the  river  Strymon ; 
the  former  near  its  junction  with  the  Strymo- 
nic  gulf,  the  latter  more  remote  from  the  shore, 
but  entirely  surrounded  by  an  arm  of  the  gulf, 
and  the  principal  branches  of  that  copious 
river.  Amphipolis,  however,  was  taken,  and 
planted  by  a numerous  colony  of  Athenians. 
But  Eion  still  opposed  a vigorous  resistance  ; 
Boges,  the  Persian  governor,  having  deter- 
mined rather  to  perish  than  surrender.  After 


5 Plat,  et  Nepos  in  Themist.  Diodor.  1.  xi.  c.  liv — lix. 
Thucyd.  i.  135,  et  seq. 

6 Plato  apud  Plutarch,  in  Aristid. 

u 


long  baffling  the  efforts  of  the  besiegers,  by 
such  persevering  courage  and  activity  as  none 
of  his  countrymen  had  displayed  in  the  course 
of  the  war,  this  fierce  Barbarian  was  at  length 
not  tamed,  but  exasperated  by  hunger.  His 
companions  and  attendants,  equally  desperate 
with  their  leader,  followed  his  intrepid  exam- 
ple ; and  mounting  the  ramparts  with  one  ac- 
cord, threw  into  the  middle  stream  of  the  Stry- 
mon their  gold,  silver,  and  other  precious 
effects.  After  thus  attesting  their  implacable 
hatred  to  the  assailants,  they  calmly  descended, 
lighted  a funeral  pile,  butchered  their  wives 
and  children,  and  again  mounting  the  walls, 
precipitated  themselves  with  fury  into  the 
thickest  of  the  flames.7 

With  this  signal  act  of  despair  ended  the 
Persian  dominion  over  the  coast  of  Europe, 
p.,  which  finally  submitted  to  the  vic- 

lxxvii  3 tori°us  arms  of  Cimon ; a general, 
A C *47*0  W^°  knew  alike  how  to  ednquer, 
and  how  to  use  the  victory.  The 
Athenians  were  eager  to  prolong  the  authority 
of  a man,  who  seemed  ambitious  to  acquire 
wealth  by  valour,  only  that  by  wealth  he  might 
purchase  the  public  esteem ; and  whose  affable 
condescension,  and  generous  liberality,  con- 
tinually increased  his  fame  and  his  influence 
both  at  home  and  abroad.  The  reinforce- 
ments with  which  he  was  speedily  furnished 
by  the  republic,  enabled  him  to  pursue  the 
enemy  into  Asia,  without  allowing  them  time 
to  breathe,  or  recover  strength,  after  their  re- 
peated defeats.  The  intermediate  islands  am- 
bitiously courted  his  protection  and  friendship  ; 
and  their  feeble  aid,  together  with  th'e  more 
powerful  assistance  of  the  Ionian  coast, 
speedily  increased  his  fleet  to  the  number  of 
three  hundred  sail. 

With  this  formidable  armament  he  stretched 
towards  the  coast  of  Caria,  where  his  approach 
served  for  the  signal  of  liberty  to  the  numerous 
Greek  cities  in  that  valuable  province.  Se- 
conded by  the  ardour  of  the  natives,  he  suc- 
cessively besieged  and  reduced  th.e  walled 
towns  and  fortresses,  several  of  which  weje 
filled  with  powerful  garrisons ; and,  in  the 
course  of  a few  months,  totally  expelled  the 
Persians  from  all  their  strong  holds  in  Caria. 
The  victorious  armament  then  proceeded  east- 
ward to  Lycia,  and  received  the  submission  of 
that  extensive  coast.  The  citizens  of  Phaselis 
alone,  defended  by  strong  walls,  and  a numer- 
ous garrison,  refused  to  admit  the  Grecian 
fleet,  or  to  betray  their  Persian  master.  Their 
resistance  was  the  more  formidable,  because 
their  ancient  connection  with  the  Chians,  who 
actually  served  under  the  colours  of  Cimon, 
enabled  them  to  enter  into  a treacherous  cor- 
respondence with  the  enemy.  After  other 
means  of  intercourse  had  been  cut  off,  the 
Chians  still  shot  arrows  over  the  walls,  and 
thus  conveyed  intelligence  into  the  place  of 
all  the  measures  adopted  by  the  assailants. 
Wherever  the  attack  was  made,  the  townsmen 
and  garrison  were  prepared  to  resist : the  be- 
siegers were  long  baffled  in  their  attempts  ; but 
the  perseverance  of  Cimon  finally  overcame 


7 Plut.  in  Cimon.  Diodor.  1.  xi. 


154 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


the  obstinacy  of  his  enemies.  Their  vigorous 
resistance  was  not  distinguished  by  any  me- 
morable punishment ; the  mediation  of  the 
Chians,  who  were  justly  esteemed  among  the 
best  sailors  in  the  Athenian  fleet,  easily  pre- 
vailing on  the  lenity  of  Cimon  to  grant  them 
a capitulation,  on  condition  that  they  imme- 
diately paid  ten  talents,  and  augmented  the 
Grecian  armament  by  their  whole  naval 
strength.1 

The  distracted  state  of  Persia,  the  intrigues 
of  the  court,  the  discord  of  the  palace,  and  the 
civil  wars  which  raised  to  the  throne  of  Xerxes 
his  third  son  Artaxerxes,  distinguished  by  the 
epithet  of  Longimanus,  prevented  that  vast  but 
unwieldy  empire  from  making  any  vigorous 
effort  to  resist  the  European  invasion.  But 
after  Artaxerxes  had  at  length  crushed  the  un- 
fortunate ambition  of  his  competitors,  and  ac- 
quired firm  possession  of  the  reins  of'  govern- 
ment, which  he  continued  to  hold  for  half  a 
century,2  he  naturally  concerted  proper  mea- 
sures to  defend  his  remaining  dominions  in  Asia 
A C 473  ^nor’  Haying  re-established  the 

Persian  authority  in  the  isle  of 

* Cyprus,  he  considered  that  Pam- 
phylia,  being  the  next  province  to  Lycia,  would 
probably  receive  a speedy  visit  from  the  victo- 
rious Greeks.  That  he  might  meet  them  there 
with  becoming  vigour,  he  assembled  a power- 
ful army  on  the  fertile  banks  of  the  Euryme- 
don.  A fleet  likewise  of  four  hundred  sail, 
was  collected,  chiefly  from  Cilicia,  and  Phoeni- 
cia, and  was  commanded  to  rendezvous  near 
the  mouth  of  that  river. 

The  Greeks,  conducted  by  the  activity  of  Ci- 
mon, delayed  not  to  undertake  the  enterprise 
which  the  prudence  of  Artaxerxes 

ymp.  ^ad  foreseen.  Their  fleet,  amount- 
AXf,11*47ft  *n£  to  tw0  ^un(^re^  anc*  gallies, 

* * * fell  in  with  the  Persian  squadrons 

off  the  coast  of  Cyprus.  The  Barbarians, 
vainly  confident  in  their  superior  numbers,  did 
not  decline  the  engagement,  which  was  obsti- 
nate, fierce,  and  bloody.  Many  of  their  ships 
were  sunk ; a hundred  were  taken  ; the  rest 
fled  in  disorder  towards  the  shore  of  Cyprus ; 
but,  being  speedily  pursued  by  a powerful  de- 
tachment of  the  Grecian  fleet,  were  abandoned 
by  the  terror  of  their  crews,  to  the  victors  ; and 
thus  the  mighty  preparations,  which  the  great 
king  had  raised  with  such  flattering  hopes, 
strengthened  in  one  day,  with  about  three  hun- 
dred sail,  the  hostile  navy  of  Greece.3 

The  vigorous  mind  of  Cimon,  instead  of  be- 
ing intoxicated  with  this  flow  of  prosperity, 
was  less  elevated  with  good  fortune,  than  soli- 
citous to  improve  it.  The  captured  vessels  con- 
tained above  twenty  thousand  Persians.  The 
soldiers  encamped  on  the  Eurymedon  were 
still  ignorant  of  the  battle.  These  circum- 
stances instantly  suggested  to  the  quick  dis- 
cernment of  Cimon  a stratagem  for  surprising 
the  Persian  camp,  which  was  executed  on  the 


1 Plut.  ct  Diodor.  ibid. 

2 Compare  Thucydid.  I.  i.c.  cxxxvii.  and  Usher  Chrotiol. 
See  also  Petav.  de  Doctrin.  Temp.  1.  x.  c.  xxv.  who  endea- 
vours to  reconcile  the  chronological  differences  between 
Thucydides  and  Plutarch  in  Themist. 

3 Thucydid.  Plut.  Diod.  ibid. 


[Chap. 

evening  of  the  same  glorious  day  with  unex- 
ampled success.  The  prisoners  were  stripped 
of  their  eastern  attire;  the  bravest  of  the  Greeks 
condescended  to  assume  the  tiara  and  scimetar, 
and  thus  disguised,  embarked  in  the  Persian 
ships,  and  sailed  up  the  river  Eurymedon  with 
a favourable  gale.  The  unsuspecting  Barba- 
rians received  them  with  open  arms  into  their 
camp,  as  their  long-expected  companions.  But 
the  Greeks  had  no  sooner  been  admitted  within 
the  gates,  than  on  a given  signal,  at  once  draw- 
ing their  swords,  they  attacked,  with  the  con- 
cert of  disciplined  valour,  the  defenceless 
security  of  their  now  astonished  and  trembling 
adversaries.  Before  the  Persians  recovered 
from  their  surprise,  Cimon  had  advanced  to  the 
tent  of  their  general.  Consternation  and  despair 
seized  this  numerous  but  unwarlike  host.  The 
few  who  were  least  overcome  by  the  impressions 
of  fear  and  amazement,  betook  themselves  to 
flight ; a panic  terror  suspended  the  powers  of 
the  rest ; they  remained,  and  fell,  unarmed  and 
unresistingly  the  hands  of  an  unknown  enemy. 

The  rich  spoil  of  the  Barbarian  camp  reward- 
ed the  enterprise  and  celerity  of  the  Greeks, 
who,  loaded  with  wealth  and  glory,  returned 
home  during  winter,  and  piously  dedicated  to 
Apollo  a tenth  of  the  plunder  acquired  by  these 
ever  memorable  achievements.  A considera- 
ble portion  of  the  remainder  was  employed  (as 
mentioned  above)  in  strengthening  the  fortifi- 
cations of  Athens.  Agreeably  to  the  Grecian 
custom,  the  general  was  entitled  to  a valuable 
share.  Cimon  received  it  as  a testimony  of 
the  public  esteem,  and  expended  it  for  the  pub- 
lic use ; embellishing  his  beloved  native  city 
with  shady  walks,  gardens,  porticoes,  schools 
of  exercise,  and  other  works  of  general  plea- 
sure and  utility.4 

After  these  decisive  victories,  the  Greeks 
headed  by  the  Athenians,  carried  on  the  war 
during  twenty-one  years,  rather  for  plunder 
q,  than  glory.  The  manifest  supe- 

lxxvii^4  riority  which  they  enjoyed  on  all 

. the  eastern  shores  of  the  Mediterra- 

* * * nean,  might  have  rendered  their 

maritime  allies  sufficiently  secure.  But  the 
people  of  Athens,  whose  councils  began  about 
this  time  to  be  governed  by  the  magnanimous 
ambition  and  profound  policy  of  Pericles,  had 
the  address  to  persuade  their  confederates  that 
naval  preparations  and  enterprises  were  still  as 
necessary  as  ever.  At  length,  however,  most 
of  those  scattered  islands  and  sea-ports,  which 
followed  the  colours  of  Athens,  grew  weary  of 
perpetual  hostilities,  of  which  they  shared  the 
toil  and  danger,  while  their  ambitious  leaders 
alone  reaped  the  advantage  and  the  glory,  and 
became  continually  more  anxious  to  enjoy  the 
benefits  of  public  peace,  and  the  undisturbed 
comforts  of  domestic  tranquillity.  The  Athe- 
nians availed  themselves  of  this  disposition, 
to  engage  such  states  as  appeared  most  back- 
ward in  raising  their  contingents  for  the  com- 
mon armament,  to  compound  for  personal  ser- 
vice on  shipboard,  by  an  annual  supply  of 
money,  which  might  enable  Athens  continually 
to  keep  in  readiness  a fleet  of  observation,  to 


4 Idem.  ibid,  et  Nepos  in  Cimon.  et  Thucydid.  1.  i. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


155 


XII.] 


watch  and  check  the  motions  of  the  common 
enemy.  This,  at  first  voluntary,  contribution 
soon  amounted  to  about  a hundred  thousand 
pounds.  It  was  gradually  augmented  ; and, 
at  length,  raised  by  Pericles  to  three  times  the 
orginal  sum  ;5  an  immense  income,  considering 
that  the  proportional  value  of  money  to  labour 
was  then  ten  times  higher  than  at  present ; and 
considering  also  the  very  limited  revenues  of 
the  greatest  monarchs  of  antiquity ; since,  from 
all  the  various  provinces  of  the  Persian  empire, 
scarcely  four  millions  sterling  entered  the  royal 
treasury.6 

In  their  easier  expeditions,  the  Greeks  had  an 
opportunity  of  visiting  the  large  and  beautiful 
island  of  Cyprus,  which,  though  delivered  by 
their  valour  from  some  Persian  garrisons,  either 
still  continued,  or  again  became, 

ymp.  subject  to  that  empire.  The  strik- 
^xYj1*4g*g  ing  advantages7  of  a delightful  ter- 
ritory, four  hundred  miles  in  cir- 
cumference, producing  in  great  abundance 
wine,  oil,  with  the  most  delicious  fruits,  and 
deemed  invaluable  in  ancient  times  on  account 
of  its  rich  mines  of  brass,  naturally  tempted  the 
ambition  of  an  enterprizing  nation.  The  con- 
quest of  Cyprus  was  still  farther  recommended 
to  the  Athenians,  as  the  sea-coast  had  been 
peopled  by  a Grecian  colony  under  the  heroic 
Teucer,  who  built  there  a city  called  Salamis 
from  the  name  of  his  native  country,8  which, 
from  the  earliest  antiquity,  had  been  regarded 
as  a dependence  of  Attica.  The  Grecian  in- 
habitants of  Cyprus  had  hitherto  attained 
neither  power  nor  splendour  ; their  settlements 
had  been  successively  reduced  by  the  Phoeni- 
cians and  the  great  king ; and  they  actually 
languished  in  a condition  of  the  greatest  de- 
bility.9 Honour  prompted  the  Athenians  to 
relieve  their  distressed  brethren ; interest  inci- 
ted them  to  acquire  possession  of  a valuable 
island.  With  two  hundred  ships  of  war  they 
prepared  to  undertake  this  important  enterprise, 
when  an  object  still  more  dazzling  gave  a new 
direction  to  their  arms. 

Amidst  the  troubles  which  at- 
lxxviif  'd  *en(led  the  establishment  of  Arta- 

?xT|u*6r  xerxes  on  the  Persian  throne,  the 
* Egyptians  sought  an  opportunity 
to  withdraw  themselves  from  the  yoke  of  a na- 
tion whose^  tyranny  they  had  long  felt  and  la- 
mented. A leader  only  was  wanting  to  head 
the  rebellion.  This  also  was  at  length  disco- 
vered in  Inarus,  a bold  Libyan  chief,  to  whose 
standard  the  malcontents  assembling  from  all 
quarters,  gradually  grew  into  an  army,  which 
attacked  and  defeated  the  Persian  mercenaries, 
expelled  the  garrisons,  banished  or  put  to  death 
the  governors  and  officers  of  the  revenue,  and 
traversing  the  kingdom  without  control  or  re- 
sistance, every  where  proclaimed  the  Egyptians 
a free  and  independent  nation.  Nor  was  this 
the  capricious  revolt  of  short-sighted  Barba- 


5  Thucydid.  ibid,  et  Plut.  in  Pericl. 

6 Herodot.  iii.  95.  In  modern  times  the  precious  metals 
have  so  much  increased  in  ouantity  and  diminished  in  value, 
that  in  1G60  the  revenue  of  Ilindoostan  amounted  to  thirty' 
two  millions  sterling. 

7 Strabo,  p.  648.  8 Tuocrat.  in  Evagor. 

9 Isocrat.  ibid. 


rians.  Inarus  maintained  his  conquest  with 
valour  and  policy ; and  in  order  to  strengthen 
his  interest  by  foreign  alliance,  despatched  an 
embassy  to  Athens,  craving  the  assistance  of 
that  victorious  republic  against  its  most  odious 
and  inveterate  enemy.10 

qj  The  negociation  was  successful ; 

Ixxix  2 Athenians  burned  with  desire 

A C*  463  s^are  *he  SP011S  Persia i and 
commanded  the  ships,  destined  for 
Cyprus,  to  sail  to  Egypt.  They  had  scarcely 
arrived  in  that  kingdom,  when  a Persian  army 
of  three  hundred  thousand  men,  commanded 
by  Achsemenes,  encamped  on  the  banks  of  tho 
Nile.  A battle  speedily  ensued,  in  which  the 
insurgents  obtained  a complete  victory,  chiefly 
through  the  valour  and  discipline  of  their  Gre- 
cian auxiliaries.  The  vanquished  sought  re- 
fuge within  the  walls  of  Memphis ; that  capital 
was  invested  ; and  after  becoming  master  of 
two  divisions  of  the  city,  the  Athenians  pushed 
with  vigour  the  siege  of  the  third,  called,  from 
the  colour  of  its  fortifications,  the  White  Wall. 
Artaxerxes,  mean  while,  neglected  no  possible 
effort,  for  breaking,  or  eluding,  a tempest,  that 
threatened  to  dismember  his  dominions.  While 
Persian  nobles  of  distinction  conveyed  immense 
sums  of  gold  and  silver  into  Greece,  to  rouse, 
by  seasonable  bribes,  the  hostility  of  rival  states 
against  the  audacity  of  Athens,  a new  army 
was  collected,  still  more  numerous  than  the  for- 
mer, and  entrusted  to  Megabazus,  the  bravest 
general  in  the  East.  Such,  at  least,  he  was 
deemed  by  his  countrymen;  yet  we  cannot  per- 
ceive any  very  illustrious  merit  in  forcing  the 
Greeks  to  raise  the  siege  of  Memphis,  the  sol- 
diers being  already  worn  out  with  the  fatigues 
of  hard  service,  and  probably  enfeebled  by 
diseases  in  a far  distant  climate,  extremely  dif 
ferent  from  their  own. 

OlvmD  Megabazus,  however,  had  the 

lxxx  4 Slory  ^rst  tui’ning  against  the 
A C 457  ^ree^s  that  current  of  success 
which  had  run  for  many  years  so 
strongly  in  their  favour.  They  and  the  revolted 
Egyptians  were  now  besieged,  in  their  turn,  in 
a small  island  of  the  Nile  called  Prosopis,  along 
the  coast  of  which  the  Athenians  had  anchored 
their  ships.  By  diverting  the  course  of  the 
river,  Megabazus  left  them  on  dry  land.  This 
operation  so  much  confounded  the  Egyptians, 
that  they  immediately  laid  down  their  arms : 
but  their  wonted  magnanimity  did  not  forsake 
the  Greeks  : with  their  own  hands  they  set  fire 
to  their  fleet,  and  exhorting  each  other  to  suffer 
nothing  unworthy  of  their  former  fame,  deter- 
mined, with  one  accord,  to  resist  the  assailants, 
and  although  they  could  not  expect  victory,  to 
purchase  an  honourable  tomb.  Megabazus,  in- 
timidated by  their  countenance  and  resolution, 
and  unwilling  to  expose  his  men  to  the  efforts 
of  a dangerous  despair,  granted  them  a capitu- 
lation, and,  what  seems  more  extraordinary  in 
a Persian,  commander,  allowed  them  to  retire 
in  safety.  They  endeavoured  to  penetrate 
through  Libya  to  the  Grecian  colonies  in  Cy- 
renaica,  from  which  they  hoped  to  be  trans- 
ported by  sea  to  their  native  country.  But  the 


10  Thucydid.  I.  i.  ot  Diodor.  1.  xi.  p.  279. 


156 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


greater  part  perished  tlirough  fatigue  or  disease 
in  the  inhospitable  deserts  of  Africa,  and  only  a 
miserable  remnant  of  men,  whose  bravery  de- 
served a better  fate,  revisited  the  shores  of 
Greece.  To  complete  the  disaster,  a reinforce- 
ment of  sixty  ships,  which  the  Athenians  had 
sent  to  Egypt,  was  attacked,  surrounded,  and 
totally  destroyed  by  the  Phoenicians,  near  the 
same  scene  which  had  already  proved  so  fatal, 
but  so  honourable,  to  their  countrymen.1 
OlvmD  These  repeated  misfortunes,  to- 

Ixxxii  3 gether  with  the  growing  troubles  in 
A C Wo  ^reece’  which  we  shall  speedily 
have  occasion  to  describe,  prevent- 
ed the  Athenians,  during  seven  years,  from  re- 
viving their  design  against  Cyprus.  A fleet  of 
two  hundred  sail  was  at  length  entrusted  to 
Cimon,  who  enjoyed  a prosperous  voyage  to 
the  Cyprian  coast.  The  towns  of  Malos  and 
Citium  opposed  a feeble  resistance,  and  the 
singular  humanity  with  which  Cimon  treated 
his  prisoners,  would  have  facilitated  more  im- 
portant conquests:  but  the  Phoenician  and 
Cilician  fleets  had  again  put  to  sea,  and  Cimon 
wisely  determined  to  attack  them  as  they 
approached  the  island,  rather  than  wait  their 
arrival,  his  countrymen  being  superior  to  their 
enemies,  still  more  in  naval  than  in  military 
prowess.  In  the  battle  wlfich  soon  followed, 
he  took  above  a hundred  galleys;  the  number 
of  those  sunk  or  destroyed  is  unknown ; the 
remainder  fled  to  the  coast  of  Cilicia,  in  hopes 
of  protection  from  the  army  of  Megabazus, 
encamped  in  that  province ; but  that  slow  un- 
wieldy body  was  unable  to  afford  them  any 
seasonable  or  effectual  relief.  The  Greeks, 
having  pursued  them  on  shore,  totally  destroyed 
them , as  well  as  the  Persian  detachments  who 
came  to  their  succour,  and  returned  loaded 
ivith  spoil  to  Cyprus.  The  Athenian  general 
then  prepared  to  form  the  siege  of  Salamis, 
which,  though  defended  by  a numerous  Persian 
garrison,  and  well  provided  with  all  the  neces- 
saries of  defence,  must  have  soon  yielded  to 
his  skill  and  valour,  had  not  sickness,  in  con- 
sequence of  a wound  received  before  the  walls 
of  Citium,  prevented  him  from  exerting  his 
usual  activity. 

q.  Mean  while  Artaxerxes,  who  per- 

lxxxii  4 ceived  that  the  acquisition  of  Sala- 
A C *449  m*s  wou^  naturally  draw  after  it 
the  conquest  of  the  whole  island, 
and  who  had  been  continually  disappointed  in 
expecting  to  prepare  fleets  and  armies  capable 
to  contend  with  the  Athenians,  eagerly  solicited 
peace  from  that  people,  almost  on  their  own 
terms.  His  ambassadors  were  favourably  heard 
in  the  Athenian  assembly  by  those  who  were 
more  solicitous  about  confirming  their  usurpa- 
tions over  their  allies  ancl  colonies,  than  am- 
bitious of  extending  their  Asiatic  conquests. 
Cimon,  who  invariably  maintained  the  contrary 
system,  was  now  no  more.  A peace,  therefore, 
was  concluded  on  the  following  conditions  :2 
That  all  the  Greek  colonies  in  Lower  Asia 
should  be  declared  independent  of  the  Persian 
empire ; that  the  armies  of  the  great  king  should 
not  approach  within  three  days’  journey  of  the 


[Chap. 

western  coast;  and  that  no  Persian  vessel 
should  appear  between  the  Cyanean  rocks  and 
the  Chelidonian  isles,  that  is,  in  the  wide  ex- 
tent of  the  iEgean  and  Mediterranean  seas,  be- 
tween the  northern  extremity  of  the  Thracian 
Bosphorus  and  the  southern  promontory  of 
Lycia.  On  such  terms  the  Athenians  and  their 
allies  stipulated  to  withdraw  their  armament 
from  Cyprus,  and  to  abstain  thenceforward 
from  molesting  the  territories  of  the  king  of 
Persia.3  Such  was  the  conclusion  of  this  me- 
morable war,  which,  since  the  burning  of  Sar- 
dis, the  first  decisive  act  of  hostility,  had  beet* 
carried  on,  with  little  intermission,  during  fifty 
one  years.  The  same  magnanimous  republic, 
which  first  ventured  to  oppose  the  pretensions 
of  Persia,  dictated  to  that  haughty  empire  the 
most  humiliating  conditions  of  peace;  an  im- 
portant and  illustrious  era  in  Grecian  history, 
which  was  often  celebrated  with  pompous 
panegyric  during  the  declining  ages  of  Athe- 
nian glory. 

Although,  for  reasons  which  will  be  explained 
hereafter,  peace  was  alike  necessary  to  both 
parties,  yet  the  reader,  who  feels  a warm  inter- 
est in  the  cause  of  civilization  and  humanity, 
cannot  but  regret  that,  after  disgracing  the  arms 
of  Persia,  and  breaking  the  power  of  Carthage, 
the  Greeks  had  not  combined  in  one  powerful 
exertion,  and  extended  their  victories  and  their 
improvements  over  the  ancient  world.  But  the 
internal  defects  in  her  political  constitution, 
which  stunted  the  growth  of  Greece,  and  pre- 
vented her  manhood  and  maturity  from  corres- 
ponding to  the  blooming  vigour  of  her  youth, 
rendered  impossible  this  most  desirable  union, 
which,  could  it  have  taken  place,  would  proba- 
bly have  left  little  room  for  the  transient  con- 
quests of  Alexander,  or  the  more  permanent 
glory  of  the  Roman  arms.  Instead  of  these 
imagined  trophies,  the  subsequent  history  of 
Greece  presents  us  with  the  melancholy  pic- 
ture of  intestine  discord. 

During  a hundred  and  eleven  years,  which 
elapsed  between  the  glorious  peace  -with  Persia, 
in  which  the  Athenians,  at  the  head  of  their 
allies,  seemed'  for  ever  to  have  repressed  the 
ambition  of  that  aspiring  power,  and  the  fatal 
defeat  at  Cheronaea,  in  which  the  same  people, 
with  their  unfortunate  auxiliaries,  submitted  to 
the  valour  and  activity  of  Philip,  Greece,  with 
short  variations  of  domestic  quiet  and  foreign 
hostility,  carried  on  bloody  wars,  and  obtained 
destructive  victories,  in  which  her  own  citizens, 
not  the  enemies  of  the  confederacy,  were  the 
unhappy  objects  of  her  inglorious  triumph.  Yet 
the  transactions  of  this  distracted  and  misera- 
ble period,  however  immaterial  in  the  history 
of  empire,  are  peculiarly  interesting  in  the  still 
more  instructive  history  of  human  nature.  A 
confederacy  of  soldiers  and  freemen,  extending 
their  dominion  over  ignorant  savages,  or  ef- 
feminate slaves,  must  continually  exhibit  the 
unequal  combat  of  power,  courage,  and  con- 
duct on  the  one  side,  against  weakness,  igno- 
rance, and  timidity  on  the  other.  But  amidst 
the  domestic  dissensions  of  Greece,  the  ad- 
vantages of  the  contending  parties  were  nicely 


1 Isocrat.de  Pace  etPanogvr.  et  Thucyd.  et  Diodor.  ibid. 

2 Thucydid.  Plutarch.  Diodor.  Isocrat.  &c. 


3 Isocrat.  Panegyr 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


157 


XII.] 

balanced  and  accurately  adjusted.  Force  was 
resisted  by  force,  valour  opposed  by  valour,  and 
art  encountered  or  eluded  by  similar  address. 
The  active  powers  of  man,  excited  by  emula- 
tion, inflamed  by  opposition,  nourished  by  in- 
terest, and  at  once  strengthened  and  elevated 
by  a sense  of  personal  honour  and  the  hope  of 
immortal  fame,  operated  in  every  direction  with 
awakened  energy,  and  were  displayed  in  the 
boldest  exertions  of  the  voice  and  arm.  In 
every  field  where  glory  might  be  won,  men 
recognised  the  proper  objects  of  their  ambition, 
and  aspired  to  the  highest  honours  of  their 
kind;  and  although  the  prizes  were  often 
small,  and  the  victory  always  indecisive,  yet 
the  pertinacious  efforts  of  the  combatants 
(great  beyond  example,  and  almost  beyond 
belief)  furnish  the  most  interesting  spectacle 
that  history  can  present  to  the  rational  wonder 
of  posterity. 

The  powerful  cities  of  Sparta,  Thebes,  and 
Argos,  which  had  long  rivalled  Athens  and 
each  other,  could  not  behold,  without  much 
dissatisfaction  and  anxiety,  the  rapid  growth 
of  a republic  which  already  eclipsed  their 
splendour,  and  might  some  time  endanger  their 
safety.  The  Spartans  had  particular  causes  of 
disgust.  The  immortal  victories  of  Cimon 
made  them  deeply  regret  that  they,  who  had 
shared  the  first  and  severest  toils  of  the  war, 
had  too  hastily  withdrawn  from  a field  of  ac- 
tion that  afforded  so  many  laurels.  They  were 
provoked  at  being  denied  the  command  of  the 
maritime  allies,  and  not  less  offended  at  being 
overreached  by  Themistocles.  All  these  rea- 
sons had  determined  them,  above  twenty  years 
before  the  peace  with  Persia,  to  make  war  on 
the  Athenians,  expecting  to  be  seconded  in  this 
design  by  the  fears  of  the  weak,  and  the  jea- 
lousy of  the  more  powerful,  states,  on  both 
sides  the  Corinthian  isthmus.  But  their  ani- 
mosity, before  it  broke  out  into  action,  was 
diverted  by  a calamity  equally  sudden  and 
p.,  unforeseen.  In  the  year  four  hun- 

, y dred  and  sixty-nine  before  Christ, 

» P " ’ Sparta  was  overwhelmed  by  an 
earthquake.4  Taygetus  and  the 
neighbouring  mountains  were  shaken  to  the 
foundation,  and  twenty  thousand  Lacedaemo- 
nian citizens  or  subjects  perished  in  this  dread- 
ful disaster.  But,  amidst  the  ruins  of  Sparta, 
one  description  of  men  beheld  the  public  mis- 
fortunes not  only  without  horror,  but  with  a 
secret  satisfaction. 

The  oppressed  Spartan  slaves,  known  by  the 
appellation  of  Helots  and  Messenians,  assem- 
bled in  crowds  from  the  villages  in  which  they 
were  cantoned,  and  took  measures  for  deliver- 
ing themselves  during  the  cruelty  of  the  ele- 
ments, from  the  not  less  inexorable  cruelty  of 
their  unfeeling  tyrants.  The  prudent  disposi- 
tions of  king  Archidamus,  who,  foreseeing  the 
revolt,  had  summoned  the  citizens  to  arms,  pre- 
vented 4hem  from  getting  immediate  possession 
of  the  capital ; but  they  rendered  themselves 
masters  of  the  ancient  and  strong  fortress 
Ithomd,  from  which  they  continued  many 
vears  to  infest  the  Lacedaemonian  territories. 


4 Thucydid.  lib.  i.  cap.  c.  et  scq.  Diodor.  lib.  xi.  cap.  lxiii. 


[ The  Spartans  in  vain  exerted  their  utmost  en- 
deavours to  expel  this  dangerous  intestine  ene- 
! my;  and  in  the  third  year  of  the  war  (for  this 
revolt  is  dignified  in  history  by  the  name  of  the 
Third  Messenian  War,)  they  had  recourse  to 
the  Athenians,  who,  of  all  the  Greeks,  were 
deemed  the  most  skilful  in  sieges.  The  Athe- 
nians, either  not  sufficiently  acquainted  with 
the  secret  hostility  of  Sparta,  or  willing  to  dis- 
semble their  knowledge  of  it,  as  they  were 
then  totally  bent  on  other  projects  and  enter- 
prises, sent  them  the  required  assistance.  The 
besiegers,  however,  met  with  so  little  success, 
that  the  Spartans  dismissed  their  Athenian 
auxiliaries,  on  pretence  indeed  that  their  help 
was  no  longer  necessary ; but,  in  reality,  from  a 
suspicion  that  they  favoured  the  interest  of  the 
rebels;  and,  as  they  retained  the  troops  of  all 
the  other  allies,  the  Athenians  were  justly  pro- 
voked by  this  instance  of  distrust.5  Mean 
while  the  inhabitants  of  Pisa,  who,  for  a reason 
that  will  be  immediately  explained,  were  highly 
incensed  against  Sparta,  gave  vigorous  assist- 
ance to  the  besieged. 

q.  The  place  thus  held  out  ten 

lxxx  2 years:  many  sallies  were  made, 
A c i'Q  several  battles  were  fought  with 
D ‘ the  fury  that  might  be  expected 
from  the  cruelty  of  tyrants  chastising  the  inso- 
lence of  slaves.  Both  parties  must  have  been 
reduced  to  extremity,  since  the  Helots  and 
Messenians,  though  obliged  to  surrender  the 
place,  obtained  from  the  weakness,  a condition 
which  they  would  have  vainly  solicited  from 
the  mercy  of  Sparta,  “that  they  should  be 
allowed,  with  their  wives,  children,  and  effects, 
to  depart,  unmolested,  from  the  Peloponnesus.” 
The  Athenians,  deeply  resenting  the  affront  of 
suspected  fidelity,  determined  to  mortify  the 
Spartans  by  kindly  receiving  those  needy  fugi- 
tives, whom  they  finally  established  in  Nau- 
pactus,  a sea-port  on  the  Crissean  gulf,  which 
their  arms  had  justly  wrested  from  the  Locri 
Ozolee;  a cruel  and  barbarous  people,  whose 
savage  manners  and  rapacity  disgraced  their 
Grecian  extraction.  The  Helots  and  Messe- 
nians repaid,  by  signal  gratitude,  the  humane 
protection  of  Athens.  During  the  long  course 
of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  while  their  neigh- 
bours on  every  side  espoused  the  opposite 
interest,  the  inhabitants  of  Naupactus  alone 
invariably  exerted  themselves,  with  zeal  and 
vigour,  in  defence  of  the  declining  power  of 
their  magnanimous  confederate  and  ancient 
benefactor. 

The  cause  above  alluded  to,  which  had  in- 
censed the  Pisans  against  Sparta,  dated  beyond 
a century.6  That  people  had  long  contended 
with  Elis,  the  capital  of  their  province,  for  the 
right  of  superintending  the  Olympic  games. 
The  Spartans  enabled  the  Elians  to  prevail  in 
the  contest,  who  continued,  without  opposi- 
tion, to  direct  that  august  solemnity,  until  the 
earthquake  and  subsequent  calamities  of  Sparta 
emboldened  the  insolent  and  wealthy  Pisans 
to  renew  their  pretensions.7  Their  attempts, 
however,  to  maintain  this  bold  claim,  especially 


5 Thucydid.  1.  i.  cap.  ci. 

fi  Pnusanias,  1.  vi.  c.  xxii. 

7 Strabo,  1.  viii.  p.  545. 


158 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


after  the  removal  of  the  Helots  and  Messe- 
nians,  appear  to  have  been  alike  feeble  and 
unfortunate.  Pisa  was  taken,  plundered,  and 
so  thoroughly  demolished,  that  not  a vestige, 
and  scarce  the  name,  remained. 

With  the  valuable  booty  acquired 
, in  this  warfare,  the  Elians  exe- 

*Xl’  * cuted  a memorable  undertaking; 

‘ ' ° * having,  in  the  course  of  ten  years,1 

enlarged  and  adorned  the  temple  of  Olympian 
Jupiter,  and  erected  the  celebrated  statue  of 
that  divinity;  a work  which  no  subsequent  age 
could  ever  rival,  and  whose  sublimity  is  said  to 
have  increased  and  fortified  the  popular  super- 
stition.2 This  famous  temple»was  of  the  Doric 
order,  encircled  with  a colonnade,  and  built  of 
the  stone  of  the  country  resembling  Parian 
marble.  From  the  area,  or  ground,  to  the  de- 
coration over  the  gate,  it  reached  sixty-eight 
feet  irf  height ; it  was  ninety-five  feet  broad, 
and  two  hundred  and  thirty  long:  thus  falling 
short  of  the  greatest  modem  temples  in  magni- 
tude, as  much  as  it  excelled  them  in  beauty 
and  the  richness  of  material.  It  was  covered 
with  Pentelican  marble,  cut  in  the  form  of 
brick  tiles.  At  each  extremity  of  the  roof  stood 
a gilded  vase ; in  the  middle  a golden  victory ; 
below  which  was  a shield  embossed  with 
Medusa’s  head,  likewise  of  gold.  Pelops  and 
GEnomaus  were  represented,  on  the  pediment, 
ready  to  begin  the  chariot-race  before  very 
illustrious  spectators,  since  Jupiter  himself  was 
of  the  number.  The  vault  was  adorned  with 
the  battle  of  the  Centaurs  and  Lapithae.  The 
labours  of  Hercules  distinguished  the  principal 
entrance.3 

After  passing  the  brass  gates,  you  discovered 
Iphitus  crowned  by  his  spouse  Echecheiria ; 
from  thence  you  proceeded,  through  a noble 
portico,  to  the  majestic  creation  of  Phidias  the 
Athenian,  which  formed  the  principal  ornament 
of  the  temple,  and  of  Greece.  The  god  was 
sitting  on  a throne,  and  being  sixty  feet  high, 
touched  the  roof  with  his  head  ; and  threatened, 
if  he  moved  himself,  to  shake  in  pieces  that 
noble  edifice,  which,  lofty  and  spacious  as  it 
was,  still  appeared  unworthy  to  contain  him. 
This  vast  colossus  was  composed  of  gold,  taken 
in  the  sack  of  Pisa,  and  of  ivory,  then  almost 
as  precious  as  gold,  which  was  brought  from 
the  East  by  Athenian  merchantmen.  The  god 
had  an  enamelled  crown  of  olive  on  his  head, 
an  image  of  victory  in  his  right  hand,  a bur- 
nished sceptre  in  his  left.  His  robes  and  san- 
dals were  variegated  with  golden  flowers  and 
animals.  The  throne  was  made  of  ivory  and 
ebony,  inlaid  with  precious  stones.  The  feet 
which  supported  it,  as  well  as  the  fillets  which 
joined  them,  were  adorned  with  innumerable 
figures  ; among  which  you  perceived  the  The- 
ban children  torn  by  sphynxes,  together  with 
Apollo  and  Diana  shooting  the  beautiful  and 
once  flourishing  family  of  Niobe.  Upon  the 
most  conspicuous  part  of  the  throne  which  met 
the  eye  in  entering,  you  beheld  eight  statues, 
representing  the  gymnastic  exercises  ; and  the 
beautiful  figure,  whose  head  was  encircled  with 


1 Between  the  years  456  and  446,  A.  C. 

2 Aliquid  receptae  religioni  adjecisse  fertur. 

3 Paimn.  in  Eliac.  p.  303,  et  seq. 


-Pun. 


[Chap. 

a wreath,  resembled  young  Pantarces,  the  fa- 
vourite scholar  of  Phidias,  who,  in  the  contest 
of  the  boys,  had  recently  gained  the  Olympic 
prize.  Besides  the  four  feet,  mentioned  above, 
the  throne  was  supported  by  four  pillars,  placed 
between  them,  and  painted  by  Panaenus,  the 
brother  of  Phidias.  There  that  admirable  art- 
ist had  delineated  the  Hesperides  guarding  the 
golden  apples ; Atlas  painfully  sustaining  the 
heavens,  with  Hercules  ready  to  assist  him ; 
Salamine  with  naval  ornaments  in  her  hand  ; 
and  Achilles  supporting  the  beautiful  expiring 
Penthesilea. 

It  would  be  tedious  to  describe  the  remaining 
ornaments  of  this  celebrated  statue,  and  still 
more  of  the  sacred  edifice  itself : yet  the  temple 
of  Olympia  was  much  inferior  in  size  to  that 
of  Ceres  and  Proserpine,  at  Eleusis,  in  Attica. 
The  latter  was  built  by  Ictinus,  the  contempo- 
rary and  rival  of  Phidias  ; and  sufficiently  ca- 
pacious (could  we  believe  the  exaggerations  of 
travellers)  to  contain  thirty  thousand  persons.4 
This  edifice  was  also  of  the  Doric  order ; that 
of  Diana  at  Ephesus,  and  of  Apollo  at  Miletus, 
were  both  of  the  Ionic ; and  the  celebrated  tem- 
ple of  Jupiter  at  Athens,  begun  by  Pisistratus, 
and  enlarged  by  Pericles,  was  finished  in  the 
Corinthian  style,  by  Antiochus  Epiphanes,  king 
of  Syria.  These  four  temples  were  the  richest 
and  most  beautiful  in  the  world,  and  long  re- 
garded as  models  of  the  three  Grecian  orders 
of  architecture.5 

Olvmo  While  the  earthquake  and  the 

lxxviii ' 1 servile  war  confined  within  a do- 
A C 468  mest*c  sPhere  the  activity  of  Sparta, 
Argos,  the  second  republic  of  the 
Peloponnesus,  and  long  the  most  considerable 
principality  in  that  peninsula,  underwent  such 
revolutions  and  misfortunes,  as  left  her  neither 
inclination  nor  power  to  oppose  the  Athenian 
greatness.  Ever  rivals  and  enemies  of  Sparta, 
the  Argives  had  jealously  declined  the  danger 
and  glory  of  the  Persian  war,  to  the  success  of 
which  their  adversaries  had  so  eminently  con- 
tributed. This  ungenerous  dereliction  passed 
not  unpunished.  As  deserters  of  the  common 
cause,  the  Argives  incurred  the  hatred  and  con- 
tempt of  their  public-spirited  neighbours.  My- 
cenae, once  the  proud  residence  of  royal  Aga- 
memnon, Epidaurus,  and  Traezene,  which 
formed  respectively  the  greatest  strength  and 
ornament  of  the  Argive  territory,  threw  off 
the  yoke  of  a capital,  whose  folly  or  baseness 
rendered  her  unworthy  to  govern  them.  Si- 
cyon,  Nauplia,  Heliaea,  and  other  towns  of  less 
note,  which  were  scattered  at  small  distances 
over  the  face  of  that  delightful  province,  obey- 
ed the  summons  to  liberty,  and  assumed  inde- 
pendence. The  rebels  (for  as  such  they  were 
treated  by  the  indignant  magistrates  of  Argos) 
strengthened  themselves  by  foreign  alliance, 
and  continued  thenceforth  to  disdain  the  au- 
thority of  their  ancient  metropolis  and  sove- 
reign. At  the  commencement  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesian war,  they  formed  a respectable  portion 
of  the  Lacedaemonian  confederacy ; while  Ar- 
gos alone,  of  all  the  cities  in  the  Peloponne- 
sus, openly  espoused  the  cause  of  the  Athenians. 


4 Strabo.  1.  ix.  p.  395. 


5 Vitruvius,  1.  vii 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


159 


XII.] 

The  ancient  city  of  Mycenae,  which  had  first 
sounded  the  trumpet  of  sedition,  was  the  only 
victim  of  Argive  resentment.  The  Argives 
seized  a favourable  opportunity,  while  the  allies 
and  adherents  of  Mycenae  were  occupied  with 
their  domestic  concerns,  to  lead  their  whole 
forces  against  the  place  ; and  having  taken  it 
bjr  storm,  they  decimated  the  inhabitants,  and 
demolished  not  only  the  walls,  but  the  town6 
itself,  which  was  never  afterwards  rebuilt. 

The  desultory  transactions  of  so  many  states 
and  cities  as  composed  the  name  and  nation  of 
Greece,  must  appear  a continual  maze  of  per- 
plexity and  confusion,  unless  we  carefully  fol- 
low the  threads  which  should  direct  us  in  this 
intricate,  yet  not  inextricable,  labyrinth.  But 
if  we  seriously  apply  ourselves  to  investigate 
the  hidden  cause  of  events,  and  to  trace  revolu- 
tions to  their  source,  we  shall  be  surprised  by 
the  agreeable  discovery,  that  the  history  of  this 
celebrated  people  is  not  entirely  that  mass  of 
disorder  which  it  appears  on  a superficial  sur- 
vey. The  same  causes  wThich  repressed  the  ac- 
tivity, and  humbled  the  pride  of  Argos,  operat- 
ed alike  fatally  on  Thebes,  the  second  republic 
beyond  the  isthmus,  and  the  only  one  that  ever 
aspired  to  rival  the  power  of  Athens.  The 
Thebans,  for  similar,  or  more  odious  reasons, 
than  those  which  had  restrained  the  Argives, 
had  also  withheld  their  assistance  in  the  Per- 
sian war ; and  by  this  mean  selfishness  or 
treachery  had  justly  provoked  the  indignation 
of  the  subordinate  cities  of  Boeotia.  Not  only 
Thespise  and  Plataea,  which  had  ever  borne 
with  impatience  the  Theban  yoke,  but  the  sea- 
ports of  Aulis,  Anthemon,  and  Larymna  ; As- 
chra,  the  beloved  habitation  of  old  Hesiod  ; 
Coronea,  overshadowed  by  mount  Helicon,  a 
favourite  seat  of  the  Muses;  Labadea,  famous 
for  its  oracle  of  Trophonius ; Delium  and  Alal- 
komene,  respectively  sacred  to  Apollo  and  Mi- 
nerva, together  with  Leuctra  and  Chaeronaea, 
the  destined  scenes  of  immortal  victories ; all 
these  cities  successively  rejected  the  jurisdic- 
tion and  sovereignty  of  Thebes,  which,  during 
the  invasion  of  Xerxes,  had  so  shamefully  be- 
trayed the  common  interest  and  glory  of  the 
nation.7 

During  several  years,  the  Thebans  patiently 
yielded  to  a storm,  which  they  found  it  impos- 
sible to  resist.  But  when  the  Spartans  began 
to  breathe  after  the  recovery  of  Ithome,  and 
p.,  had  made  a successful  expedition 

i ^ 9"  against  the  Phocians,  in  defence  of 
AXC  459  ^le‘r  kinsmen  Dorisi  the  The- 
bans warmly  solicited  them  to  take 
part  in  their  domestic  quarrels,  and  to  enable 
them  to  regain  their  ascendant  in  Boeotia; 
with  assurance  that  they  would  employ  the 
first  moments  of  returning  vigour  to  oppose  the 
growing  pretensions  of  the  Athenians.  This 
proposal  was  accepted,  not  only  by  the  resent- 
ment, but  by  the  policy,  of  the  Spartan  senate, 
who  perceived,  that  it  equally  concerned  their 
interest,  that  the  neighbouring  city  of  Argos 
should  lose  her  jurisdiction  over  Argolis  ; and 
that  Thebes,  the  neighbour  and  rival  of  Athens, 
should  recover  her  authority  in  Boeotia. 


6 Diodor.  1.  xi.  p.  276. 

7 Diodor.  1.  xi.  p.  283.  et  seq.  et  Thucydid.  I.  i.  p.  273. 


They  were  applying  themselves  with  vigour 
and  success  to  effect  this  salutary  purpose, 
when  the  active  vigilance  of  Athens  despatched 
an  army,  fifteen  thousand  strong,  to  maintain 
the  independence  of  Boeotia.  The  valour  and 
conduct  of  Myronides,  the  Athenian  general, 
^ £ obtained  a decisive  victory  near  the 

458  *156  wa^s  Tanagra,  one  of  the  few 
places  in  the  province  which  had 
preserved  its  fidelity  to  the  capital.  This  me- 
morable battle,  which  no  ancient  writer  has 
thought  proper  to  describe,  although  it  is  com- 
pared to  the  glorious  trophies  of  Marathon  and 
Plataea,8  confirmed  the  liberty  of  Boeotia  ; nor 
could  the  Thebans,  notwithstanding  their  par- 
tial success  against  several  of  the  revolted  cities, 
recover  their  authority  in  that  province,  until, 
about  fourscore  years  afterwards,  they  emerg- 
ed into  sudden  splendour  under  the  conduct 
of  their  heroic  Epaminondas. 

The  ambitious  policy  of  Pericles,  which  will 
be  fully  explained  in  the  sequel,  was  eager  to 
profit  by  every  favourable  turn  of  fortune.  He 
took  care  to  place  Athenian  garrisons  in  several 
Boeotian  fortresses  ; he  made  the  neighbouring 
A C 455  rePu^^cs  Corinth  and  Megara 
, ’ feel  and  acknowledge  the  supe- 
riority of  Athens ; and  after  sending  Tolmi- 
das,  a commander  endued  rather  with  an  impe- 
tuous than  well  regulated  courage,  to  ravage 
A C 4r4  ^ie  coas*'  ^ie  P^opoHnesus,  he 
sailed  thither  next  year  in  person, 
and  made  the  Lacedaemonians  and  their  allies 
deeply  regret,  that  they  had  too  soon  discover- 
ed their  animosity  against  a republic,  alike  ca- 
pable to  protect  its  friends  and  take  vengeance 
on  its  enemies.  The  measures  of  this  daring 
leader  were  actually  uncontrolled  by  any  op- 
position, since  his  eloquence  had  prevailed 
over  the  innocence  and  merit  of  Cimon,  and 
procured  the  banishment  of  that  illustrious 
commander.  But  Cimon  was  recalled  in  two 
years;  and  his  return  was  signalized  by  a sus- 
pension of  arms  in  Greece,  which  that  real  pa- 
triot had  been  as  zealous  to  promote,  as  he  was 
A C 447  ambitious  1°  pursue  his  Asiatic  tri- 
umphs. This  treaty,  however,  was 
soon  broke;  but  an  ill-concerted  and  unfortu- 
nate enterprise  against  Thebes  (disapproved  by 
Pericles  himself,)  in  which  the  rash  Tolmidas 
lost  his  army  and  his  life,  made  the  Athenians 
again  listen  to  terms  of  accommodation.  They 
A C 445  aSreed  1°  withdraw  their  garri- 
sons from  Boeotia ; to  disavow  all 
pretensions  against  Corinth  and  Megara,  pre- 
tensions which  had  no  other  effect  than  to  ex- 
asperate those  little  republics  against  their 
usurping  neighbour ; and,  on  complying  with 
these  conditions,  the  Athenians  recovered  their 
citizens  made  captive  in  Boeotia,  through  the 
misconduct  of  Tolmidas.9 

This  was  the  famous  truce  of  thirty  years, 
j-v.  concluded  in  the  fourteenth  year 

l preceding  the  Peloponnesian  war. 

The  former  treaty  had  been  limited 
’ ’ * to  a much  shorter  period ; for  it  is 

worthy  of  observation,  that  even  in  their  agree- 


8 Diodor.  1.  xi.  p.  284. 

9 Diodor.  1.  xii.  p.  293. 


Thucydid.  I.  i.  p.  71,  et  Beq. 


160 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


merits  of  peace,  the  Greeks  discovered  that  per- 
petual propensity  to  war,  which  was  the  un- 
happy effect  of  their  political  institutions.1 

The  terms  of  this  accommodation,  seemingly 
little  favourable  to  the  interest  of  Athens,  were 
dictated,  however,  rather  by  the  ambition  than 
the  equity  of  that  republic ; a conclusion  that 
evidently  results  from  examining  the  third  se- 
™ . ries  of  events,  which  (as  observed 

the  WeCns  above)  completes  the  history  of 
470^amlS  ^his  memorable  period.  Amidst  the 
410  A C f°reiSn  expeditions  of  Cimon,  and 
’ ' * the  domestic  dissensions  of  Greece, 

the  Athenian  arms  and  policy  had  been  gra- 
dually, during  thirty  years,  establishing  the 
sovereignty  of  the  republic  over  her  distant  co- 
lonies and  confederates.  This  bold  undertaking 
was  finally  accomplished  by  Pericles,  whose 
character  contributed  more  than  that  of  any 
one  man,  to  the  glory  and  greatness,  as  well  as 
to  the  calamities  and  ruin  of  his  country. 

His  father  Xanthippus,  who  gained  the  illus- 
trious victory  at  Mycale,  rejoiced  in  a son  en- 
dued with  the  happiest  natural  talents,  and  an 
innate  love  of  glory.  His  youth  was  entrusted 
to  the  learned  and  virtuous  Damon,  who  con- 
cealed, under  the  uninvidious  title  of  master  of 
rhetoric,  the  art  of  animating  his  pupil  with  an 
ambition  to  deserve  the  first  rank  in  the  repub- 
lic, as  well  as  of  adorning  him  with  the  accom- 
plishments most  necessary  to  attain  it.  From 
Aristagoras  of  Clazomene,  denominated  the 
philosopher  of  mind,  on  account  of  his  con- 
tinual solicitude  to  confirm  the  most  important 
and  most  pleasing  of  all  doctrines,  that  a be- 
nevolent intelligence  presides  over  the  opera- 
tions of  nature,  and  the  events  of  human  life, 
Pericles  early  learned  to  control  the  tempest  of 
youthful  passions,  which  so  often  blast  the  pro- 
mising hopes  of  manhood ; to  preserve  an  un- 
shaken constancy  in  all  the  vicissitudes  of  for- 
tune, since  all  are  the  varied  dispensations  of 
the  same  wise  providence;  and  to  trample, 
with  generous  contempt,  on  the  groveling  su- 
perstition of  the  vulgar.  Thus  qualified  by 
nature  and  education,  he  soon  displayed,  in  the 
Athenian  assembly,  an  eloquence,  nourished 
by  the  copious  spring  of  philosophy,  and  enno- 
bled by  the  manly  elevation  of  his  character. 
His  speeches  consisted  not  in  the  unpremedi- 
tated effusions  of  a temporary  enthusiasm  ; he 
was  the  first  of  his  countrymen  who,  before 
pronouncing  his  discourses,  committed  them 
to  writing  :2  they  were  studied  and  composed 
with  the  most  laborious  and  patient  care  ; and 
being  polished  by  repeated  touches  of  correct- 
ing art,  they  rose  in  admiration,  in  proportion 
as  they  were  more  closely  examined  by  the 
piercing  eye  of  criticism ; and  acquired  the 
epithet  of  Olympian,  to  express  that  permanent 
and  steady  lustre  which  they  reflected.3 

But  the  superior  talents  of  Pericles,  which  in 
a well  regulated  government,  would  have  in- 
creased his  influence,  had  well  nigh  occasioned 
his  ruin  in  a turbulent  and  suspicious  demo- 
cracy. The  memory  of  the  oldest  citizens 
faithfully  recollected,  and  the  envy  or  fears  of 


1 Thucyd.  1.  i.  p.  74. 

2 Suidas. 


the  younger  readily  believed,  that  the  figure, 
the  countenance,  and  the  voice,  of  the  young 
orator,  strongly  resembled  those  of  the  ambi- 
tious and  artful  Pisistratus,  whose  specious  vir- 
tues had  subverted  the  liberty  of  his  country. 
The  alarmed  jealousy  of  freedom,  which  often 
destroyed,  in  an  hour,  the  authority  established 
slowly,  and  with  much  labour,  during  many 
meritorious  years,  might  be  tempted  to  punish 
the  imagined  tyranny  of  Pericles ; who,  to  es- 
cape the  disgrace  of  the  ostracism,  shunned  the 
dangerous  admiration  of  the  assembly. 

The  active  vigour  of  his  mind,  thus  with- 
drawn from  politics,  was  totally  directed  to 
war ; and  his  abilities,  alike  fitted  to  excel  in 
every  honourable  pursuit,  and  gradually  open- 
ing with  every  occasion  to  display  them,  carried 
off  the  palm  of  military  renown  from  the  most 
illustrious  captains  of  the  age.  Cimon  alone 
surpassed  him  in  the  object  of  his  victories 
gained  over  Barbarians  ; but  Pericles  equalled 
Cimon  in  valour  and  conduct.  A rivality  in 
warlike  fame  was  followed  by  a competition 
for  civil  honours.  Cimon,  who  had  been  in- 
troduced on  the  theatre  of  public  life  by  the 
virtuous  Aristides,  regarded,  like  that  great 
man,  a moderate  aristocracy,  as  the  govern- 
ment most  conducive  to  public  happiness.  The 
contrary  opinion  was  warmly  maintained  by 
Pericles,  who  found  an  ostentatious  admiration 
of  democracy  the  best  expedient  for  removing 
the  prejudice  excited  against  him,  by  his  resem- 
blance to  Pisistratus,  of  aspiring,  or  at  least  of 
being  capable  to  aspire,  at  royal  power.  On 
every  occasion  he  defended  the  privileges  of 
the  people  against  the  pretensions  of  the  rich 
and  noble  ; he  embraced  not  only  the  interests, 
but  adopted  the  capricious  passions,  of  the 
multitude  ; cherishing  their  presumption,  flat- 
tering their  vanity,  indulging  their  rapacity, 
gratifying  their  taste  for  pleasure  without  ex- 
pense, and  fomenting  their  natural  antipathy  to 
the  Spartans,  who,  as  the  patrons  of  rigid  aris- 
tocracy, were  peculiarly  obnoxious  to  their  re- 
sentment. 

The  condition  of  the  times  powerfully  con- 
spired with  the  views  and  measures  of  Pericles, 
since  the  glory  and  wealth  acquired  in  the  Per- 
sian war,  procured  not  only  allies  and  power 
to  the  state,  but  industry  and  independence  to 
the  populace.  The  son  of  Xanthippus  impel- 
led this  natiiral  current,  which  ran  so  strongly 
in  favour  of  both,  when  he  maintained,  that 
the  citizens  of  Athens  were  entitled  to  enjoy 
equal  advantages  at  home,  to  challenge  a just 
pre-eminence  in  Greece,  and  to  assume  a legal 
dominion  over  their  distant  colonies  and  con- 
federates. 

These  unfortunate  communities  had  un- 
warily forged  their  own  chains,  when  they 
consented  to  raise  an  annual  subsidy  to  main- 
tain the  guardian  navy  of  Athens.  They  per- 
. r ceived  not,  that  this  temporary 

" ’ benevolence  would  be  soon  con- 

~ 44U'  verted  into  a perpetual  tribute, 

since,  in  proportion  as  they  became  unaccus- 
tomed to  war,  they  laid  themselves  at  the  mercy 
of  that  republic,  to  which  they  had  tamely  en- 
trusted the  care  of  their  defence.  When  the 
rigorous  exactions  of  Athens  speedily  warned 


3 Plat,  in  Pericl. 


161 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


XIII.] 

them  of  their  error,  the  wide  intervals  at  which 
they  were  separated  from  each  other,  rendered 
it  impossible  for  them  to  afford  mutual  assist- 
ance, and  to  act  with  united  vigour.  Naxos, 
Thasos,  iEgina,  Euboea,  Samos,  and  other 
islands  or  cities  of  less  importance,  boldly  strug- 
gled to  repel  usurpation  ; but  fighting  singly, 
were  successively  subdued;  while  new,  and 
more  grievous,  burdens  were  cruelly  imposed 
on  them.  The  least  patient  again  murmured, 
petitioned,  rebelled,  and  taking  arms  to  resist 
oppression,  were  treated  with  the  severity  due 
to  unprovoked  sedition.  The  punishment  in- 
flicted on  them  was  uniformly  rigorous.  They 
were  compelled  to  deliver  up  the  authors  of  the 
revolt,  to  surrender  their  shipping ; to  demolish 
their  walls,  or  receive  an  Athenian  garrison,  to 
pay  the  expenses  of  the  war,  and  give  hostages 
for  their  future  obedience.4  It  is  not  the  busi- 
ness of  general  history  to  describe  more  mi- 
nutely the  events  of  this  social  war,  which  was 
carried  on  chiefly  by  Pericles,  and  finished  in 
the  course  of  thirty  years,  with  every  success 
the  most  presumptuous  ambition  of  Athens 
could  either  expect  or  desire.  Samos,  the  capi- 
tal of  the  island  of  that  name,  made  the  most 
vigorous  resistance ; but  at  length  surrendered 
to  Pericles,  after  a siege  of  nine  months,  in 
the  ninth  year  before  the  war  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesus.5 

Historians,  partial  or  credulous,  have  handed 
down  some  atrocious  cruelties  committed  after 
the  taking  of  Samos,  which  may  be  confidently 
rejected  as  fictions,  injurious  to  the  fame  of 
Pericles,  who,  though  he  approved  and  ani- 
mated the  aspiring  genius  of  his  country,  and 
vainly  flattered  himself  that  he  could  justify,  by 
reasons  of  state,  its  most  ambitious  usurpations, 


uniformly  showed  himself  incapable  of  any  de- 
liberate wickedness.  It  may  be  observed,  how- 
ever, that  as  the  moderate  peace  with  Sparta 
had  been  concluded  chiefly  with  a view  to  allow 
the  Athenians  to  apply  their  undivided  atten- 
tion to  the  affairs  of  their  tributaries,  the  seve- 
rities exercised  over  these  unfortunate  states 
were,  in  consequence  of  that  event,  rather  in- 
creased than  mitigated.  Athenian  magistrates 
and  garrisons  were  sent  to  govern  and  com- 
mand them.  They  were  burthened  with  new 
impositions,  and  dishonoured  by  new  badges 
of  servitude.  The  lands,  which  the  labour  of 
their  ancestors  had  cultivated,  were  seized  and 
appropriated  by  strangers,  who  claimed  the 
distinction  of  Athenian  colonies ; and  all  these 
once  independent  and  flourishing  republics 
were  thenceforth  compelled  to  submit  their 
mutual  contests,  their  domestic  differences,  and 
even  their  private  litigations  to  the  cognizance 
and  decision  of  Athenian  assemblies  and  tri- 
bunals.6 By  drawing  thus  closely  the  reiris 
of  government,  Pericles,  in  the  course  of  ten 
years,  brought  into  the  treasury  of  Athens  the 
sum  of  near  two  millions  sterling.7  His  vigi- 
lance seasonably  displayed  the  terrors  of  the 
Athenian  navy  before  the  most  distant  enemies 
or  allies  of  the  republic  ; by  alternate  pliancy 
and  firmness,  by  successive  promises,  bribes, 
and  threats,  he  repressed  the  jealous  hostility 
of  neighbouring  powers  ; and  while  his  ambi- 
tion and  magnificence  fortified  and  adorned  the 
capital  with  external  strength  and  splendour, 
they  also  laid  the  foundations  of  those  internal 
disorders,  which  rendered  his  long  administra- 
tion glorious  for  his  contemporaries,  fatal  to 
the  succeeding  generation,  and  ever  memo- 
rable with  posterity. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Transition  to  the  Internal  State  of  Athens — Laws  of  Draco — Solon — Pisistratus — Clisthenes — 
Aristides — Pericles — Final  Settlement  of  the  Athenian  Government — View  of  the  Athenian 
Empire — The  combined  Effect  of  External  Prosperity  and  Democratic  Government  on  Man- 
ners— Arts — Luxury — History  of  Grecian  Literature  and  Philosophy — Singular  Contrast 
and  Balance  of  Virtues  and  Vices — The  sublime  Philosophy  of  Anaxagoras  and  Socrates — 
The  unprincipled  Captiousness  of  the  Sophists — The  Moral  Tragedies  of  Sophocles  and  Euri- 
pides— The  licentious  Buffoonery  of  Aristophanes — The  imitative  Arts  employed  to  the  noblest 
Purposes — And  abused  to  the  most  Infamous — Magnificence  of  public  Festivals — Simplicity  in 
private  Life — Modest  Reserve  of  Athenian  Women — Voluptuousness , Impudence , and  Artifices 
of  the  School  of  Aspasia. 


rPHE  taking  of  Samos  closed  the  long  series 
of  Athenian  conquests.  During  the  nine 
subsequent  years,  that  once  fortunate  people 
enjoyed  and  abused  the  blessings  of  peace  and 
prosperity.  Their  ostentatious  display  of  power 
increased  the  envy  and  terror  of  Greeks  and 
Barbarians,  and  excited  the  obstinate  and 
bloody  war  of  twenty-seven  years,  during 


4 Thucydid.  et  Diodor.  loc.  citat. 

5 Thucydid.  1.  i.  p.  75. 

6 Isocrat.  do  Pace  ; et  Xenoph.  de  Rcpub.  Athen. 

7 Thucyd.  Diodor.  Isocrat.  Plut.  & c. 

X 


which  the  force  of  the  whole  Grecian  nation 
was  exerted  to  demolish  or  uphold  the  stately 
edifice  of  empire  that  had  been  reared  by  the 
ambitious  patriotism  of  Pericles.  Assisted  by 
feeble  or  reluctant  allies,  Athens  long  struggled 
against  the  combined  strength  of  Peloponnesus, 
Boeotia,  Macedon,  Sicily,  and  Persia ; and  our 
curiosity  must  deservedly  be  attracted  towards 
the  internal  resources  and  moral  condition  of  a 
people,  who,  with  few  natural  advantages, 
could  make  such  memorable  and  pertinacious 
efforts,  and  who,  amidst  the  din  of  arms,  still 


162 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


cultivating  and  improving  their  favourite  arts, 
produced  those  immortal  monuments  of  taste 
and  genius,  which,  surviving  the  destruction 
of  their  walls,  navy,  and  harbours,  have  ever 
attested  the  glory  of  Athens,  and  the'  impotent 
vengeance  of  her  enemies.  In  an  inquiry  of 
this  kind,  the  science  of  government  and  laws, 
which  gives  security  to  all  other  sciences, 
merits  the  first  place  in  our  attention  ; nor,  at 
this  distance  of  time,  will  the  enlightened  reader 
contemplate  with  indifference  the  laws  of 
Athens,  which  having  been  incorporated1  into 
the  Roman  jurisprudence  about  the  middle  of 
the  fifth  century  before  Christ,  served,  after  an 
interval  of  above  sixteen  hundred  years,  to 
abolish  the  barbarous  practices  of  the  Gothic 
nations,  and  to  introduce  justice,  security,  and 
refinement,  among  the  modem  inhabitants  of 
Europe.2 

The  admirable  institutions  of  the  heroic 
ages  were  built  on  religion  ; which,  as  we  have 
fully  explained  above,  ascertained  and  enforced 
the  rights  and  obligations  of  public  and  private 
life.  But  the  abused  authority  of  priests  and 
oracles,  and  the  natural  depravity  of  man,  ever 
solicitous  to  obtain  the  partial  favour  of  his 
heavenly  protectors  on  easier  terms  than  the 
faithful  discharge  of  his  duty,  gradually  se- 
vered, by  fraud  or  violence,  the  natural  and 
most  salutary  union  between  religion  and  mo- 
rality ; in  consequence  of  which  separation,  the 


1 The  Homans  sent  deputies  to  Athens,  to  obtain  a copy 
of  Solon’s  laws,  four  hundred  and  fifty-four  years  before 
Christ.  The  benefits  derived  from  these  salutary  institu- 
tions were  gratefully  acknowledged  by  the  liberal  candour 
of  a people,  who  knew  how  to  appreciate  the  merit  of  ene- 
mies and  subjects.  Hear  the  language  of  Pliny  (1-  viii.  ep. 
24.)  to  Maximus,  who  in  the  reign  of  Trajan  was  appointed 
governor  of  the  province  of  Achaia,  or  Greece : “ Remem- 
ber that  you  go  to  a country,  where  letters,  politeness,  and 
agriculture  itself  (if  we  believe  common  report,)  were  in- 
vented . . . Revere  the  gods  and  heroes,  the  ancient 
virtue  and  glory  of.the  nation.  Respect  even  its  fables  and 
its  vanity ; remembering  that  from  Greece  we  derived  our 
laws.  The  right  of  conquest,  indeed,  hath  enabled  us  to 
impose  our  laws  on  the  Greeks ; but  that  people  had  first 
given  us  their  laws,  at  our  solicitation,  and  when  they  had 
nothing  to  fear  from  the  power  of  our  arms.  It  would  be 
inhuman  and  barbarous  to  deprive  them  of  the  small  rem- 
nant of  liberty  wbicb  they  still  possess.” 

2 Justinian’s  Pandects,  it  is  well  known,  were  discovered 
at  Amalfi,  in  Italy,  A.  D.  1130.  In  less  than  half  a century 
afterwards,  the  civil  law  was  studied  and  understood  in  all 
the  great  provinces  of  Europe  ; and  this  study  (as  Mr.  Hume 
observes,  Reign  of  Richard  the  Third)  tended  to  sharpen  the 
wits  of  men,  to  give  solidity  to  their  judgment,  to  improve 
their  taste,  and  to  abolish  the  barbarous  jurisprudence 
which  universally  prevailed  among  the  Gothic  nations.  To 
this  law  we  owe  the  abolition  of  the  mode  of  proof  by  the 
ordeal,  the  corsnet,  the  duel,  and  other  methods  equally 
ridiculous  and  absurd.  Pecuniary  commutations  ceased  to 
be  admitted  for  crimes ; private  revenge  was  no  longer  au- 
thorised by  the  magistrate  ; and  the  community  was  made 
to  feel  its  interest  in  maintaining  the  rights,  and  avenging 
the  wrongs,  of  all  its  members.  See  more  in  the  admirable 
discourse  annexed  to  the  Reign  of  Richard  the  Third.  I 
shall  add  but  one  observation,  in  Mr.  Hume’s  own  words: 
“The  sensible  utility  of  the  Roman  law,  both  to  public  and 
private  interest,  recommended  the  study  of  it,  at  a time 
when  the  more  exalted  and  speculative  sciences  carried  no 
charms  with  them;  and  thus  the  last  branch  of  ancient  lite- 
rature which  remained  uncorrupted,  was  happily  the  first 
transmitted  to  the  modern  world:  for  it  is  remarkable,  that 
in  the  decline  of  Roman  learning,  when  the  philosophers 
were  universally  infected  with  superstition  and  sophistry, 
and  the  poets  and  historians  with  barbarism,  the  lawyers, 
who,  in  other  countries,  are  seldom  models  of  science  or 
politeness,  were  yet  able,  by  the  constant  study  and  close 
imitation  of  their  predecessors,  to  maintain  the  same  good 
sense  in  their  decisions  and  reasonings,  and  the  same  purity 
in  their  language  and  expression.”  Hume’s  Hist.  3d  vol. 
8vo.  p.  300. 


[Chap. 

former  degenerated  into  an  illiberal  supersti- 
tion, and  the  latter  relaxed  into  licentiousness, 
or  stiffened  into  pedantry.  The  striking  com- 
parison, or  rather  contrast,  between  the  genius 
and  character,  the  virtues  and  vices,  of  the 
Greeks,  as  variously  described  by  Homer  and 
by  Solon,  and  which  is  so  much  to  the  advan- 
tage of  the  earlier  period,  must,  in  the  progress 
of  this  discourse,  naturally  present  itself  to  the 
reflection  of  the  attentive  reader,  and  will  set 
in  the  clearest  point  of  view  the  unhappy  re- 
volution of  manners,  which  time  and  accident 
had  produced  in  the  wide  interval  between  the 
poet  and  the  legislator. 

The  very  imperfect  legislation  of  Draco,3 
who  flourished  thirty  years  before  Solon,4 
proved  that  the  Athenians  felt  the 
y mP*  want  of  a science,  which  they  knew 

XXXIX.  1.  J 


A.  C.  624. 


not  how  to  acquire  or  cultivate. 


The  austere  gravity  of  that  magis- 
trate seems  to  have  imposed  on  the  easy  cre- 
dulity of  the  multitude ; for  his  ignorance  or 
severity  were  alike  unworthy  of  the  important 
office  with  which  he  was  entrusted.  He  gave 
laws,  which,  according  to  the  lively  expression 
of  an  orator,  seemed  to  be  written,5  not  with 
ink,  but  with  blood ; since  death  or  banishment 
were  his  ordinary  penalties  for  the  most  trivial 
offences,  as  well  as  for  the  most  dangerous 
crimes : and  he  justified  this  rigour,  by  ab- 
surdly observing,  that  the  smallest  disorders 
deserved  death,  and  no  severer  punishment 
could  be  inflicted  on  the  greatest.  The  laws 
of  Draco,  therefore,  tended  only  to  increase  the 
evils  which  they  were  designed  to  remedy;6 
and  no  people  ever  presented  a scene  of  greater 
confusion  and  misery,  than  did  the  unhappy 
Athenians,  when  the  abilities  and  virtues  of 
Solon  were  seasonably  called  to  their  relief. 

In  relating  the  general  revolutions  of  Greece, 
wTe  had  occasion. to  describe  the  im- 
portant  services,  and  illustrious 
A.VC  594  mer^’  extraordinary  man, 

* ’ ’ whose  disinterestedness,  patriotism, 

and  humanity,  equalled  his  militjfry  conduct 
and  success.  His  royal  extraction  (for  he 
sprang  from  the  race  of  the  Codridae,)  his  ex- 
perienced abilities,  above  all,  his  approved  wis- 
dom and  equity,  pointed  him  out  for  the  no- 
blest and  most  sublime  employment  of  huma- 
nity, that  of  regulating  the  laws  and  govern- 
ment of  a free  people.  Such,  at  least,  the 
Athenians  may  be  considered,  when  their  una- 
nimous suffrage  rendered  Solon  the  absolute 
umpire  of  their  whole  constitution  and  policy  ; 
although,  prior  to  this  period,  they  suffered  the 
combined  evils  of  anarchy  and  oppression.7 
The  magistrates  plundered  the  treasury  and 
the  temples ; and  often  betrayed,  for  bribes,  the 
interests  of  their  country.  The  rich  tyrannised 
over  the  poor,  the  poor  continually  alarmed 
the  safety  of  the  rich.  The  rapacity  of  credi- 


3 Saidas  in  voce  Draco.  Pollux,  1.  viii.  c.  vi. 

4 Meursius,  Solon. 

5 The  orator  Demades,  of  whom  more  hereafter.  The 
observation  has  been  always  repeated  in  speaking  of  Draco, 
though  his  laws  were  certainly  written  neither  with  blood 
nor  ink.  Even  those  of  Solon  were  only  engraved  on  tables 
kept  in  the  citadel. 

fi  Aristot.  de  Civl.  ii.  ct  Plut.  in  Solon. 

7 Fragm.  Solonis  apud  Demosth.  p.  234.  edit.  Wol. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


163 


XIII.] 

tors  knew  no  bounds.  They  compelled  the  in- 
solvent debtors  to  cultivate  their  lands,  like 
cattle ; to  perform  the  service  of  beasts  of  bur- 
den ; and  to  transfer  to  them  their  sons  and 
daughters,  whom  they  exported  as  slaves  to 
foreign  countries.  Solon,  with  a laudable 
vanity,  boasts  of  having  recovered  and  restored 
to  their  native  rights  many  of  those  unliappy 
men,  whose  sentiments  had  been  debased,  and 
language  corrupted,  by  the  infamy  of  Barba- 
rian servitude.3  The  wretched  populace,  de- 
riving courage  from  despair,  had  determined 
no  longer  to  submit  to  such  multiplied  rigours ; 
and  before  the  wisdom  of  the  lawgiver  inter- 
posed, they  had  taken  the  resolution  to  elect 
and  follow  some  warlike  leader,  to  attack  and 
butcher  their  oppressors,  to  establish  an  equal 
partition  of  lands,  and  to  institute  a new  form 
of  government.8 9 *  But  the  numerous  clients 
and  retainers,  who,  in  a country  little  ac- 
quainted with  arts  and  manufactures,  depend- 
ed on  the  wealthy  proprietors  of  lands  and 
mines  of  Attica,  must  have  rendered  this  un- 
dertaking alike  dangerous  to  both  parties ; so 
that  both  became  willing  rather  to  submit  their 
differences  to  law,  than  to  decide  them  by  the 
sword. 

The  impartiality  of  Solon  merited  the  un- 
limited confidence  of  his  country.  He  main- 
tained the  ancient  division  of  property,  but 
abolished  debts.  He  established  the  rate  of 
interest  at  12  per  cent.,  at  which  it  afterwards 
remained ; but  forbade,  that  the  insolvent 
debtor  should  become  the  slave  of  his  creditor, 
or  be  compelled  to  sell  his  children  into  servi- 
tude. After  these  preliminary  regulations, 
which  seemed  immediately  necessary  to  the 
public  peace,  Solon  proceeded,  with  an  impar- 
tial and  steady  hand,  to  new-inodel  the  govern- 
ment on  this  generous,  but  equitable  princi- 
ple, that  the  few  ought  not,  as  hitherto,  to 
eommand,  and  the  many  to  obey  ; but  that  the 
collective  body  of  the  people,  legally  convened 
in  a national  assembly,  were  entitled  to  decide, 
by  a plurality  of  voices,  the  alternatives  of 
peace  and  war;  to  contract  or  dissolve  alliances 
with  foreign  states ; to  enjoy  all  the  branches 
of  legislative  or  sovereign  power ; 11  and  to  elect, 


8 Idem,  ibid.  9 Plut.  in  Solon. 

10  The  most  correct  information  concerning  the  ancient 
republic  of  Athens,  and  the  laws  of  SoJon,  is  contained  in 

Arislot.  Fragm.  de  Civit.  Athen.  and  in  various  parts  of  his 
second,  fourih,  and  sixth  books  of  Politics.  2.  In  Isocrat. 
Areopagit.  Panathen.  and  Panegyr.  And  3.  In  Plut.  in 
Vit.  Solon.  Xenophon’s  Treatise  concerning  the  Athenian 
republic  relates  to  later  times,  when  many  corruptions  had 
crept  in,  as  will  be  afterwards  explained.  It  is  remarkable, 
that  Polybius,  1.  vi.  has  confounded  the  moderate  institu- 
tions of  Solon  with  the  democratical  licentiousness  and  ty- 
ranny introduced  by  Pericles  and  his  successors  in  the  ad- 
ministration. The  palpable  errors  of  so  judicious  an  author 
prove  how  little  accurate  knowledge  the  Greeks  possessed 
on  the  subject  of  their  own  history  ; and  how  impossible  it 
is  for  a modern  writer,  who  blindly  follows  such  guides,  not 
to  fall  into  innumerable  errors  and  contradictions.  The 
treatise  of  Aristotle  (de  Civitate)  above  mentioned,  de- 
serves particular  attention  from  those  who  write  or  study 
.he  history  of  republics.  In  it  we  see  the  germ,  and  often 
more  than  the  germ,  of  the  political  works  of  Machinvcl, 
which  Montesquieu  has  so  often  copied,  without  once  ac- 
knowledging his  obligation. 

11  The  election  contained  a mixture  of  chance,  since 
those  who  were  named  by  the  people  cast  lots  to  decide  on 
whom  the  office  should  be  conferred.  The  same  practice 

Erevails  in  choosing  the  senators  of  the  republic  of  Berne, 
lut  Solon  enacted,  that  the  fortunate  candidate  should  un- 


approve, and  judge  the  magistrates  or  minis- 
ters entrusted,  for  a limited  time,  with  the  ex- 
ecutive authority. 

In  the  actual  state  of  most  countries  of  Eu- 
rope, such  a form  of  government,  as  only  takes 
place  in  some  small  cantons  of  Switzerland, 
would  be  attended  with  the  inconvenience  of 
withdrawing  the  citizens  too  much  from  their 
private  affairs.  But  in  ancient  Greece,  and 
particularly  in  Attica,  the  slaves  were  four 
times  more  numerous  than  the  freemen  ;12  and 
of  the  latter  we  may  compute  that  little  more 
than  one-half  were  entitled  to  any  share  in  the 
sovereignty.  Strangers,  and  all  those  who 
could  not  ascertain  their  Athenian  descent, 
both  in  the  male  and  female  line,  were  totally 
excluded  from  the  assembly  and  courts  of  jus- 
tice. The  regulations  of  Solon  marked  the 
utmost  attention  to  preserve  the  pure  blood  of 
Athens  unmixed  and  uncorrupted ; nor  could 
any  foreigner,  whatever  merit  he  might  claim 
with  the  public,  be  admitted  to  the  rank  of 
citizen,  unless  he  abandoned  for  ever  his  native 
country,  professed  the  knowledge  of  some 
highly  useful  or  ingenious  art,  and,  in  both 
cases,  had  been  chosen  by  ballot,  in  a full  assem- 
bly of  six  thousand  Athenians.  These  circum- 
stances (especially  as  the  Athenian  people  were 
usually  convened  only  four  times  in  thirty-five 
days)  prevented  their  assemblies  from  being 
either  so  inconvenient  and  burdensome,  or  so 
numerous  and  tumultuary,  as  might  at  first 
sight  be  supposed.  Yet  their  numbers,  and 
still  more  their  impetuosity  and  ignorance, 
must  have  proved  inconsistent  with  good 
government,  if  Solon  had  not  secured  the  ves- 
sel of  the  republic  from  the  waves  of  popular 
frenzy,  by  the  two  firm  anchors  of  the  senate 
and  the  Areopagus ; tribunals  originally  of 
great  dignity  and  of  very  extensive  power, 
into  which  men  of  a certain  description  only 
could  be  received  as  members. 

Solon  divided  the  Athenians  into  four  classes, 
according  to  the  produce  of  their  estates. 
The  first  class  consisted  of  tjiose  whose  lands 
annually  yielded  five  hundred  measures  of 
liquid,  as  well  as  dry  commodities ; and  the 
minimum  of  whose  yearly  income  may  be  cal- 
culated at  sixty  pounds  sterling ; which  is 
equivalent,  if  we  estimate  the  relative  value 
of  money  by  the  price  of  labour,  and  of  the 
things  most  necessary  to  life,  to  about  six  hun- 
dred pounds  sterling  in  the  present  age.13  The 
second  class  consisted  of  those  whose  estates 
produced  three  hundred  measures ; the  third, 
of  those  whose  estates  produced  two  hundred  ; 
the  fourth,  and  by  far  the  most  numerous  class 
of  Athenians,  either  possessed  no  landed  pro- 
perty, or  at  least  enjoyed  not  a revenue  in  land 
equal  to  twenty-four  pounds  sterling,  or,  agree- 
ably to  the  above  proportion,  two  hundred  and 
forty  pounds  of  our  present  currency. 

All  ranks  of  citizens  were  alike  admitted  to 


dergo  what  is  called  a probation  ; bis  character  and  merits 
were  thus  exposed  to  a second  examination  ; and  it  seemed 
scarcely  possible,  after  this  severe  scrutiny,  that  any  man 
should  attain  power,  who  was  altogether  unworthy  of 
public  confidence. 

12  Sec  iny  Introductory  Discourso  to  the  Orations  of  Ly 
sias  and  Isocrates,  p.  5,  et  seq. 

13  See  Introduction  to  Lysias,  &c.  p.  14. 


164 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


vote  in  the  public  assembly,  and  to  judge  in  the 
courts  of  justice,  whether  civil  or  criminal, 
which  were  properly  so  many  committees  of 
the  assembly.1  But  the  three  first  classes  were 
exclusively  entitled  to  sit  in  the  senate,  to  de- 
cide in  the  Areopagus,  or  to  hold  any  other 
office  of  magistracy.  To  these  dignities  they 
were  elected  by  the  free  suffrages  of  the  peo- 
ple, to  whom  they  were  accountable  for  their 
administration,  and  by  whom  they  might  be 
punished  for  malversation  or  negligence,  al- 
though they  derived  no  emolument  from  the 
diligent  discharge  of  their  duty. 

The  senate  of  four  hundred,  which,  eighty- 
six  years  after  its  institution,  was  augmented  to 
five  hundred  by  Clisthenes,  enjoyed  the  im- 
portant prerogatives  of  convoking  the  popular 
assembly  ; of  previously  examining  all  matters 
before  they  came  to  be  decided  by  the  people, 
which  gave  them  a negative  before  debate  in  all 
public  resolutions  ; and  of  making  laws  which 
had  force  during  a year,  without  requiring  the 
consent  of  the  populace.  Besides  this  general 
superintendence  and  authority,  the  senate  was 
exclusively  invested  with  many  particular 
branches  of  the  executive  power.  The  presi- 
dent of  that  council  had  the  custody  of  the 
public  archives  and  treasury.  The  senate 
alone  built  ships  ; equipped  fleets  and  armies  ; 
seized  and  confined  state-criminals  ; examined 
and  punished  several  offences,  which  were  not 
expressly  forbidden  by  any  positive  law.  The 
weight  of  such  a council,  which  assembled 
every  day,  except  festivals,  infused  a large  mix- 
ture of  aristocracy  into  the  Athenian  constitu- 
tion. This,  as  we  shall  immediately  explain, 
was  still  farther  increased  by  the  authority  of 
the  Areopagus,  a court  so  named  from  the 
place  where  it  was  held  ; a hill  sacred  to  Mars, 
adjoining  to  the  citadel. 

The  principal  magistrates  in  Athens  were  the 
nine  archons,  the  first  of  whom  gave  his  name 
to  the  year,  and  presided  in  the  civil  courts  of 
justice,  where  a committee  of  the  people,  cho- 
sen promiscuously  from  all  classes  by  lot,2  sat 
.as  judges  and  jury  ; but  where  it  belonged  to 
the  archon  and  his  assessors,  men  appointed  by 
suffrage,  and  acquainted  with  forms,  to  take 
what  in  Scotland  is  called  precognition,  to  pre- 
scribe the  form  of  action,  to  give  the  ballot,3 
and  to  receive  and  declare  the  verdict  and  sen- 
tence of  the  court.  The  archon  next  in  dig- 
nity, who  had  the  appellation  of  king,  presided 


1 In  my  Introductory  Discourses  to  the  Orations  of  Ly- 
sias, &c.  I had  occasion  to  explain  the  nature  of  the 
Athenian  tribunals.  Since  the  publication  of  that  work, 
the  same  subject,  and  particularly  the  form  of  civil  process, 
has  been  accurately  explained  by  Sir  William  Jones,  in  his 
Dissertations  annexed  to  the  translation  of  Isoeus.  Mr.  Pet- 
tingal’s  learned  work  upon  the  use  and  practice  of  juries 
among  the  ancients,  lately  fell  into  my  hands.  Wherein 
my  ideas  and  his  differ,  will  easily  appear  from  the  text, 
and  needs  not  be  pointed  out. 

2 The  essential  difference  between  the  Roman  and  Athe- 
nian government,  consisted  in  the  different  placing  of  the 

i'udicial  power;  which  at  Rome  remained  300  years  in  the 
ands  of  the  senate.  The  seditions  of  the  Gracchi,  and 
most  of  the  civil  dissensions  which  happened  before  the 
time  of  Augustus,  had  for  their  object  or  pretence,  the  al- 
tering of  this  order  of  things,  and  bringing  the  Roman  con- 
stitution nearer  the  Athenian. 

3 0<  TiSevre;  row  uywvx  xxi  rqv  tytiQov  S'iS'ovtsj,  are  the 
words  of  Lysias.  The  same  writer  mentions  the  Tra^eS^o*, 
assessors  syndics. 


[Chap. 

in  causes  respecting  religion  and  things  sacred, 
which  formed  the  object  of  an  important  and  , 
dangerous  branch  of  Athenian  jurisprudence. 
The  Archon  third  in  dignity,  with  his  assessors 
the  generals,4  presided  in  military  matters;  and 
the  six  remaining,  who  were  known  by  the 
general  appellation  of  thesmothetae,  heard  cri- 
minal pleas  of  various  kinds,  or  rather  direct- 
ed the  proceedings  of  the  six  courts  where  cri- 
minal causes  were  examined  and  determined. 
These  nine  archons,  or  presidents  of  the  several 
courts  of  justice,  like  all  other  Athenian  magis- 
trates, were,  at  the  expiration  of  their  annual 
office,  accountable  to  the  people ; and  when 
their  conduct,  after  a severe  scrutiny,  appeared 
to  merit  public  approbation  and  gratitude,  they 
were  received,  and  remained  for  life,  members 
of  the  Areopagus,  a senate  invested  with  a 
general  inspection  over  the  laws  and  religion, 
as  well  as  over  the  lives  and  manners  of  the 
citizens ; and  which,  in  dangerous  emergencies, 
was  even  entitled  to  assume  a sort  of  dictato- 
rial power.5 

Such  is  the  great  outline  of  the  constitution 
established  by  Solon,  according  to  which  every 
Athenian  citizen  enjoyed  the  inestimable  privi- 
lege of  being  judged  by  his  peers,  and  tried 
by  laws  to  which  he  himself  had  consented. 
Although  the  legislative  and  judicial  powers 
were  thus  lodged  with  the  people,  men  of  pro- 
perty and  ability  were  alone  entrusted  with  the 
administration  of  government ; and  as  power 
in  some  measure  followed  property,  the  same 
expedient  which  served  to  maintain  a due  dis- 
tinction of  ranks  in  society,  tended  also  to  pro- 
mote the  industry  and  frugality  of  the  multitude, 
that  they  might  thereby  become  entitled  to 
share  those  honours  and  offices,  to  which  per- 
sons of  a certain  estate  only  could  aspire. 

The  laws  of  Solon  were  of  the  most  exten- 
sive nature,  comprehending  not  only  rules  of 
right,  but  maxims  of  morality,  regulations  of 
commerce,  and  precepts  of  agriculture.  To 
describe  his  institutions  respecting  such  matters 
as  are  properly  the  objects  of  law,  would  be  ex- 
plaining those  great  but  familiar  principles, 
concerning  marriage,  succession,  testaments, 
the  rights  of  persons  and  of  things,  which, 
through  the  medium  of  the  civil  law,  have  been 
conveyed  into  the  jurisprudence  of  all  the  civi- 
lized nations  of  Europe.  His  laws  concern- 
ing education  and  manners  prove  that  drunk- 
enness and  unnatural  love  were  the  pre- 
dominant vices  of  that  early  age.  It  was  a 
particular  duty  of  the  archons,  to  prevent  or 
punish  offences  committed  in  consequence  of 
intoxication  ; and  the  regulations  concerning 
schools,6  which  were  not  to  be  opened  till  sun- 
rise, which  were  ordered  to  be  shut  before  night, 
and  into  which  none  but  such  relations  of  the 
master,  as  were  particularly  specified  by  law, 
could  on  any  pretence  be  admitted,  marked  the 
utmost  solicitude  to  root  out  an  evil  which  al- 
ready infected  and  disgraced  the  manners  of 
Greece. 

4 Lysias,  in  the  second  oration  against  Alcibiades  (a  mi- 

litary cause,)  not  only  mentions  the  o-TjaTtiyo*,  or  generals, 
but  addresses  them  separately  from  the  Sixana 

or  judges. 

5 Isocrat.  Oratio  Areopagit. 

6 yEschin.  in  Timarchum. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


165 


XII1.3 

The  education  recommended  by  Solon  nearly 
resembled  that  above  described,  which  gene- 
rally prevailed  in  Greece.7  The  children  of 
Athenian  citizens,  when  taken  from  the  hands 
of  the  women,  were  delivered  to  two  masters, 
of  whom  the  one  formed  the  body,  and  the 
other  the  mind.  Swimming,  and  the  easier 
exercises,  prepared  them  for  the  harder  toils  of 
the  gymnastic.  Reading,  and  learning  by  heart 
the  lessons  and  examples  of  the  poets,  made 
way  for  the  severer  studies  of  eloquence  and 
philosophy.  In  process  of  time,  music,  geome- 
try, and  drawing,  seem  to  have  entered  into 
the  plan  of  a liberal  education.8  At  the  age 
of  twenty,  the  youth  of  all  ranks  took  an  oath 
in  the  temple  of  Agraulos  (an  appellation  of 
Minerva,)  to  obey  and  to  maintain  the  laws  of 
their  country  ; to  use  their  best  endeavours  to 
promote  its  prosperity  ; to  follow  the  standard 
of  whatever  commanders  might  be  appointed  to 
conduct  them ; to  sail  to  every  part  of  the 
world,  when  summoned  by  the  public  service  ; 
to  fight  to  death  for  their  native  land ; and  to 
regard  wheat,  barley,  vines,  and  olives,  as  the 
only  boundaries  of  Attica;9  a preposterous 
arrogance  in  that  little  republic,  which  already 
betrayed  an  ambition  to  conquer  and  appro- 
priate all  the  cultivated  parts  of  the  world. 
When  the  Athenian  youth  were  not,  in  conse- 
quence of  this  oath,  engaged  in  military  service, 
they  were  obliged  by  law  to  follow  such  em- 
ployments as  suited  their  respective  fortunes. 
Agriculture,  commerce,  and  the  mechanic  arts, 
fell  to  the  share  of  the  poor ; the  rich  still  con- 
tinued their  application  to  gymnastic  and  phi- 
losophy, carefully  studied  the  laws  of  the 
republic,  examined  the  ancient  and  actual  con- 
dition of  their  own  and  neighbouring  states ; 
and,  at  the  age  of  thirty,  appeared  as  candidates 
in  the  assembly  for  such  offices  of  trust  and 
honour  as  their  regular  manners,  inoffensive 
and  dutiful  behaviour  in  all  the  relations  of 
private  life,  temperance,  economy,  public  spirit, 
and  abilities,10  might  obtain  from  the  voluntary 
suffrage  of  the  people. 

. p r~n  The  usurpation  of  Pisistratus, 
1 ' though  it  destroyed  for  a time  the 
political  liberty  of  Athens,  gave  stability  to  most 
of  the  laws  and  forms  introduced  by  Solon. 
That  extraordinary  tyrant , for  so  the  Greeks 
styled  him,  was  not  more  distinguished  by  the 
loftiness  of  his  genius  than  the  humanity  of  his 
disposition  ; and  had  not  the  violence  of  con- 
tending factions,  and  the  fury  of  his  enemies, 
inflamed  his  natural  love  of  power,  the  name 
of  Pisistratus  would  stand  the  foremost  in  the 
list  of  Grecian  patriots  and  heroes.  His  valour 
and  conduct  were  signalized  in  the  conquest  of 
Nissea,  Salamis,  Naxos,  Delos,  and  Sigaeum ; 
and  if  he  displayed  boldness  and  address  in  ac- 
quiring sovereignty,  he  displayed  still  more 
moderation  and  viitue  in  administering  it.  He 
assumed,  indeed,  the  royal  dignities  of  priest 
and  general,  and  took  care  that  the  chief 
offices  of  magistracy  should  be  filled  by  his  par- 


7 See  Chapters  V.  and  VI. 

8 Arist.  Polit.  1.  vii.  c.  iii. 

9 See  introduction  to  Lysias,  &c.  p.  4. 

10  Lysias,  passim. 


tisans.  But  he  maintained  the  regular  cour*« 
of  law  and  justice,  not  only  by  his  authority, 
but  by  his  example  ; having  appeared  in  person 
to  answer  an  accusation  in  the  Areopagus.  He 
not  only  enforced  the  laws  of  Solon  against 
idleness,  but  endeavoured  to  give  them  more 
efficacy  by  introducing  new  arts  and  manufac- 
tories into  Attica.  He  was  the  first  who  brought 
into  that  country  the  complete  collection  of  Ho- 
mer’s poems,  which  he  commanded  to  be  sung 
at  the  Panathensean  festival ; nor  can  we  sup- 
pose that  he  should  have  been  zealous  to  diffuse 
the  liberal  and  manly  sentiments  of  that  divine 
poet,  if  his  government  had  not  resembled  the 
moderation  and  equity  of  the  heroic  -ages,  ra- 
ther than  the  despotism  of  tyrants. 

His  son  Hipparchus  imitated  and  surpassed 
the  mild  virtues  of  his  father ; and  amidst  the 
turbulence  of  the  late  democracy,  it  was  ac- 
knowledged with  a sigh  by  the  Athenians,  that 
their  ancestors  were  indeed  happy  under  Solon 
and  Pisistratus,  but  that  the  reign  of  the  tyrant 
Hipparchus  brought  back  on  earth  the  golden 
days  of  Saturn.  The  father  had  required  a 
tenth  part  of  the  produce  of  Attica,  to  support 
his  guards, and  the  other  appendages  of  royalty : 
his  more  generous  son  remitted  one  half  of  this 
imposition.  While  he  alleviated  the  burdens, 
yet  encouraged  the  industry  of  his  subjects,  by 
building  the  temple  of  Olympian  Jupiter,  he 
was  solicitous  to  dispel  their  ignorance  and  bar- 
barity by  erecting  pillars  in  every  part  of  the 
city,  engraved  with  elegiac  verses,  containing 
lessons  of  wisdom  and  precepts  of  morality. 
He  collected  the  first  library  in  Athens  ; and 
his  liberal  rewards,  and  still  more  his  agreeable 
manners  and  winning  affability,  attracted  to 
that  city  the  most  distinguished  poets  of  the 
age. 

The  murder  of  Hipparchus  exasperated  the 
temper  of  his  brother  and  successor  Hippias ; 
but  notwithstanding  the  calamities  which  the 
latter  inflicted  and  suffered,  it  must  be  allowed 
that  the  government  of  Pisistratus  and  his  fa- 
mily, which,  with  various  interruptions,  lasted 
sixty-eight  years,11  increased  the  strength,  and 
promoted  the  refinement  of  Athens.12 
^ Yet  in  nothing  was  that  usurpa- 

lxvii  3*  tion  more  a(ivantageous  than  in  the 
A C 509  animatlng  sense  of  liberty  which 

’ ' ' the  memory  of  past  servitude,  un- 

der Hippias,  excited  and  kept  alive  in  Athens, 
after  the  popular  government  had  been  restored 
by  Clisthenes  and  Alcibiades.  We  have  al- 
ready had  occasion  to  relate  the  foreign  victo- 
ries of  the  republic,  which  immediately  followed 
that  event;  but  at  the  same  time  the  constitu- 
tion of  government  underwent  a considerable 
change.  By  admitting  to  the  rank  of  citizens 
a promiscuous  crowd  of  strangers,  fugitives, 
Athenians  of  half  blood,  and  perhaps  slaves, 
the  tribes  were  augmented  from  four  to  ten  ; 
and  the  senators  from  four  to  five  thousand. 
The  ostracism  was  likewise  established  ; a law 
by  which  any  citizen  whose  influence  or  abili- 


11  Between  578  and  510,  B.  C. 

12  See  the  treatise  of  Meursius,  entitled  Pisistratus,  one 
of  the  few  satisfactory  performances  in  tire  immense  collec- 
tion of  Gronovius. 


166 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


ties  seemed  dangerous  to  liberty,  might  be  ban- 
ished ten  years,  without  the  proof  or  allegation 
of  any  positive  crime. 

* In  this  condition  the  republic 

continued  thirty  years  until  the  glo- 


lxxv. 


* rious  victories  of  Salamis,  Plataea, 


’ * 1 ' and  Mycale,  encouraged  the  lowest 

but  most  numerous  class  of  citizens,  by  whose 
valour  those  memorable  exploits  had  been 
achieved,  to  make  further  invasions  on  the  pre- 
rogatives of  their  superiors.  The  sudden  wealth, 
which  the  rich  spoils  of  the  Barbarians  had  -dif- 
fused among  all  ranks  of  men,  increased  the 
census  of  individuals,  and  destroyed  the  balance 
of  the  constitution.  Aristides,  who  perceived 
it  to  be  impossible  to  resist  the  natural  progress 
of  democracy,  seasonably  yielded  to  men  who 
had  arms  in  their  hands,  and  firmness  in  their 
hearts ; and  proposed,  with  apparent  satisfac- 
tion, but  much  secret  reluctance,1  a law  by 
which  the  Athenian  magistrates  should  be 
thenceforth  promiscuously  elected  from  the 
four  classes  of  citizens.  This  innovation  paved 
the  way  for  the  still  greater  changes  begun 
twenty  years  afterwards,  and  gradually  com- 
pleted by  Pericles  ; a revolution  of  which  the 
consequences  were  not  immediately  felt,  but 
which  continually  became  more  sensible,  and 
finally  terminated  in  the  ruin  of  Athens  and 
of  Greece. 

The  general  reasons  which  prevailed  on  the 
equity  and  discernment  of  Pericles  to  espouse, 
with  undue  warmth,  the  cause  of  the  populace, 
have  in  the  preceding  chapter  been  sufficiently 
explained.  Yet  whatever  partial  motives  of 
interest  and  ambition2  might  warp 
the  views  of  this  illustrious  states- 
man, it  must  be  acknowledged, 
that  the  foreign  transactions  and 
success  of  the  republic,  and  particularly  the 
new  situation  in  which  the  Athenians  found 
themselves  placed  with  regard  to  their  distant 
allies  and  colonies,  might  naturally  suggest  and 
occasion  very  important  alterations  in  the 
Athenian  constitution.  The  ancient  and  sacred 
law,  which  obliged  every  citizen,  without  fee 
or  reward,  to  take  arms  in  defence  of  his  coun- 


Olymp. 
lxxxii.  4. 
A.  C.  449. 


try,  could  not  easily  be  extended  to  the  obliga- 
tion of  protecting,  without  a proper  recompense, 
the  interest  of  foreign  communities.  The  scanty 
population  of  Attica  sufficed  not  to  answer  the 
demands  of  so  many  distant  expeditions.  It 
became  necessary  to  hire  troops  wherever  they 
might  be  found ; and,  as  this  necessity  introduced 
pay  into  the  Athenian  armies,  a similar,  though 
not  equally  cogent,  reason  established  fees  and 
salaries  for  all  the  different  orders  of  judges  and 
magistrates.  The  same  principle  of  duty  and 
public  spirit,  which  obliged  every  freeman  to 


1 Ezaiv  666KOVTI  Ss  6-jpjo,  cited  on  this  occasion  by  Plu- 
tarch, well  expresses  the  forced  generosity  of  Aristides  to 
the  populace. 

2 Plutarch  (inPericle)  mentions  a particular  reason  which 
engaged  Pericles  to  counteract  the  aristocracy,  and  to 
abridge  the  power  of  the  Areopagus.  Although  he  had 
been  often  named  for  the  office  of  archon,  the  lot  had  never 
fallen  on  him ; so  that  he  could  not  be  received  as  a mem- 
ber of  that  respected  court.  If  this  observation  be  well 
founded,  it  shows  how  littlegeal  weight  the  annual  magis- 
tracies had  at  Athens ; since  Pericles,  though  he  never  at- 
tained the  dignity  of  archon,  governed  the  republic  many 
years  with  unrivalled  authority. 


[Chap. 

fight  without  pay,  likewise  obliged  him  gra- 
tuitously to  judge,  consult,  and  deliberate,  for 
the  benefit  of  his  country.  But  when  the  con- 
tested interests  of  foreign,  though  dependent 
communities,  were  agitated  and  adjusted  in  the 
tribunals  of  Athens,  it  seemed  reasonable  for 
those  who  spent  their  time  in  an  employment, 
to  which  no  natural  obligation  called  them,  to 
demand  a proper  reward  for  their  useful  ser- 
vices. At  first,  therefore,  a small  sum,  but 
which  gradually  increased  with  the -power  of 
the  people,  was  regularly  distributed  among 
the  citizens,  for  every  deliberation  which  they 
held,  and  for  every  cause  which  they  deter- 
mined. 

The  desire  of  reaping  this  profit  made  the 
populace  anxious  to  draw  all  causes  and  deli- 
berations before  their  own  tribunals  and  assem- 
blies. This  design  was  successfully  accomplish- 
ed by  Ephialtes,3  an  artful  and  daring  dema- 
gogue, whom  Periqles  employed  as  a proper 
instrument  to  effect  such  invidious  measures  as 
were  most  obnoxious  to  the  rich  and  noble. 
While  his  patron  extended  the  renown  of 
Athens  by  his  foreign  victories,  and  gradually 
reduced  into  subjection  the  colonies  and  allies 
of  the  republic,  the  obsequious  Ephialtes  zeal- 
ously promoted  his  domestic  measures;  and  by 
undermining  the  authority  of  the  senate  and  of 
the  Areopagus,4  the  firmest  bulwarks  of  the  aris- 
tocracy, obtained  a signal  victory  over  the  laws 
of  Solon.  The  assassination  of  Ephialtes  prov- 
ed only  the  weakness  of  his  enemies ; and  we 
shall  find,  in  the  subsequent  history  of  Athens, 
that  most  matters  of  deliberation  came,  thence- 
forth, in  the  first  instance,  before  the  popular  as- 
sembly ; that  the  wise  institutions  of  Solon 
were  reduced  to  an  empty  form ; and  that  the 
magnanimity  of  Pericles,  the  extravagance  of 
his  immediate  successors,  the  patriotism  of 
Thrasybulus  and  Conon,  the  integrity  of  Pho- 
cion,  the  artifices  of  iEschines,  and  the  elo- 
quence of  Demosthenes,  successively  swayed, 
at  will,  a wild  and  capricious  democracy. 

7 The  revolution  which  immediately 

Ixxxv  1 followed,  in  the  manners,  character, 
A C *440  an(*  con<lucl;  °f  the  Athenians, 
was  the  natural  consequence  of  the 
change  of  government,  combined  with  other 
circumstances  inseparably  connected  with  their 
domestic  and  external  prosperity.  In  the  course 
of  a few  years,  the  success  of  Aristides,  Cimon, 
and  Pericles,  had  tripled  the  revenues,  and  in- 
creased, in  a far  greater  proportion,  the  domi- 

3 Plut.  in  Peri^le. 

4 Authors  have  not  described  in  what  particular  respects, 

or  by  what  particular  means,  Ephialtes  effected  his  pur- 
pose : yet  we  may  collect,  from  obscure  hints  on  this  sub- 
ject, that  he  not  only  brought  before  the  inferior  tribunals 
causes  hitherto  confined  to  the  Areopagus,  but  took  from 
that  court  its  general  inspection  and  superintendence  over 
the  religion  and  laws ; which  offices  he  bestowed  on  the 
popular  court  of  the  and  the  vojtovux**«;,  who  were 

appointed,  and  dismissed,  at  the  will  of  the  people.  He 
likewise  rendered  the  probation  for  becoming  an  Areopa- 
gite  less  severe  than  formerly.  Persons  crept  into  this  or 
der,  whose  characters  disgraced  it.  The  Areopagites  be- 
came equally  accessible  to  presents  and  to  beauty:  and 
their  decisions  fell  into  contempt.  See  the  discourse  of  Iso- 
crates upon  reforming  the  government  of  Athens,  and  Athe- 
naeus,  l.ix.  That  Ephialtes,  or  Pericles  himself,  likewise 
weakened  the  authority  of  the  senate  (although  if  is  not 
remarked  bv  any  ancient  author,)  appears  from  all  the 
subsequent  history  of  Athens 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


167 


XIII.] 

nions  of  the  republic.  The  Athenian  galleys 
Commanded  the  eastern  coasts  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean; their  merchantmen  had  engrossed  the 
traffic  of  the  adjacent  countries  ; the  magazines 
of  Athens  abounded  with  wood,  metal,  ebony, 
ivory,  and  all  the  materials,  of  the  useful  as 
well  as  of  the  agreeable  arts ; they  imported 
the  luxuries  of  Italy,  Sicily,  Cyprus,  Lydia, 
Pontus,  and  Peloponnesus ; experience  had 
improved  their  skill  in  working  the  silver  mines 
of  mount  Larium ; they  had  lately  opened  the 
valuable  marble  veins  in  mount  Pentelicus  ; 
the  honey  of  Hymettus  was  more  esteemed,  in 
proportion  as  it  became  better  known  to  their 
neighbours  ; the  culture  of  their  olives  (oil  be- 
ing long  their  staple  commodity,  and  the  only 
production  of  Attica,  which  Solon  allowed  them 
to  export)  must  have  improved  with  the  gene- 
ral improvement  of  the  country  in  arts  and 
agriculture,  especially  under  the  active  adminis- 
tration of  Pericles,  who  liberally  let  loose  the 
public  treasure  to  encourage  every  species  of 
industry.5 

But  if  that  minister  promoted  the  love  of  ac- 
tion, he  found  it  necessary  at  least  to  comply 
with,  if  not  to  excite,  the  extreme  passion  for 
pleasure,  which  then  began  to  distinguish  his 
countrymen.  The  people  of  Athens,  successful 
in  every  enterprise  against  their  foreign  as  well 
as  domestic  enemies,  seemed  entitled  to  reap 
the  fruits  of  their  dangers  and  victories.  For  the 
space  of  at  least  twelve  years  preceding  the  war 
of  Peloponnesus,  their  city  afforded  a perpetual 
scene  of  triumph  and  festivity.  Dramatic  en- 
tertainments, to  which  they  were  passionately 
addicted,  were  no  longer  performed  in  slight 
unadorned  edifices,  but  in  stone  or  marble  thea- 
tres, erected  at  great  expense,  and  embellished 
with  the  most  precious  productions  of  nature 
and  of  art.  The  treasury  was  opened,  not  only 
to  supply  the  decorations  of  this  favourite 
amusement,  but  to  enable  the  poorer  citizens  to 
enjoy  it,  without  incurring  any  private  expense  ; 
and  thus,  at  the  cost  of  the  state,  or  rather  of  its 
tributary  allies  and  colonies,  to  feast  and  de- 
light their  ears  and  fancy  with  the  combined 
charms  of  music  and  poetry.  The  pleasure  of 
the  eye  was  peculiarly  consulted  and  gratified 
in  the  architecture  of  the  theatres  and  other  or- 
namental buildings ; for  as  Themistocles  had 
strengthened,  Pericles  adorned  his  native  city  ; 
and  unless  we  had  the  concurring  testimony  of 
antiquity,  as  well  as  the  immortal  remains  of 
the  Parthenon,  or  temple  of  Minerva,  which 
still  excite  the  adnrration  of  travellers,  it  would 
be  difficult  to  believe  that  in  the  space  of  a few 
years,  there  could  have  been  created  those  in- 
estimable wonder*  of  art,  those  innumerable 
temples,  theatres,  siatues,  altars,  baths,  gymna- 
sia, and  porticoes,  which,  in  the  language  of  an- 
cient panegyric,  rendered  Athens  the  eye  and 
light  of  Greece.6 

Pericles  was  blamed  for  thus  decking  one  fa- 
vourite city,  like  a vain,  voluptuous  harlot,  at 
the  expense  of  plundered  provinces  ;7  but  it 
would  have  been  fortunate  for  the  Athenians  if 


5 Isocrat.  Areop.  de  Pace,  et  Pancgyr.  Xenoph.  et  Aris- 
tot.  de  Rcpub.  Athen. 

(5  Isocrat.  et  Aristid.  in  Pangyr. 

7 Plutarch  in  Pericle. 


their  extorted  wealth  had  not  been  employed 
in  more  perishing,  as  well  as  more  criminal  lux 
ury.  The  pomp  of  religious  solemnities,  which 
were  twice  as  numerous  and  as  costly  in  Athens 
as  in  any  other  city  of  Greece ; the  extrava- 
gance of  entertainments  and  banquets  which  on 
such  occasions  always  followed  the  sacrifices  ; 
the  increase  of  private  luxury,  which  naturally 
accompanied  this  public  profusion,  exhausted 
the  resources,  without  augmenting  the  glory,  of 
the  republic.  Instead  of  the  bread,  herbs,  and 
simple  fare  recommended  by  the  laws  of  Solon, 
the  Athenians,  soon  after  the  eightieth  Olym- 
piad, availed  themselves  of  their  extensive  com- 
merce to  import  the  delicacies  of  distant  coun- 
tries, which  were  prepared  with  all  the  refine- 
ments of  cookery .8  The  wines  of  Cyprus  were 
cooled  with  snow  in  summer;  in  winter9  the 
most  delightful  flowers  adorned  the  tables  and 
persons  of  the  wealthy  Athenians.  Nor  was  it 
sufficient  to  be  crowned  with  roses,  unless  they 
were  likewise  anointed  with  the  most  precious 
perfumes.10  Parasites,  dancers,  and  buffoons, 
were  a usual  appendage  of  every  entertain- 
ment.11 Among  the  weaker  sex,  the  passion  for 
delicate  birds,  distinguished  by  their  voice  or 
plumage,  was  carried  to  such  excess  as  merited 
the  name  of  madness.12  The  bodies  of  such 
youths  as  were  peculiarly  addicted  to  hunting 
and  horses,  which  began  to  be  a prevailing  tastp,13 
were  corrupted  by  the  commerce  of  harlots, 
who  had  reduced  their  profession  into  sys- 
tem;14 while  their  minds  were  still  more  pol- 
luted by  the  licentious  philosophy  of  the  so- 
phists. It  is  unnecessary  to  crowd  the  picture, 
since  it  may  be  observed,  in  one  word,  that  the 
vices  and  extravagances,  which  are  supposed  to 
characterize  the  declining  ages  of  Greece  and 
Rome,  took  root  in  Athens  during  the  adminis- 
tration of  Pericles,  the  most  splendid  and  most 
prosperous  in  the  Grecian  annals. 

This  paradox,  for  such  it  must  appear,  may 
be  explained  by  considering  the  singular  com- 
bination of  circumstances,  which,  in  the  time  of 
that  statesman  gave  every  poison  its  antidote, 
and  rendered  the  partial  evils,  already  describ- 
ed, only  the  thorn  that  ever  accompanies  the 
rose.  The  Grecian  history  of  those  times  affords 
a more  striking  contrast  than  ever  appeared  in 
any  other  age  or  country,  of  wisdom  and  folly, 
of  magnanimity  and  meanness,  of  liberty  and 
tyranny,  of  simplicity  and  refinement,  of  aus- 
terity and  voluptuousness.  The  sublime  philo- 
sophy of  Anaxogoras  and  Socrates  was  accom- 
panied, as  with  a shadow,  by  the  dark,  unprin- 
cipled captiousness’of  the  sophists  ; the  pathetic 
and  moral  strains  of  Sophocles  and  Euripides 
were  parodied  by  the  licentious  buffoonery  of 
Aristophanes  ; painting  and  sculpture,  which, 
under  geniuses  of  the  first  order  like  Phidias, 
served  as  handmaids  to  religion  and  virtue, 
degenerated  under  inferior  artists  into  mean 
hirelings  of  vice  and  disorder;  the  modesty  of 
Athenian  matrons  was  set  off  as  by  a foil. 


8 Aristoph.  Nubes,  vcr.  50.  etLysistrat.  passim. 
0 Athen.  I.  xi.  3.  et  Xenoph.  Memorabilia,  I.  ii. 

10  Xenoph.  ibid. 

1 1 Athenieu^  1.  i.  et  Xenoph.  Symp 

12  OfviSo/iai'iz,  Athen.  l.xi.  3. 

13  Aristoph.  Nubes,  passim. 

14  Alexis  apud  Athenreum,  1.  xiii. 


168 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Chap. 


when  compared  with  the  dissoluteness  of  the- 
school  of  Aspasia ; and  the  simple  frugality  of 
manners,  which  commonly  prevailed  in  pri- 
vate families,  even  of  the  first  distinction,  was 
contrasted  with  the  extravagant  dissipation  of 
public  entertainments  and  festivals.  To  ex- 
amine the  parallel  links  of  this  complicated 
chain  will  illustrate  the  character  of  a people 
whose  subsequent  transactions  form  one  princi- 
pal object  of  Grecian  history. 

Philosophy,  which  in  Greece  alone  deserves 
the  peculiar  attention  of  the  historian,  arose 
about  the  beginning  of  the  sixth  century  before 
Christ,  and  in  a hundred  and  fifty  years  attain- 
ed the  highest  degree  of  perfection,  and  sunk 
into  the  lowest  degeneracy  and  corruption,  to 
which  the  use  or  abuse  of  the  human  intellect 
could  raise  or  plunge  it.  Lesser  Asia,  to  which 
Europe  and  America  owe  the  inestimable  bene- 
fits of  their  religion  and  letters,  produced  and 
nourished  the  tender  plant  of  philosophy;  and 
the  flourishing  Greek  colonies  on  that  delight- 
ful coast,  communicated  to  their  mother  coun- 
try this  precious  offspring  of  their  soil.  Thales 
of  Miletus,  Pittacus  of  Mitylene,  Bias  of  Priene, 
Cleobulus  of  Lindus  in  the  isle  of  Rhodes,  and 
the  other  wise  men,  as  they  were  emphatically 
styled,  who  lived  in  that  age,  not  only  gave  ad- 
vice and  assistance  to  their  countrymen  in  par- 
ticular emergencies,  but  restrained  their  vices 
by  wholesome  laws,  improved  their  manners  by 
useful  lessons  of  morality,  and  extended  their 
knowledge  by  important  and  difficult  disco- 
veries.1 But  the  first  attempt  towards  moral* 
philosophy,  as  independent  on,  and  unconnect- 
ed with  religion,  seems  to  have  been  the  fables 
of  iEsop,  which,  to  men  in  an  early  period  of 
society,  must  have  appeared  a very  serious  and 
important  species  of  composition.  The  sphere 
of  history  was  narrow ; the  examples  of  the 
gods,  amidst  the  continual  corruptions  of  su- 
perstition, had  become  too  flagitious  for  imita- 
tion ; and  men,  whose  rustic  simplicity  of  life 
afforded  them  continual  opportunities  to  ob- 
serve the  instinctive  sagacity  of  certain  animals, 
might  derive  many  useful*  lessons  from  those 
humble  instructors.  In  the  early  ages  of  Greece 
and  Rome,  and  of  all  other  nations  whose  his- 
tory is  recorded,  fables  were  told,  and  in  some 
degree  believed,  in  the  assembly  and  senate- 
house,  on  the  most  important  occasions  ; for  in 
the  infancy  of  society  men  are  children  ; and 
the  delusion,  which  the  belief  of  a fable  sup- 
poses, is  not  more  gross  and  improbable  than 
many  of  those  errors  into  which  (as  we  have 
already  proved2)  their  lively  fancy  had  often 
hurried  them.  The  same  romantic  cast  of  ima- 
gination which  had  animated  woods  and  winds, 
mountains  and  rivers,  which  had  changed  he- 
roes into  gods,  and  gods  into  frail  men,  might 
endow  animals  with  reason,  and  even  speech. 

The  next  step  towards  moral  science  was  of 
a more  refined  and  abstract  kind,  consisting  of 
the  sentences  of  the  gnomonic  poets,3  and  in 
those  detached  precepts  or  proverbs  which,  in 


1 Plutarch.  Sympos.  et  de  Placit.  Philosoph.  Plato  in 
Protagor.  Diogen.  Laert.  passim. 

2 See  abbve,  Chapter  II. 

3 See  the  sentences  of  Theognis,  which  are  evidently  a 

collection,  not  the  work  of  one  man. 


all  countries,  have  preceded  any  systematic  ac- 
count of  morality.  Each  of  the  seven  sages,  as 
they  were  called,  had  his  favourite  maxims,4 
which  he  engraved  in  temples  and  other  places 
of  public  resort ; but  at  this  distance  of  time  it 
is  impossible,  amidst  the  differences  of  authors, 
to  discover  what  belongs  to  each  ; nor  is  the 
search  important,  since  all  their  maxims  or 
proverbs,  whatever  efforts  of  generalization 
they  might  cost  their  inventors,  now  appear 
extremely  simple  and  familiar. 

These  respectacle  fathers  of  Grecian  philoso- 
phy, who  silently  diffused  light  through  the 
gloom  of  a barbarous  age,  are  said  to  have 
maintained  a correspondence5  with  each  other, 
as  well  as  with  Solon  of  Athens,  Chilon  of 
Sparta,  and  Periander  of  Corinth;  men  who  in 
imitation  of  their  eastern  brethren,  chiefly  cul- 
tivated such  practical  knowledge  as  qualified 
them  to  be  the  legislators,  magistrates,  and 
generals  of  their  respective  countries. 

Thales  the  Milesian,  alone,  quitted  the  ordi- 
nary pursuits  of  civil  and  military  renown; 
and  although  he  composed  verses,  promulgated 
moral  sentences,  and,  on  some  particular  emer- 
gencies, gave  seasonable  advice  to  his  country- 
men, yet  he  established  his  fame  on  a basis 
more  broad  and  permanent  than  the  fluctuating 
interests  of  perishing  communities.  Many  of 
the  elementary  propositions  of  geometry,  after- 
wards collected  by  Euclid,  were  first  discover- 
ed6 by  Thales,  who  directed  the  acuteness  of 
his  mind  with  equal  success  to  astronomy.  He 
divided  the  heavens  into  five  zones ; discovered 
the  equinoxes  and  solstices ; remarked  the  Ursa 
Minor ; observed,  and  nearly  predicted,  eclipses. 
The  division  of  the  year  into  three  hundred 
and  sixty-five  days  was  already  known  to  the 
Egyptians;  but  although  Thales  might  borrow 
this,  and  perhaps  other  discoveries,  from  that 
ancient  people,  among  whom  he  sometime  re- 
sided, it  appears,  even  from  those  authors  who 
are  ever  prone  to  exaggerate  the  wisdom  of 
Egypt,  that  he  owed  much  less  to  that  country, 
than  to  the  native  sagacity  and  penetration  of 
his  clear  comprehensive  mind.7 

Thales  founded  the  Ionic  school,  in  which 
he  was  succeeded  by  Anixamander  and  Anaxi- 
menes, who  were  followed  by  Anaxagoras,  the 
instructor  of  Pericles  and  Archelaus,  who  is 
called  by  ancient  writers  the  master  of  Socra- 
tes. About  fifty  years  after  Thales,  the  same 
speculations  which  he  had  introduced  were 
pursued  by  Xenophanes  of  Colophon,  Leucip- 
pus and  Parmenides  of  Elea,  and  Heraclitus 
of  Ephesus.  These  ingenious  men  discovered 
many  useful  truths ; yet  all  of  them,  not  except- 
ing Thales  himself,  likewise  busied  themselves 
with  subjects  that  will  for  ever  excite  and  elude 
human  curiosity.  Their  doctrines  were  equally 
liable  to  objection,  whichever  of  the  elements 
they  assumed  as  the  first  principle  of  nature ; 
they  universally  agreed  in  asserting  the  fallacy 
of  the  senses,  and  the  unworthiness  of  the  vul- 
gar superstition;  but  their  various  opinions 
concerning  the  origin  and  destruction  of  worlds, 


4 Aristot.  Rhet.  ii.  21.  Stobaeus,  Serin,  p.  44,  & c. 

5 Plut.  Symp.  6 Proclus  in  Euclid. 

7 Hieronym.  apud  Laert.  1.  i.  c.  xxvii.  Plin.  1.  xxxviii. 
c.  xvii. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


169 


XIII.} 

the  magnitudes  and  distances  of  heavenly 
bodies,  the  essence  of  matter  and  spirit,8  de- 
serve only  to  be  considered  as  the  dreams  of 
inquisitive  men,  whose  ambition  of  knowledge 
carried  them  beyond  the  sphere  of  experience, 
and  the  clear  deductions  of  reason.  The  sys- 
tem of  Leucippus,  the  most  famous  of  them  all, 
was  improved  by  Democritus  of  Abdera,9 10 *  and 
afterwards  adopted  by  Epicurus,  whose  philo- 
sophy is  sufficiently  explained  in  the  extraordi- 
nary work  of  Lucretius,  the  boldest  monument 
which  the  world  is  ever  likely  to  behold,  of 
learning,  genius,  and  impiety. 

But  it  is  particularly  worthy  of  observation, 
that  at  the  same  time  Democritus  assailed  the 
celestial  mansions,  and  unveiled,  with  a daring 
hand,  the  feeble  majesty  of  Grecian  supersti- 
tion, Anaxagoras  of  Clazomene  revealed  a new 
and  infinitely  more  august  spectacle,  by  first 
announcing  to  the  heathen  world,  a self-exist- 
ent, all-perfect  mind,  as  the  great  cause  and 
author  of  the  material  world.  Thales  and 
Pythagoras,  with  such  of  their  disciples  as 
faithfully  adhered  to  their  tenets,  had  indeed 
admitted  spirit  as  a constituent  principle  of  the 
universe ; but  they  had  so  intimately  blended 
mind  and  matter,  that  these  dissimilar  substan- 
ces seemed  to  make  an  indissoluble  compound, 
as  the  soul  and  body  constitute  but  one  man. 
According  to  Anaxagoras,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  creating  and  sovereign  intelligence  was  to 
be  carefully  distinguished  from  the  soul  of  the 
world,  which  he  seems  to  have  regarded  merely 
as  a poetical  expression  for  the  laws  which  the 
Deity  had  impressed  on  his  works.  The  great 
Ruler  of  the  universe  did  not  animate,  but  im- 
pel matter ; he  could  not  be  included  within  its 
limited  and  perishing  terms;  his  nature  was 
pure  and  spiritual,  and  totally  incapable  of  pol- 
lution by  any  corporeal  admixture.19 

The  discovery  and  diffusion  of  this  luminous 
and  sublime  principle,  which  was  naturally 
followed  by  an  investigation  of  the  moral  attri- 
butes of  the  Deity,  and  the  deducing  from 
thence  the  great  duties  of  morality,  might  have 
produced  a general  and  happy  revolution  in 
Greece,  under  the  zealous  and  persevering  la- 
bours of  Socrates  and  his  followers,  if  the  ten- 
dency of  this  divine  philosophy  had  not  been 
counteracted,  not  only  by  the  gross  prejudices 
of  the  vulgar,  but  by  the  more  dangerous  re- 
finements of  incredulous  Sophists. 

The  same  spirit  of  inquiry,  which  leads  to 
the  discovery  of  truth,  will  ever  promote  the 
propagation  of  error;  and  unfortunately  for 
Greece,  in  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century  be- 
fore Christ,  errors  were  propagated,  so  conge- 
nial to. the  condition  of  the  times,  that  they 
could  not  fail  to  take  deep  root,  and  flourish 
in  a soil  which  was  peculiarly  well  prepared  to 
receive  them.  The  glorious  victories  over  the 
Carthaginians  and  Persians  had  increased  the 
wealth  and  security,  called  forth  the  invention 
and  industry,  but,  at  the  same  time,  multiplied 
the  wants,  and  inflamed  the  passions,  of  the 


8 See  Diopen.  Laert.  1.  i.  Aristot.  Mctaph.  passim,  et 
Pint,  de  PIncit.  Pliilosoph. 

0 Laert.  1.  ix.  Ariatot.  Physic.  1.  viii. 

10  Ariatot.  Metaphya.  J.  i.  c.  iii.  Plato  in  Cratylo,  et 

Plut.  in  Pericle. 


Greeks.  The  more  powerful  cities,  and  par- 
ticularly Athens  and  Syracuse,  had  attained  a 
pitch  of  prosperity  which  exceeded  their  most 
sanguine  hopes;  elated  by  the  bloom  of  health 
and  the  pride  of  riches,  they  continually  sighed 
for  new  and  unknown  enjoyments,  while  both 
individuals  and  communities  were  ever  ready 
to  listen  to  such  instructors  as  justified  their 
vices,  and  taught  them  to  abuse  the  gifts  of 
fortune. 

In  this  situation  of  affairs  appear- 
lxxxv  1 ^ie  ®°P^sts’11  wh°se  name,  still 

A C *4  <0  ^am^ar  la-nguages  of  Europe, 
pretty  faithfully  expresses  their 
character.  Hippias  of  Elis,  Protagoras  of  Ab- 
dera, Prodicus  of  Ceos,  Gorgias  of  Leontium, 
with  many  inferior  names,  preserved  in  the 
writings  of  Xenophon,  Plato,  and  Isocrates, 
started  up  about  the  same  time,  and  exhibited 
a new  phsenomenon  in  Greece.  The  Olympic, 
and  other  public  assemblies,  furnished  them 
with  an  opportunity  to  display  their  specious 
accomplishments  to  the  admiring  spectators. 
They  frequented  the  great  cities,  particularly 
Athens,  and  acquired  the  friendship  of  the  rich, 
and  the  applause  of  the  multitude.  They  pro- 
fessed the  knowledge  of  every  science,  and  of 
every  art,  which  they  taught  publicly,  for  a sti- 
pulated price ; and,  as  they  really  possessed  the 
art  of  persuasion,  their  disciples  continually 
increased  among  the  rich  and  the  voluptuous, 
the  idle  and  the  vain. 

Their  language  was  glowing  and  harmoni  • 
ous,  their  manners  elegant,  their  life  splendid. 
When  it  served  their  interest,  and  pleased  tha 
taste  of  their  hearers,  they  could  paint  virtue 
in  the  warmest  and  most  alluring  colours ; but 
the  capricious  will  of  their  scholars,  whose  pas- 
sions they  were  ever  careful  to  gratify,  served 
as  the  only  standard  of  their  principles ; and 
engaged  them,  for  the  most  part,  to  deck  out 
the  barren  doctrines  of  Leucippus  and  Demo- 
critus with  the  meretricious  arts  of  the  rhetori- 
cian. Their  morality  supplied  the  springs  with 
which  Epicurus  watered  his  gardens ; and  their 
captious  logic  furnished  the  arguments  by 
which  Pyrrho  attempted  to  justify  his  scepti- 
cism.12 It  would  be  easy  to  trace  up  to  the 
Sophists  that  quibbling  metaphysic,  which  be- 
ing embodied  in  the  Greek  language,  thence- 
forth adhered  too  closely  to  the  philosophical 
writings  of  that  people,  and  which  totally  dis- 
figures many  otherwise  valuable  compositions 
of  antiquity.  But  our  present  business  is  only 
to  remark  the  destructive  effects  immediately 
resulting  from  their  tenets,  which,  while  they 
uadermined,  without  openly  opposing,  the  an- 
cient and  popular  superstition,  boldly  set  at 
defiance  all  those  useful  maxims  of  conduct, 
and  all  those  salutary  discoveries  of  reason, 
which,  amidst  the  insolence  of  the  Greek  de- 
mocracies, fomented  by  prosperity,  appeared 
essentially  requisite  to  restrain  the  intemper- 
ance, injustice,  and  violence,  of  individuals 
and  communities. 

In  several  republics  of  Greece,  the  Sophists 
enjoyed  a free  career  to  display  their  talents, 


11  Vid.  Pliiloatrat.  dc  Vit.  Sophist. 

12  See  the  note  on  tho  Sophists,  in  my  Translation  of 
Isocrates’s  Panegyric  of  Athens,  p.  1.  et  6oq. 


Y 


170 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


practice  their  artifices,  and  to  promote  their 
fame  and  fortune.  But  in  Athens  their  frauds 
were  detected,  and  their  characters  unmasked 
by  Socrates,1  whose  philosophy  forms  an  im- 
portant era  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind. 
The  son  of  Sophroniscus  was  born  at  Athens, 
forty  years  before  the  commencement  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war.  The  smallness  of  his 
patrimony,  amounting  only  to  three  hundred 
pounds,  and  his  original  profession  of  a statu- 
ary,2 have  encouraged  an  opinion  of  the  ob- 
scurity of  his  birth,  among  writers  who  did  not 
reflect  on  the  narrowness  of  Athenian  fortunes, 
and  who  forgot  to  consider,  that  as  hereditary 
distinctions  were  little  known  or  regarded  in 
the  Grecian  republics,  a solid  and  permanent 
lustre  was  naturally  derived  from  the  practice 
of  ingenious  arts,  which  could  not  be  cultivated, 
as  in  ancient  Rome,  and  sometimes  in  modern 
Europe,  by  servile  or  mercenary  hands,  but 
only  by  the  first  class  of  freemen  and  citizens. 
Whatever  reputation  or  advantage  Socrates 
might  have  acquired  by  the  exercise  of  a pro- 
fession, which  was  peculiarly  encouraged  by  the 
taste  of  the  times,  and  the  magnificent  spirit 
of  Pericles,  he  readily  sacrificed  to  the  natural 
bent  of  his  mind,  which  concealed,  under  an 
external  form  worthy  to  represent  the  voluptu- 
pus  Silenus,3  the  fruitful  seeds  of  every  amiable 
and  manly  sentiment,  and  determined  him,  by 
an  irresistible  impulse,  to  the  study  of  wisdom 
and  virtue. 

In  his  early  youth  he  heard  the  physics  of 
Archelaus,  and  learned  the  geometry  of  Theo- 
dorus  ;4  and  from  these,  and  other  teachers,  ac- 
quired such  an  acquaintance  with  the  fashion- 
able theories  concerning  the  formation  of  the 
universe,  the  original  principles  of  things,  the 
hidden  powers  of  matter,  as  enabled  him  to 
regard  with  just  contempt,  and  occasionally  to 
deride  with  inimitable  humour,  the  vanity  of 
those  useless  and  shadowy  speculations.  He 
acknowledged  with  the  pious  Anaxagoras,  the 
superintending  mind,  whose  providence  regu- 
lated the  operations  of  nature,  as  well  as  the 
affairs  of  human  life.  He  denied  not  the  ex- 
istence of  those  inferior  intelligences,  which 
formed  the  only  objects  of  popular  adoration; 
he  allowed  the  divine  origin  of  dreams  and 
omens;  he  was  exemplary  in  all  the  religious 
duties  of  his  country;  and  were  we  to  judge 
the  Athenian  sage  by  the  standard  of  ordinary 
men,  we  should  be  inclined  to  believe  that  he 
had  not  entirely  escaped  the  contagion  of 
superstition;  since  he  professed  to  be  accom- 
panied by  a demon,  or  invisible  conductor,  who 
often  restrained  his  passions,  and  influenced 
his  behaviour.5  If  this  assertion  was  not  an 
effect  of  that  refined  irony  familiar  to  Socrates, 
we  must  allow  his  temper  to  have  been  tinged 
with  credulity : yet,  whoever  seriously  reflects 
on  a life  of  seventy  years,  spent  in  the  service 
of  mankind,  uniformly  blameless,  and  termi- 
nated by  a voluntary  death,  in  obedience  to  the 

1 To  avoid  prolixity  in  the  account  of  Socrates  and  his 
philosophy,  I cite  not  particular  passages,  but  give  the 
general  result  of  my  reading  in  Plato  and  Xenophon. 

2 Laert.  1.  ii.  art.  Socrat. 

3 Plato  et  Xenoph.  in  Symp. 

4 Plato  in  Theastet.  et  in  Mcnon. 

5 Plut  de  Gcnio  Socratis  0 


[Chap. 

unjust  laws  of  his  country;  whoever  considers 
attentively  the  habitual  temperance,  the  un- 
shaken probity,  the  active  usefulness,  the  diffu- 
sive benevolence,  the  constant  equanimity  and 
cheerfulness  of  this  singular  man,  will  admit  a 
degree  of  enthusiasm,  rather  as  the  ornament, 
than  defect,  of  such  an  extraordinary  character. 
Men  of  learning  and  genius,  who,  examining 
the  matter  still  more  deeply,  have  observed  the 
important  revolution  produced  by  the  life  and 
death  of  Socrates,  on  the  principles  and  senti- 
ments of  his  contemporaries,  and  of  posterity, 
are  disposed  to  believe  that  such  an  extraordi- 
nary phaenomenon  could  not  have  appeared  in 
the  moral  world,  without  the  particular  inter- 
position of  heaven.  The  cheerful  serenity  of 
his  last  moments,6  and  still  more,  the  unde- 
viating tenor  of  his  active  virtue,  justified  the 
hardest  maxims  of  Lycurgus  and  Pythagoras ; 
while  the  main  aim  of  his  speculations  was  to 
establish  the  sublime  morality  of  those  sages, 
on  the  clearest  deductions  of  reason  and  ex- 
perience. 

From  the  perfections  of  the  supreme  intelli- 
gence he  deduced  his  just  government  of  the 
universe,  which  implied  the  immortality  of  the 
human  soul.  But  the  great  object  of  his  re- 
search was  to  discover  the  general  laws  by 
which,  even  in  this  life,  the  superintending 
providence  had  variously  dispensed  to  men 
good  and  evil,  happiness  and  misery.  These 
laws  he  regarded  as  the  promulgated  will  of 
the  God,  with  which,  when  clearly  ascertained, 
it  became  our  duty  invariably  to  comply ; since 
nothing  but  the  most  short-sighted  folly  could 
risk  incurring  the  divine  displeasure,  in  order  to 
avoid  pain  or  poverty,  sickness  or  death ; far 
less  to  acquire  perishing  gratifications,  which 
leave  a sting  behind  them.  Reasoning  on  such 
principles,  and  taking  experience  only  for  his 
guide,  he  deduced,  with  admirable  perspicuity, 
the  interests  and  duties  of  nations  and  indivi- 
duals, in  all  the  complicated  relations  of  society. 
The  actions  of  men  furnished  the'  materials, 
their  instruction  formed  the  object,  their  hap- 
piness was  the  end  of  his  discourse.  Wherever 
his  lessons  might  be  most  generally  useful, 
there  he  was  always  to  be  found  ; frequenting, 
at  an  early  hour,  the  Academy,  Lyceum,  and 
other  public  Gymnasia ; punctually  attending 
the  forum  at  mid-day,  the  hour  of  full  assem- 
bly ; and  in  the  evening  joining,  without  the 
affectation  of  austerity,  in  the  convivial  enter- 
tainments of  his  friends,  or  accompanying  them 
in  the  delightful  walks  which  adorned  the 
banks  of  the  Ilyssus.  As  a husband,  a father,  a 
citizen,  and  a soldier,  the  steady  practice  of  his 
duty  continually  illustrated  his  doctrines.  The 
conversation  and  example  of  this  truly  practical 
philosopher  (and  this  is  his  highest  panegyric) 
persuaded  many  of  his  fellow  citizens  sincerely 
to  embrace  a virtuous  course  of  life  ; and  even 
those  who,  like  Critias  and  Alcibiades,  allowed 
the  current  of  their  passions  to  prevail  over 
the  conviction  of  their  sober  hours,  were  still 
charmed  with  the  wonderful  extent,  as  well  as 
the  singular  accuracy,  of  his  various  know- 
ledge ; with  the  acuteness  and  penetration  of 


G This  subject  will  be  treated  hereafter 


HISTORt  OF  GREECE. 


171 


XIII.  J 

his  arguments  ; the  beauty,  vivacity,  and  per- 
suasiveness of  his  style ; which,  whether  he 
assumed  the  tone  of  reason  or  of  ridicule,  sur- 
passed whatever  had  been  deemed  most  elo- 
quent.7 

Yet,  how  great  soever  might  be  the  personal 
influence  of  Socrates,  the  triumph  of  his  philo- 
sophy became  more  illustrious  and  complete, 
after  his  principles  were  embraced. by  those  who 
cultivated  the  imitative  arts,  and  directed  the 
public  amusements,  which  in  all  countries,  but 
particularly  in  Greece,  have  ever  produced  im- 
mediate and  powerful  effects  on  the  national 
opinions  and  character.  In  Greece  alone,  the 
theatre  was  regarded  as  an  object  of  the  first 
importance  and  magnitude ; it  formed  an  es- 
sential, and  by  far  the  most  splendid,  part  of 
religious  worship  ; the  expense  of  supporting 
it  exceeded  that  of  the  army  and  navy  toge- 
ther ; and  this  celebrated  entertainment,  which 
united  the  tragedy  and  opera  of  the  moderns, 
was  carried  to  perfection  by  a favourite  disci- 
ple of  Socrates,  whose  works  were  so  univer- 
sally admired  in  Greece,  that  (as  we  shall  have 
occasion  to  relate  in  the  Sicilian  war)  the  Sy- 
racusans released  from  captivity  those  Athe- 
nians, and  those  only,  who  had  learned  to  re- 
peat the  verses  of  Euripides.  This  admired 
poet  rendered  the  Grecian  tragedy  complete, 
by  perfecting  the  chorus,8  the  principle  distinc- 
tion between  the  ancient  and  the  modern 
drama,  and  which,  when  properly  conducted, 
rendered  the  former  more  regular,  yet  more 
varied ; more  magnificent,  and  at  the  same 
time  more  affecting  ; above  all,  more  interest- 
ing and  more  instructive. 

From  the  prevailing  manners  of  the  times, 
when  the  principal  citizens  lived  together  in 
crowds,  and  daily  frequented  the  public  halls, 
the  gymnasia,  the  forums,  and  temples,  it  was 
natural  to  expect  that  the  action  of  a Grecian 
tragedy  should  consist  in  some  great  public 
event,  which  interested  the  whole  body  of  the 
people.  The  scene  was  usually  the  portico  of 
a temple,  the  gate  of  a palace,  the  wide  ex- 
panse of  a forum,  or  market-place.  In  such 
places  many  spectators  must  be  supposed  pre- 
sent, who  would  naturally  take  part  in  an  ac- 
tion which  concerned  the  public  interest  and 
happiness.9  On  this  principle  was  introduced 


7 Xenoph.  Memor.  1.  iv.  c.  xv.  Laert.  1.  ii.  c.  xix.  et  seq. 
et  Cicero  de  Orat.  iii.  16. 

8 In  this  part  of  the  drama,  the  Philosophy  of  Euripides 
excels  the  loftiness  of  .Eschylus,  and  the  richness  of  Sopho- 
cles. It  is  sufficient  to  compare  the  works  of  the  three 
rivals,  to  perceive  that  the  chorus  in  Euripides  most  faith- 
fully answers  the  description  of  Horace : 

Ule  bonis  faveatque,  et  consilietur  amicis 
Et  regat  irat.os,  et  amet  peccare  timentes. 

Ille  dapes  laudet  mensie  brevis  ; ille  salubrem 
Justitiam,  legesque,  et  apertis  otia  portis; 

Ille  tegat  commissa;  deosque  precetur  et  oret, 

Ut  redeat  miseris,  abeat  fortune  superbis. 

9 In  the  CEdipus  Tyrannus,  the  chorus  is  composed  of 
priests,  senators,  Theban  youths,  &c.  Creon  says  to  (Edi- 
pus, 

Ei  T<avf»  Xgl'O'f  7r\.ttri*C,ovrv)V  y.Xvttv 

Erst/its;  eiTrsii/,  t its  xsti  <tth%hv  «<nu. 

The  answer  is 

E;  7rxvTcc { xv$x  TwvSt  yxg  trXtav  Qiguj 

IUvdof  V\  XOtl  T JJf  e/iJJj  7Tl£l 

Creon.  Shall  I speak  in  presence  of  this  numerous  as- 
sembly? or  shall  we  retire  ? 


the  ancient  chorus,  consisting  of  such  persons 
as  most  properly  suited  the  occasion,  and  who, 
though  not  immediately  or  principally  con- 
cerned in  the  catastrophe,  had  such  general 
and  indirect  interest,  as  kept  them  continually 
on  the  scene,  and  made  them  approve  or  con- 
demn, promote  or  oppose,  the  sentiments  and 
measures  of  the  actors.  The  chorus,  never 
quitting  the  stage,  necessarily  introduced  the 
unity  of  place  ; and  as  their  songs  and  dances 
between  the  acts  expressed  the  feelings  excited 
by  the  representation,  they  connected  the  pre- 
ceding act  with  that  which  immediately  follow- 
ed it,  and  rendered  the  whole  spectacle  unin- 
terrupted and  continuous.  The  music  of  the 
chorus  was  more  rich  and  various,  and  the 
poetry  more  elevated  and  glowing,  than  what 
could  be  admitted  into  the  acts,  or  ordinary 
dialogue,  which  was  confined  to  the  iambic 
measure  ; circumstances  which,  together  with 
the  numbers,  the  dresses,  the  dances,  and  ges- 
tures, of  these  fancied  spectators,  equally 
increased  the  magnificence  and  variety  of  the 
entertainment.  They  likewise  rendered  it  more 
alfecting ; since  nothing  is  more  proper  to  in- 
terest us  in  any  scene,  than  the  beholding  a 
great  number  of  persons  deeply  engaged  by  it, 
and  expressing  their  feelings  by  natural  tones 
and  movements.  But  the  principal  advantage 
of  the  chorus  was  to  furnish  the  poet  with  an 
opportunity  (without  loading  the  dialogue,  and 
rendering  it  too  sententious)  of  enforcing,  by 
all  the  power  of  fancy  and  of  numbers,  that 
moral  instruction,  which  was  occasionally  at- 
tempted by  iEschylus  and  Sophocles,  but  which 
forms  the  continual  end  and  aim  of  Euripides, 
who  had  a soul  to  feel,  and  a genius  to  express, 
whatever  is  most  lovely  and  most  excellent  in 
sentiment  and  character.  It  is  unnecessary  to 
mention  the  affecting  delicacy  of  Admetus  and 
his  attendants  towards  his  guest  Hercules  ; the 
lively  emotions  of  gratitude  in  that  hero ; the 
friendship  of  Py  lades  and  Orestes;  the  amiable 
picture  of  conjugal  affection  in  the  character  of 
Alcestis  ; since  the  whole  remains  of  that  ines- 
timable writer  prove  his  unceasing  labours  to 
warm  his  countrymen  with  all  the  virtues  and 
charities  that  adorn  private  life,  as  well  as  to 
keep  alive  an  ardent  love  of  the  republic,  and 
a generous  passion  for  its  glory  and  liberty  ; 
while,  in  several  passages,  he  describes  and  re- 
futes the  philosophy  of  Epicurus19  (which,  as  we 
have  already  observed,  was  chiefly  borrowed 
from  the  licentious  maxims  of  the  Sophists) 
with  such  fulness  and  accuracy  as  entitled  him 
to  the  appellation  of  the  Philosophic  Tragedian. 


CEdipus.  Speak  before  all  present;  for  the  public  dis- 
tress afflicts  me  more  than  my  own  danger. 

10  See  particularly  Alcest.  ver.  782,  &c.  and  ver.  960,  &c. 

Euripides  flourished  near  a hundred  years  before  Epicu- 
rus and  Zeno,  the  respective  founders  of  the  Epicurean  and 
Stoical  philosophy.  Yet  we  find  the  tenets  of  both  sects  in 
the  tragedian;  which  may  be  easily  explained,  by  consider- 
ing that  those  opposite  kinds  of  philosophy  arose  from  dif- 
ferent aspects  of  nature,  which  must  often  present  them- 
selves to  an  observing  eye ; and  as  the  doctrines  of  the 
Sophists  laid  the  foundation  for  the  moral  system  of  Epi- 
curus, so  the  moderate  doubt  of  Socrates,  and  tho  old 
academy,  was  corrupted  into  different  degrees  of  scepti- 
cism, according  to  the  fancy  of  their  successors ; nnd  his 
rational  preference  of  virtue  to  all  other  objects,  degene- 
rated into  a pretended  contempt  for  these  objects,  as  things 
totally  indifferent,  tho  insensibility  and  pedantry  of  the  Stoics. 


172 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


That  Euripides,  though  ten  years  older  than 
Socrates,  owed  the  characteristic  excellences 
of  his  works  to  the  conversation  and  friendship 
of  that  unrivalled  moralist,  is  universally  ac- 
knowledged by  antiquity  though  the  charac- 
ter and  intentions  both  of  the  poet  and  the  phi- 
losopher were  grossly  misrepresented  by  some 
of  their  contemporaries.  Before  the  commence- 
ment,  and  during  the  continuance  of  the  Pe- 
loponnesian war,  there  flourished  at  Athens  a 
class  of  men  who  were  the  declared  enemies, 
not  only  of  Socrates  and  his  disciples,  but  of  all 
order  and  decency.  The  reader  will  easily  per- 
ceive, that  I allude  to  Aristophanes,  and  the 
other  writers  of  the  old  licentious  comedy  ; an 
entertainment  which  was  never  carried  to  the 
same  vicious  excess  in  any  other  age  or  coun- 
try. Yet  this  hideous  spectre  was  the  sister  of 
Tragedy,  whose  angelic  sweetness  and  dignity 
were  long  accompanied  by  this  odious  and  dis- 
gusting form ; but  to  understand  the  natural 
connection  bet ween  objects  seemingly  so  differ- 
ent, it  is  necessary  to  remount  to  their  source. 

Tragedy,  the  song  of  the  goat,1 2  and  Comedy, 
the  song  of  the  village,  sufficiently  indicate,  by 
the  meanness  of  their  ancient  names,  the  humi- 
lity of  their  first  original.  They  arose  amidst 
the  sacrifices  and  joyous  festivity  of  the  vin- 
tage, in  a country  which  seldom  adopted  the 
amusements,  any  more  than  the  arts  and  in- 
stitutions, of  others,  but  which  was  destined  to 
communicate  her  own  to  all  the  civilized  por- 
tion of  mankind.  During  the  entertainments 
of  a season  peculiarly  dedicated  to  recreation 
and  pleasure,  the  susceptible  minds  of  the 
Greeks  naturally  yielded  to  two  propensities 
congenial  to  men  in  such  circumstances,  a dis- 
position to  exercise  their  sensibility,  and  a de- 
sire to  amuse  their  fancy.  Availing  himself  of 
the  former,  the  sublime  genius  of  iEschylus3 
improved  the  song  of  the  goat  into  a regular 
dramatic  poem,  agreeing  with  the  Iliad  and 
Odyssey  in  those  unalterable  rules  of  design 

1 EJo/csi  <ruft7r(nnv  Euei7r»S'>).  Diogen.  Lnert.  in  Vit. 
Socrat.  The  comic  poets,  who  envied  and  hated  Euripides, 
as  the  darling  of  the  public,  pretended  that  Socrates  had 
even  composed  all  the  finest  passases  in  his  tragedies.  Soon 
after  the  representation  of  the  the  Troes,  Mnesilochus  paro- 
died it  in  a farce,  which  he  called  <bgvysg,  Phrygians,  proba- 
bly to  have  an  opportunity  of  playing  on  the  word  ^goyavov, 
fuel. 

<!>gvysig  tarn  xxivov  tout’  EupiwiS'oo 

£1  xxt  XwxgXTqg  t«  tygvyxvx  vz-aTiSqn. 

“ The  Phrygians  is  a new  play  of  Euripides,  to  whom  So- 
crates furnishes  the  fuel.”  But  the  pun  cannot  be  trans- 
lated. The  same  Mnesilochus  calls  Euripides  a sort  of 
hammerman  to  Socrates, 

EugtiriStig  Eu)XgXTOyifi$evg. 

2 A goat,  as  the  particular  enemy  of  the  vine,  was  very 
properly  sacrificed  to  Bacchus,  whose  praises  composed  the 
song.  In  the  Antigone  of  Sophocles,  v.  1127, 

noX.va>vojus  Kx&uuxg 
No^tS*;  xyxX/xx^xxt  Ajoj 
'BxgvZgBfttrx  ysv oj,  &c. 

we  have  a specimen  of  what  formed  the  first  business  of 
tragedy. 

3 Aeschylus  is  said  by  Aristotle  (de  Arte  Poetica)  to  have 
introduced  interlocutors,  dialogue,  &c.  which  is  acknow- 
ledging him  the  father  of  tragedy.  We  know  little  of  Thes- 
pis, but  from  Horace : 

Ignotum  tragic®  genus  invenisse  camcen® 

Dicitur,  et  plaustris  vexisse  poemata  Thespis. 

The  plaustrum,  however,  has  a more  direct  reference  to 
comedy;  since  KxKeiv  u>g  s£  x[/.xfyg,  to  speak  as  from  a 
cart,  was  a common  Greek  expression  for  reviling  with 
gross  indecent  insolence. 


(Chap. 

1 and  execution  which  are  essential  to  the  per- 
fection of  every  literary  performance,  yet  dif- 
fering from  those  immortal  archetypes  of  art,  in 
a cirucmstance  naturally  suggested  by  the  oc- 
casion for  which  tragedies  were  composed.  It 
had  been  usual  with  the  Athenians,  when  they 
celebrated  in  the  spring  and  autumn  the  great 
festivals  of  Bacchus,  to  personate  the  exploits 
and  fables  handed  down  by  immemorial  tradi- 
tion concerning  that  bountiful  divinity;  this 
imitation  was  considered  as  a mark  of  gratitude 
due  to  the  beneficence  of  the  god,  to  whose 
honours  they  associated  the  kindred  worship 
of  Pan,  Silenus,  and  their  attendant  fawns  and 
satyrs.  When  iEschylus  represented,  there- 
fore, instead  of  simply  reciting,  the  real  his- 
tory, or  agreeable  fictions,  of  antiquity,  he  only 
adopted  a mode  of  imitation  already  practised 
in  the  religious  ceremonies  of  his  country ; a 
mode  of  imitation  more  powerful  than  the  epic, 
since,  instead  of  barely  describing  the  deeds  of 
gods  and  heroes,  it  shows  those  distinguished 
personages  on  the  scene,  makes  them  speak 
and  act  for  themselves,  and  thus  approaching 
nearer  to  reality,  is  still  more  forcible  and  af- 
fecting. 

As  tragedy  was  introduced  in  imitation  of 
the  more  serious  spectacles  of  the  Dionysian 
festival,  so  comedy,  which  soon  followed  it, 
was  owing  to  the  more  light  and  ludicrous 
parts  of  that  solemnity.4  Tragedy  is  the  imi- 
tation of  an  important  and  serious  action, 
adapted  to  affect  the  sensibility  of  the  specta- 
tors, and  to  gratify  their  natural  propensity  to 
fear,  to  weep,  and  to  wonder.  Comedy  is  the 
imitation  of  a light  and  ludicrous  action,  adapted 
to  amuse  the  fancy,  and  to  gratify  the  natural 
disposition  of  men  to  laughter  and  merriment. 
Terror  and  pity  have  in  all  ages  been  regarded 
as  the  main  springs  of  tragedy,  because  the 
laws  of  sensibility,  founded  solely  in  nature,  are 
always  the  same.  Comedy  has  been  infinitely 
varied  by  the  innumerable  modes  of  wit,  hu- 
mour, and  ridicule,  which  prevail  in  different 
ages  and  countries,  and  which  agree  scarcely 
in  any  one  particular,  unless  it  may  be  reckoned 
an  agreement,  that  men  have  seldom  indulged 
them,  except  at  the  expense  of  their  good-na- 
ture, and  often  of  their  virtue.  The  Grecian 
comedy  was  uncommonly  licentious ; the  pro- 
fligate characters  of  Aristophanes  and  his  con- 
temporaries, Mnesilochus,  Callias,  Eupolis,  and 
Cratinus,  contributed,  doubtless,  to  this  de- 
formity ; yet  these  poets  could  not  easily  have 
rendered  their  new  entertainment  agreeable  to 
the  taste5  and  prejudices  of  the  public,  without 


4 Horace  is  authentic,  and  the  most  agreeable  authority. 
Agricol®  pris-i,  fortes,  parvoque  beati 

Condita  post  frumenta,  levantes  tempore  festo 
Corpus,  et  ipsum  animuni  spe  finis  dura  ferentem, 
Cum  sociis  operurn,  pueris,  et  conjuge  fida, 

Tellurem  porco,  Silvanum  lacte  piabant, 

Floribus  et  vino  Genium,  memorem  brevis  *vi. 
Fescennina  per  hunc  invecta  licentia  morem 
Versibus  alternis  opnrobria  rustica  fudit,  &c.  &c. 
and  still  more  directly,  Ars  Poetic,  v.220,  &c. 

5 Horace  has  expressed,  with  his  usual  felicity,  the  situa 
tion  of  the  spectators,  and  the  fatal  necessity  of  humour 
ing  it: 

Asper 

Incolumi  gravitate  jocum  tentavit;  eo  quod 
Illecebris  erat  et  grata  novitate  morandus 
Spectator,  functusque  sacris,  et  potus  et  exlex. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


173 


XIII.] 

incorporating  in  them  the  substance  of  the 
phallic  songs,6  which  constituted  an  ancient  and 
essential  part  of  the  amusements  of  the  vintage. 
The  fond  admirers  of  antiquity  have  defended 
the  abominable  strains  of  these  licentious  poets, 
by  pretending,  that  their  intention  was  to  re- 
form vice,  not  to  recommend  it ; an  apology 
which,  if  admitted,  might  tend  to  exculpate  the 
writers,  but  could  never  justify  their  perform- 
ances, since  it  is  known  by  experience,  that 
lewd  descriptions  prove  a poison  rather  than  a 
remedy  ; and  instead  of  correcting  manners, 
tend  only  to  corrupt  them. 

Besides  the  general  licentiousness  of  the  an- 
cient comedy,  its  more  particular  characteristics 
resulted  from  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the 
Athenians,  during  the  time  of  its  introduction 
and  continuance.  The  people  of  all  ranks  at 
Athens  were  then  too  deeply  engaged  in  the 
military  and  political  transactions  of  their  coun- 
try, to  enjoy  any  amusement  which  did  not 
either  directly  flatter  their  passions,  or  bear  an 
immediate  relation  to  the  great  and  important 
interests  of  the  republic.  It  was  during  the 
confusion  and  calamities  of  the  Peloponnesian 
war,  that  all  the  comic  pieces  which  remain 
were  originally  represented ; a period  too  dis- 
orderly and  tumultuous  to  relish  comedies, 
such  as  are  now  written,  or  such  as  were  com- 
posed in  Greece  by  Menander,  in  an  age  of 
greater  moderation  and  tranquillity.  The  ele- 
gant and  ingenious,  the  moral  and  instructive 
strains  of  Moliere  or  Menander,  may  amuse 
the  idleness  of  wealth,  and  the  security  of 
peace.  But  amjdst  the  fermentation  of  war  and 
danger,  amidst  civil  dissensions  and  foreign  in- 
vasions, the  minds  of  men  are  too  little  at  ease 
to  enjoy  such  refined  and  delicate  beauties, 
which  then  appear  lifeless  and  insipid.  In  such 
turbulent  circumstances,  the  reluctant  attention 
must  be  excited  by  real,  instead  of  imaginary 
characters  ; by  a true,  instead  of  a fictitious 
event ; by  direct  and  particular  advice  concern- 
ing the  actual  state  of  their  affairs,  instead  of 
vague  or  abstract  lessons  of  wisdom  and  virtue. 
Coarse  buffoonery  may  often  force  them  to 
laugh ; delicate  ridicule  will  seldom  engage 
them  to  smile ; they  may  be  affected  by  the 
sharpness  of  personal  invective,  but  will  re- 
main impenetrable  to  the  shafts  of  general 
satire. 

By  combining  the  different  parts  of  this  de- 
scription, we  may  form  a tolerably  exact  notion 
of  the  writings  of  Aristophanes,  which  com- 
monly conceal,  under  a thin  allegorical  veil,  the 
recent  history  of  some  public  transaction,  or 
the  principal  features  of  some  distinguished 
character,  represented  in  such  a ludicrous  light, 
as  reflects  on  those  concerned,  unexpected,  and 
often  unmerited,  but  not  therefore  the  less 
striking,  flashes  of  insolent  ridicule.  Such  was 
the  nature,  and  such  the  materials  of  the  an- 
cient comedy,  which,  in  its  form,  agreed  entirely 
with  tragedy,  having  borrowed  from  this  enter- 
tainment (which  was  already  in  possession  of 
the  theatre)  the  distribution  of  the  whole,  as 
well  as  the  arrangement  of  the  several  parts  ; 


6 4>x\\og.  Priapus  %v\ov  sTri^tjxs;  e%c ov  sv  rai  a./.( to  <rxu- 

r«vov  etiSoiov,  Saidas.  This  was  carried  in  procession,  ac- 
companied with  the 


the  music,  the  chorus,  the  dresses,  decorations, 
and  machinery  ; all  of  which  were  so  modified 
and  burlesqued  as  suited  the  purposes  of  the 
comic  writer,  and  often  rendered  his  pieces 
little  else  than  parodies  of  the  more  fashionable 
tragedies  of  the  times. 

This  singular  species  of  drama,  which,  in  its 
less  perfect  state,  had  long  strolled  the  villages 
of  Attica,  was  simply  tolerated  at  Athens,  until 
the  profusion  of  Pericles,  and  his  complai- 
sance for  the  populace,  first  supplied  from  the 
exchequer  the  necessary  expenses  for  the  repre- 
sentation of  comedies,  and  proposed  prizes  for 
the  comic,  as  well  as  for  the  tragic,  poets  and 
actors.  But,  by  this  injudicious  encourage- 
ment, he  unwarily  cherished  a serpent  in  his 
bosom.  Aristophanes  and  his  licentious  con- 
temporaries having  previously  ridiculed  virtue 
and  genius,  in  the  persons  of  Socrates  and  Eu- 
ripides, boldly  proceeded  to  avail  themselves  of 
the  natural  malignity  of  the  vulgar,  and  their 
envy  against  whatever  is  elevated  and  illus- 
trious, to  traduce  and  calumniate  Pericles  him- 
self ; and  though  his  successors  in  the  adminis- 
tration justly  merited  (as  we  shall  have  occasion 
to  relate)  the  severest  lashes  of  their  invective, 
yet,  had  their  characters  been  more  pure,  they 
would  have  been  equally  exposed  to  the  un- 
provoked satire  of  those  insolent  buffoons,  who 
gratified  the  gross  appetites  of  the  vulgar,  by 
an  undistinguished  mass  of  ridicule,  involving 
vice  and  virtue,  things  profane  and  sacred, 
men  and  gods. 

Dramatic  entertainments  formed  an  essential 
part  of  the  festivals  consecrated  to  the  bounti- 
ful author  of  the  vine.  Minerva,  who  had  given 
not  only  the  olive,  but  what  was  deemed  far 
more  valuable,  her  peculiar  protection  to  the 
city  of  Athens,  was  rewarded  with  innumerable 
solemnities.  Jupiter  enjoyed  his  appropriated 
honours ; but  more  commonly,  as  is  attested  by 
Athenian  medals,  the  worship  of  the  father  of  the 
gods  was  associated  with  that  of  his  wife  and 
warlike  daughter.  We  shall  have  occasion  to 
speak  more  particularly  of  the  festival  and  mys- 
teries of  Ceres,  who  taught  the  Athenians  the 
important  knowledge  of  agriculture,  which  they 
were  supposed  to  have  diffused  over  the  ancient 
world.  It  would  be  endless  to  mention  the  in- 
stitutions in  honour  of  the  crowd  of  inferior  or 
less  propitious  divinities,  which  rendered  the 
festivals  at  Athens  twice  more  numerous  than 
in  any  other  Grecian  city.  Nor  did  their  fre- 
quency abate  any  thing  of  the  expensive 
splendour  which  accompanied  them.  The  shops 
and  courts  of  justice  were  shut ; the  mechanic 
quitted  his  tools,  the  husbandman  ceased  from 
his  labours,  the  mourner  intermitted  his  sorrow. 
The  whole  city  was  dissolved  in  feasting  and 
jollity  ; the  intervals  of  which  were  filled  up 
by  pompous  shows  and  processions,  by  con- 
certs of  music,  by  exhibitions  of  painting  ; and 
at  several  festivals,  particularly  the  Panathe- 
noean,  by  hearing  and  judging  the  noblest  pro- 
ductions of  eloquence  and  poetry.7  We  shall 
have  occasion  to  mention  some  particular  cere- 
monies of  a more  melancholy  cast;  but  the 
general  character  of  the  Grecian  religion  was 


7 Isocrat.  Panegyr.  ct  Panathen. 


174 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


as  cheerful  and  attractive,  as  the  supersti- 
tion of  the  Egyptians,  from  whom  they  are 
ignorantly  supposed  to  have  borrowed  it,  was 
gloomy  and  forbidding.  Even  the  Egyptian 
hymns  consisted  in  dismal  complaints  and  la- 
mentations j1  the  Grecian  solemnities  con- 
cluded with  songs  of  joy  and  exultation.  The 
feasts  which  folio  wed  the  sacrifices  were  enriched 
by  all  the  delicacies  and  luxuries  of  the  ancient 
world ; and,  to  use  the  words  of  Aristotle, 
many  persons  thought  it  their  duty,  at  those 
religious  entertainments,  to  get  drunk  in  honour 
of  the  gods.2 

It  seems  extraordinary,  that  the  revenues  of 
Athens,  notwithstanding  their  improvement  by 
Pericles,  should  have  sufficed  for  this  multitude 
of  expenses.  But  we  must  consider,  that  the 
general  simplicity  of  manners  in  private  life, 
formed  a striking  contrast  with  the  extrava- 
gance of  public  festivals  and  amusements.  The 
houses  and  tables  of  the  most  wealthy  Athe- 
nians were  little  distinguished  above  those  of 
their  poorest  neighbours.  Pericles  himself, 
though  never  suspected  of  avarice,  lived  with 
the  exactest  economy ; and  the  superabundance 
of  private  wealth,  which  would  have  created 
envy  and  danger  to  the  owner,  if  he  had  em- 
ployed it  for  his  particular  convenience  and 
pleasure,  procured  him  public  gratitude  and 
esteem,  when  expended  for  the  satisfaction  of 
the  multitude. 

For  reasons  which  will  immediately  appear, 
we  have  not  hitherto  found  it  necessary  to  de- 
scribe the  manners  and  influence  of  the  Grecian 
women  ; but  the  character  and  condition  of 
the  fair  sex  will  throw  light  on  the  preceding 
observations  in  this  chapter,  and  present  the 
most  striking  contrast  of  any  to  be  met  with  in 
history.  If  we  knew  not  the  consideration  in 
which  women  were  anciently  held  in  Greece, 
and  the  advantages  which  they  enjoyed  at 
Sparta,  after  the  laws  of  Lycurgus  had  revived 
the  institutions  of  the  heroic  ages,3  we  should 
be  apt  to  suspect  that  the  ungenerous  treat-, 
ment  of  the  feebler  sex,  which  afterwards  so 
universally  prevailed,  had  been  derived  from 
the  Egyptian  and  Asiatic  colonies,  which  early 
settled  in  that  part  of  Europe.  Excluded  from 
social  intercourse,  which  nature  had  fitted  them 
to  adorn,  the  Grecian  women  were  rigorously 
confined  to  the  most  retired  apartments  of  the 
family,  and  employed  in  the  meanest  offices  of 
domestic  economy.  It  was  thought  indecent 
for  them  to  venture  abroad,  unless  to  attend  a 
procession,  to  accompany  a funeral,4  or  to  as- 
sist at  certain  other  religious  solemnities.  Even 
on  these  occasions,  their  behaviour  was  atten- 
tively watched,  and  often  malignantly  inter- 
preted. The  most  innocent  freedom  was 
construed  into  a breach  of  decorum  ; and  their 
reputation,  once  sullied  by  the  slightest  impru- 
dence, could  never  afterwards  be  retrieved.  If 
such  unreasonable  severities  had  proceeded  from 
that  absurd  jealousy  which  sometimes  accom- 
panies a violent  love,  and  of  which  a certain 
degree  is  nearly  connected  with  the  delicacy  of 


1 Apulcius  de  Genio  Socratis. 

2 Arist.  Ethic,  ad  Nichom.  1.  viii.  c.  iii. 

3 Aristot.  Politic.  1.  ii.  p.  105. 

4 Lysias,  p.  420. 


[Chap. 

passion  between  the  sexes,  the  condition  of  the 
Grecian  women,  though  little  less  miserable, 
would  have  been  far  less  contemptible.  But 
the  Greeks  were  utter  strangers  to  that  refine- 
ment of  sentiment,5  which,  in  the  ages  of  chi- 
valry, and  which  still,  in  some  southern  coun- 
tries of  Europe,  renders  women  the  objects  of  a 
suspicious  but  respectful  passion,  and  leads 
men  to  gratify  their  vanity  at  the  expense  of 
their  freedom.  Married  or  unmarried,  the  Gre- 
cian females  were  kept  in  equal  restraint ; no 
pains  were  taken  to  render  them,  at  any  one 
period  of  their  lives,  agreeable  members  of  so- 
ciety ; and  their  education  was  either  entirely 
neglected,  or  confined  at  least  to  such  humble 
objects,  as,  instead  of  elevating  and  enlarging 
the  mind,  tended  only  to  narrow  and  to  debase  it 
Though  neither  qualified  for  holding  an  ho- 
nourable rank  in  society,  nor  permitted  to 
enjoy  the  company  of  their  nearest  friends  and 
relations,  they  were  thought  capable  of  super- 
intending or  performing  the  drudgery  of  do- 
mestic labour,  of  acting  as  stewards  for  their 
husbands,  and  thus  relieving  them  from  a 
multiplicity  of  little  cares,  which  seemed  un- 
worthy of  their  attention,  and  unsuitable  to 
their  dignity.  The  whole  burden  of  such  mer- 
cenary cares  being  imposed  on  the  women, 
their  first  instructions  and  treatment  were 
adapted  to  that  lowly  rank,  beyond  which  they 
could  never  afterwards  aspire.6  Nothing  was 
allowed  to  divert  their  minds  from  those  ser- 
vile occupations  in  which  it  was  intended  that 
their  whole  lives  should  be  spent ; no  liberal 
idea  was  presented  to  their  imagination,  that 
might  raise  them  above  the  "ignoble  arts  in 
which  they  were  ever  destined  to  labour ; the 
smallest  familiarity  with  strangers  was  deemed 
a dangerous  offence  ; and  any  intimacy  or  con- 
nection beyond  the  walls  of  their  own  family, 
a heinous  crime ; since  it  might  engage  them 
to  embezzle  the  household  furniture  and  effects 
committed  to  their  care  and  custody.  Even 
the  laws  of  Athens  confirmed  this  miserable 
degradation  of  women,  holding  the  security  of 
the  husband’s  property  a matter  of  greater  im- 
portance than  defending  the  wife’s  person  from 
outrage,  and  protecting  her  character  from  in- 
famy.7 By  such  illiberal  institutions  were  the 
most  amiable  part  of  the  human  species  in- 
sulted, among  a people  in  other  respects  the 
most  improved  of  all  antiquity.  They  were 
totally  debarred  from  those  refined  arts  and  en- 
tertainments, to  which  their  agreeable  qualities 
might  have  added  a new  charm.  Instead  of 
directing  the  taste,  and  enlivening  the  pleasures 
of  society,  their  value  was  estimated,  like  that 
of  the  ignoblest  objects,  merely  by  profit  or 
utility.  Their  chief  virtue  was  reserve,  and 
their  point  of  honour,  economy. 

The  extreme  depression  of  women  levelled 
the  natural  inequalities  of  their  temper  and 
disposition  ; the  prude,  the  coquette,  with  the 
various  intermediate  shades  of  female  charac- 
ter, disappeared ; and  all  the  modest  and  vir- 


5 Idem,  p.  435. 

6 Xenopli.  Memorab.  1.  v.  passim,  particularly  Socrates’s 
Discourse  with  Tschomachus. 

7 See  the  laws  quoted  by  Lysias,  explained  in  my  Intro 
ductory  Discourse  to  that  orator,  p.  100. 


175 


XIII.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


tuous  part  of  the  sex  (if  virtue  and  modesty- 
can  ever  be  the  effects  of  restraint)  were  re- 
duced to  humble  imitation  and  insipid  unifor- 
mity. But,  in  the  time  of  Pericles,  there  ap- 
peared and  flourished  at  Athens  a bolder  class 
of  females,  who  divested  themselves  of  the 
natural  modesty,  disdained  the  artificial  vir- 
tues, and  avenged  the  violated  privileges  of 
their  sex.  Asia,  the  mother  of  voluptuousness, 
produced  this  dangerous  brood,  whose  mere- 
tricious arts  and  occupations  met  with  no  check 
or  restraint  from  the  laxity  of  Ionian  morals, 
and  were  even  promoted  and  encouraged  by 
the  corruptions  of  Pagan  superstition.  In  most 
of  the  Greek  colonies  of  Asia,  temples  were 
erected  to  the  earthly  Venus;  where  courte- 
zans were  not  merely  tolerated,  but  honoured, 
as  priestesses  of  that  condescending  divinity.9 
The  wealthy  and  commercial  city  of  Corinth 
first  imported  this  innovation  from  the  East ; 
and  such  is  the  entravagance  of  the  human 
mind,  that  after  the  repulse  of  Xerxes,  the  ma- 
gistrates of  that  republic  ascribed  the  safety  of 
their  country  to  the  powerful  intercession  of 
the  votaries  of  Venus,  whose  j/ortraits  they 
caused  to  be  painted  at  the  public  expense,  as 
the  Athenians  had  done  those  of  the  warriors 
who  gained  the  battle  of  Marathon.10  The 
fame  of  all  those  accomplished,  but  mercenary- 
beauties,  though  highly  celebrated  by  the>  poets 
and  historians  of  the  times,  was  eclipsed  by 
the  splendour  of  Aspasia  of  Miletus,  who  set- 
tled at  Athens  under  the  administration  of  Pe- 
ricles, and  is  said  to  have  embarked  in  the  fleet 
with  which  that  fortunate  commander  subdued 
the  powerful  and  wealthy  island  of  Samos. 
The  personal  character  of  Aspasia  gave  tem- 
porary lustre  to  a profession,  which,  though 
exalted  by  the  casual  caprices  of  superstition, 
must  naturally  have  fallen  into  contempt ; 
since  later  writers  among  the  Greeks11  acknow- 
ledge, that  though  she  carried  on  a very  dis- 
honourable commerce  in  female  virtue,  yet  her 
wit  and  eloquence,  still  more  than  her  beauty, 
gained  her  extraordinary  consideration  among 
all  ranks  in  the  republic.  The  susceptible 
minds  of  the  Athenians  were  delighted  with 
what  their  absurd  institutions  rendered  a no- 
•relty,  the  beholding  the  native  graces  of  the 
•ox,  embellished  by  education.  Aspasia  is  said 


1 Athenaeus, ) siii.  et  Plutarch,  p.  637. 
f]  *cr  oud  Athen.  1.  xiii. 

1 F’tit  ;)  • Pericle. 


to  have  acquired  a powerful  ascendant  over 
Pericles  himself ; she  certainly  acquired  his 
protection  and  friendship  ; which  is  less  extra* 
ordinary  than  that  her  conversation  and  com 
pany  should  have  pleased  the  discernment  of 
the  sage  Socrates.  She  is  accused  (as  we  shall 
afterwards  have  an  opportunity  to  mention)  of 
having  excited,  from  motives  of  personal  re- 
sentment, the  war  of  Peloponnesus ; yet, 
calamitous  as  that  long  and  obstinate  conflict 
proved  to  Greece,  and  particularly  to  Athens, 
it  may  be  suspected  that  Aspasia  occasioned 
still  more  incurable  evils  to  both.  Her  exam- 
ple, and  still  more  her  instructions,  formed  a 
school  at  Athens,  by  which  her  dangerous  pro- 
fession was  reduced  into  system.  The  compa- 
nions of  Aspasia  served  as  models  for  painting 
and  statuary,  and  themes  for  poetry  and  pane- 
gyric. Nor  were  they  mere  objects,  but  the 
authors  of  many  literary  works,  in  which  they 
established  rules  for  the  behaviour  of  their 
lovers,  particularly  at  table  ; and  explained  the 
art  of  gaining  the  heart,  and  captivating  the 
affections  ;12  which  would  have  been  an  impru- 
dence, had  they  not  considered,  that  the  mys- 
teries of  their  calling  alone  lose  little  by  be- 
ing disclosed,  since  men  may  often  perceive 
the  snare,  without  having  courage  to  avoid  it. 
The  dress,  behaviour,  and  artifices  of  this  class 
of  women,  became  continually  more  seductive 
and  dangerous ; and  Athens  thenceforth  re- 
mained the  chief  school  of  vice  and  pleasure, 
as  well  as  of  literature  and  philosophy. 

It  has  been  already  hinted,  that  the  fine  arts, 
and  particularly  painting,  were  prostituted  to 
the  honour  of  harlots,  and  the  purposes  of 
voluptuousness.  Licentious  pictures  are  men- 
tioned by  ancient  writers  as  a general  source 
of  corruption,  and  considered  as  the  first  am- 
bush that  beset  the  safety  of  youth  and  inno- 
cence.13 Yet  this  unhappy  effect  of  the  arts 
was  only  the  vapour  that  accompanies  the  sun ; 
since  painting,  architecture,  and  above  all,  sta- 
tuary, attained  their  meridian  splendour  in  the 
age  of  Pericles ; and  shed  peculiar  glory  on 
this  period  of  Athenian  history,  not  only  by  the 
powers  of  genius  which  they  displaced,  but  by 
the  noble  purposes  to  which  they  were  directed. 
But  the  arts  of  design  form  so  important  a 
subject,  that  they  merit  to  be  examined  apart, 
in  the  following  chapter. 

12  Athenrcus,  ibid. 

13  Euripid.  in  Hippolyl. 


176 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chai\ 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

History  of  the  Arts  of  Design — Superiority  of  the  Greeks  in  those  Arts — Causes  of  that  Supe 
riority — Among  the  Asiatic  Greeks — Who  communicated  their  Inventions  to  Europe — Bathy- 
cles  the  Magnesian — Dipenus  and  Scillis — Imitated  in  Greece , Italy,  and  Sicily — The  Athe- 
nians surpass  their  Masters — Sublime  Style  of  Art — Works  of  Phidias , Polygnotus , kc. — 
Characteristic  Excellence  of  Grecian  Art — Different  Impressions  made  by  Painters  and  Poets — 
Depended  on  the  Mature  of  their  respective  Arts. 


■T^HAT  the  history  of  arts  has  been  less  cul- 
tivated  than  that  of  arms  and  politics,  is  a 
general  and  just  complaint,  to  which  writers 
will  seldom  be  inclined  to  pay  regard,  because 
they  will  always  find  it  an  easier  task  to  relate 
wars  and  negotiations,  debates  and  battles, 
than  to  describe  the  gradual  and  almost  imper- 
ceptible progress  of  genius  and  taste,  in  works 
of  elegance  and  beauty. 

The  origin  of  the  imitative1  arts  (so  conge- 
nial is  imitation  to  man)  reaches  beyond  the 
limits  of  profane  history  ; and  to  dispute  who 
were  their  inventors,  is  only  to  examine  what 
nation  is  the  most  ancient.  In  this  respect,  the 
Egyptians  and  Phoenicians  merit,  doubtless,  the 
pre-eminence.  From  the  earliest  ages  of  Hea- 
then antiquity,  both  these  nations  seem  to  have 
cultivated  the  arts  of  design.  In  the  remotest 
periods  of  their  history,  the  Egyptians  engraved 
on  precious  stones,  and  strove  to  render  their 
public  transactions  immortal,  by  recording  them 
in  hieroglyphics,  on  the  hardest  bazaltes ; nor 
can  we  sufficiently  admire  the  perfection  to 
which  the  patience  of  that  laborious  people  had 
carried  the  mechanical  part  of  sculpture,  before 
the  Persian  conquest,  and  the  reign  of  Cam- 
byses.  But  beauty,  the  essence  and  the  end  of 
art,  was  never  studied  by  the  natives  of  either 
Phoenicia  or  Egypt,  who  faithfully  copied  their 
national  features,  without  attempting  to  im- 
prove them  ; until  the  traces  of  Grecian  con- 
quest and  colonization  appeared  in  the  medals 
of  the  Ptolemies,  particularly  those  with  the 
head  of  Jupiter  Ammon. 

Allowance,  doubtless,  must  be  made  for  the 
prejudices  of  national  vanity,  when  Euripides, 
Aristotle,  and  Epicurus,  endeavour  to  persuade 
us,  that  the  clear  skies  and  happy  temperature 
of  Greece  engendered  a peculiar  aptitude  for 
arts,  letters,  and  philosophy.  The  testimony, 
however,  of  modern  travellers  confirms  the 
evidence  of  antiquity,  that  the  shores  and 
islands  of  the  Archipelago  produce  more  ele- 
gant and  liberal  forms,  and  features  more  ani- 
mated and  expressive,  with  fewer  individual 
imperfections,  and  more  of  general  nature, 
than  can  be  found  in  any  other  divisions  of  the 
world.2  Yet  whatever  the  Greeks  owed  to 
their  skies  and  climate,  they  were  probably  not 
less  indebted  to  their  active  laborious  education 
and  way  of  life,  and  to  the  manly  spirit  of 
their  religious,  civil,  and  military  institutions. 


1 Concerning  the  arts  of  the  Greeks,  the  most  copious 
materials  are  furnished  by  Pausanias  throughout;  and  by 
the  34th  and  35th  books  of  Pliny.  The  best  modern  guides 
are  Winckelman  and  Lessing  in  German,  and  Caylus  in 
French  Many  important  errors  of  Winckelman,  are  de- 
tected by  the  learned  professor  Heine,  in  his  Antiquarishe 
Abhandlungen. 

2 Belon.  Observat.  I.  ii.  34. 


Long  before  the  invasion  of  Xerxes,  the  Gre- 
cian sculpture  was  distinguished  by  an  air  of 
majesty  peculiar  to  itself ;3  and  the  awful 
images  of  the  gods,  as  yet  rudely  finished,  dis- 
played a grandeur  and  sublimity  of  expression, 
that  delighted  and  astonished  the  best  judges, 
in  the  most  refined  ages  of  art.4 

This  singularity  might  be  expected  from  the 
description  already  given  of  the  religion  and 
manners  of  Greece,  and  from  the  inimitable 
excellence  of  its  poets.  The  divinities  of 
Greece  being  imagined  of  the  human  form, 
though  incomparably  more  noble  and  perfect, 
artists  would  naturally  begin,  at  a very  early 
period,5  to  exalt  and  generalize  their  concep- 
tions. The  bold  enthusiasm  of  poetry  served 
to  elevate  and  support  their  flight,  and  the  na- 
tive country  of  Homer  was  the  first  scene  of 
their  success,  the  happy  climate  of  Ionia  ren- 
dering frequent  and  natural,  in  that  delightful 
region,  those  beautiful  and  lovely  forms  which 
are  elsewhere  merely  ideal,  while  other  cir- 
cumstances concurred  to  accelerate  the  pro- 
gress of  invention  and  genius  in  that  highly- 
favoured  country. 

In  the  eighth  century  before  the  Christian 
era,  the  Asiatic  colonies,  as  we  already  had  oc- 
casion to  explain',  far  surpassed  their  mother 
country  in  splendour  and  prosperity.  For  this 
pre-eminence,  they  were  indebted  to  the  supe- 
rior fertility  of  their  soil,  the  number  and  con- 
venience of  their  harbours,  the  advantages  of 
their  situation  and  climate,  the  vicinity  of  the 
most  wealthy  and  refined  nations  in  Asia; 
above  all,  to  their  persevering  diligence  and 
ingenuity,  by  which  they  not  only  improved 
and  ennobled  the  arts  derived  from  the  Lydians 
and  Phrygians,  but  invented  others  long  pecu- 
liar to  themselves,  particularly  painting,  sculp- 
ture in  marble,  together  with  the  Doric  and 
Ionic  orders  of  architecture. 

In  the  seventh  century  before  Christ,  the 
magnificent  presents  which  the  far-famed  oracle 
of  Apollo  received  from  the  superstition  or 
vanity  of  the  Lydian  kings,  were  the  produc- 
tions, not  of  Egyptian  or  Phoenician,  but  of 
Ionian  artists ; and,  during  both  that  and  the 
following  century,  the  Ionians  diffused  the  ele- 
gant inventions  of  their  country  through  the  do- 
minions of  their  ancestors  in  Europe.  Alarmed 


3 Pausan.  Corinth.  1.  ii.  34. 

4 Plato  et  Aristot.  passim. 

5 We  omit  the  fabulous  accounts  of  Dedalus  the  Athe- 
nian, who  is  said  to  have  flourished  in  the  time  of  Hercules 
and  Theseus,  and  forty  years  before  the  Trojan  war.  It 
has  been  already  proved  that,  during  the  heroic  ages,  the 
Greeks  paid  no  adoration  to  statues.  Athenian  wri- 
ters, who  lived  a thousand  years  after  that  period,  might 
easily  confound  the  supposed  works  of  the  ancient  Dedalus 
with  those  of  Dedalus  of  Sicyon,  especially  since  the  error 
was  extremely  flattering  to  their  national  vanity. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


177 


XIV.] 

by  the  inroads  of  the  Cimmerians,  and  dis- 
turbed by  the  continual  hostility  of  Lydia, 
many  Eastern  artists  sought  refuge  in  the  com- 
mercial cities  of  iEgina,  Sicyon,  and  Corinth, 
where  the  peaceful  spirit  of  the  inhabitants, 
comparatively  wealthy  and  luxurious,  afforded 
the  Ionian  artists  both  encouragement  and  se- 
curity. 

The  Asiatic  fugitives,  however,  did  not  con- 
fine themselves  to  these  secondary  republics. 
Bathycles,  a native  of  Ionian  Magnesia,  a place 
early  celebrated  for  painting,6  fixed  his  abode 
in  Sparta,  the  most  considerable  community  in 
Greece.  By  order  of  the  magistrates  of  that 
illustrious  republic,  he  made  the  throne  of 
Amyclsean  Apollo,  the  statue  of  Diana  Leu- 
cophryne,  the  figures  of  the  Graces  and  Horse, 
and  all  the  other  gifts  and  ornaments  inclosed 
within  the  consecrated  ground  surrounding  the 
temple  of  Amyclae.  The  statue  of  Apollo, 
thirty  cubits  high,  seemed  to  be  the  work  of  an 
ignorant  sculptor,  and  probably  was  the  pro- 
duction of  a far  earlier  age  than  that  of  Bathy- 
cles. But  whoever  considers  the  colossean  bulk 
of  the  principal  figure,  the  base  of  which  was 
formed  into  an  altar,  containing  the  tomb  of 
Hyacinth,  must  admire  the  proportional  mag- 
nitude of  his  throne,  both  sides  of  which  were 
adorned  with  sculpture.7  Among  these  orna- 
ments, many  subjects  of  history  or  fable  are 
mentioned  by  Pausanias,  which  bear  no  known 
relation  to  Apollo  or  Hyacinth,  to  Bathycles  or 
the  Spartans ; but  the  top  of  the  throne  con- 
tained a chorus  of  Magnesians,  supposed  to 
represent  the  artists  who  assisted  in  the  execu- 
tion of  this  stupendous  -vork.  The  altar  re- 
presented a celestial  group,  Minerva,  Venus, 
Diana,  and  several  other  divinities,  conveying 
Hyacinth  to  the  skies.  Its  sides  were  adorned 
with  the  combat  of  Tyndareus  and  Eurytus ; 
the  exploits  of  Castor  and  Pollux  ; and  the  ex- 
traordinary scene  between  Menelaus  and  the 
Egyptian  Proteus,  as  described  in  the  Odyssey.6 
Nor  was  this  the  only  subject  copied  from  the 
divine  bard.  It  was  easy  to  distinguish  his 
favourite  Demodocus  singing  among  a chorus 
of  Phaeatians  ; a circumstance  confirming  our 
observations  in  a former  part  of  this  work,  that 
the  poems  of  Homer  were  generally  known  in 
Sparta  long  before  they  had  been  collected  by 
the  Athenian  tyrant  Pisistratus. 

Almost  six  centuries  before  the  Christian  era, 
the  Cretans,  Dipenus  and  Scillis,  adorned  many 
Grecian  cities  in  Europe  as  well  as  in  Asia; 
and  about  fifty  years  afterward,  the  Chians, 
Bupalus  and  Anthermus,  diffused  over  Greece 
those  precious  works  in  Parian  marble,  which 
were  highly  admired  in  the  age  of  Augustus.6 

6 Plin.  I.  xxxv.  I call  it  Ionian  Magnesia,  to  distinguish 
it  from  other  places  of  the  same  name.  Vid.  Plin.  edit. 
Berolin.  tom.  i.  p.  167.  el  tom.  iii.  p.  136.  139.  et  255. 

7 Winkelman,  who  scarcely  mentions  the  throne  of 
Amycliean  Apollo,  though  undoubtedly  the  greatest  ancient 
monument  in  Greece,  confounds  Bathycles  the  Magnesian, 
with  a later  artist  of  the  same  name,  who  made  the  cele- 
brated cup  which  the  seven  sages  modestly  sent  one  to  the 
other,  as  most  worthy  of  such  a present,  and  which  was 
finally  consecrated  to  Delphian  Apollo.  Diogenes  Laer- 
tius, speaking  on  this  subject,  says,  B*9vxXis5  nvx  AexxXa; 
and  that  he  was  an  Arcadian  appears  also  from  I’lut.  in 
Solon,  et  Causabon,  ad  Athenaeum,  1.  xi.  4. 

8 Pausan.  Lacon.  p.  196,  et  soq. 

9 Vid.  Plin.  1.  xxxvi.  $ 4. 

z 


About  the  same  time,  Polydorus  of  Samos,  who 
seems  to  have  been  much  employed  by  Croesus, 
the  last  king  of  Lydia,  made  the  fatuous  ring 
for  the  Samian  tyrant  Polycrates,  which  is  ex- 
tolled by  Pliny16  as  a master-piece  of  art. 

The  productions  of  those  Eastern  artists 
were  imitated  with  successful  emulation  by 
their  disciples  in  ancient  Greece,  and  likewise 
by  the  Grecian  colonies  in  Italy  and  Sicily  ; as 
sufficiently  appears  from  the*medals  of  those 
last-mentioned  countries.  These  more  durable 
monuments,  however,  can  afford  but  an  imper- 
fect idea  of  the  innumerable  statues  which  were 
formed  of  turf  or  gravel  stone,11  and  of  various 
kinds  of  wood.  The  most  esteemed  were  made 
of  ivory,  which,  like  the  teeth  of  other  animals, 
calcines  under  ground  ; an  unfortunate  circum- 
stance for  the  arts,  since,  before  the  invasion 
of  Xerxes,  Greece  could  boast  a hundred  ivory 
statues  of  the  gods,  all  of  a colossean  magni- 
tude, and  many  of  them  covered  with  gold.12 
The  white  marbles  of  Paros,  together  with 
those  of  Cyprus  and  iEgina,  furnished  the  chief 
materials  for  sculpture,  before  the  Athenians 
opened  the  hard  sparkling  veins  of  mount  Pon- 
telicus.  Ebony,  cypress,  and  other  materials, 
were  gradually  brought  into  use,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  more  general  diffusion  of  the  art, 
which  was  destined  not  only  to  represent  gods 
and  heroes,  but  to  commemorate  the  useful 
merit  of  illustrious  citizens.13  At  the  four  sacred 
festivals  common  to  the  Grecian  name,  the 
victors  in  the  gymnastic  exercises,  as  well  as 
in  the  musical  and  poetical  entertainments,  were 
frequently  distinguished  by  the  honour  of  a 
statue.  The  scenes  of  those  admired  solemni- 
ties thus  became  the  principal  repositories  of 
sculpture : and  the  cities  of  Delphi  and  Olympia, 
in  particular,  long  surpassed  the  rest  of  Greece 
in  the  number  and  value  of  their  statues,  as 
well  as  in  the  splendour  and  magnificence  of 
all  their  other  ornaments.14 

But  the  time  approached  when  those  cities 
themselves  were  to  be  eclipsed  by  the  lustre  of 
Athens,  which,  in  the  course  of  forty  years, 
became  the  seat  not  only  of  opulence,  power, 
and  politics,  but  of  literature,  philosophy,  and 
the  fine  arts,  and  thenceforth  continued  to  be 
regarded  as  the  sovereign  of  Greece,  rather 
than  as  the  capital  of  the  narrow  and  unfruitful 
territory  of  Attica.  During  that  memorable 
period,  the  Athenians,  whose  circumstances 
had  hitherto  proved  little  favourable  to  the 
progress  of  taste  and  elegance,  acquired  unri- 
valled power  and  renown.  Having  disgraced 
the  arms,  they  plundered  the  wealth  of  Persia. 
Their  valour  gave  them  possession  of  those 
maritime  provinces  of  Lower  Asia,  which  were 
justly  regarded  as  the  cradle  of  the  arts.  Their 
magnanimity  and  firmness  commanded  respect 
abroad,  and  ensured  pre-eminence  in  Greece  ; 
while,  by  a rare  felicity,  their  republic,  amidst 
this  uninterrupted  flow  of  external  prosperity, 
produced  men  capable  to  improve  the  gifts  of 
valour  or  fortune  to  the  solid  and  permanent 
glory  of  their  country. 

It  is  difficult  to  determine  whether  the  dis- 


10  L.  xxxvii.  § 4.  11  Plut.  in  Vit.  Andoc. 

12  Pausanias.  13  Lucian.  Imagin. 

14  Pausanias  Phocic.  and  Eliac. 


178 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


cerning  encouragement  of  Pericles  was  more 
useful  in  animating  the  industry  of  Phidias,  or 
the  genius  of  Phidias  in  seconding  the  views 
of  his  illustrious  protector.  Their  congenial 
minds  seemed  as  happily  formed  for  each  other, 
as  both  were  admirably  adapted  to  the  flour- 
ishing circumstances  of  their  country.  In  the 
language  of  Plutarch,1  this  great  minister,  whose 
virtues  gradually  rendered  him  the  master 
of  the  republic,  found  Athens  well  furnished 
with  marble,  brass,  ivory,  gold,  ebony,  and 
cypress,  together  with  all  the  other  materials 
fitted  to  adorn  a city,  which,  having  raised  to 
the  glory  of  empire,  he  wished  likewise  to  ren- 
der the  model  of  elegance.  According  to  the 
popular  principles  which  he  professed,  he 
deemed  it  the  duty  of  a statesman  to  provide 
not  merely  for  the  army,  the  navy,  the  judges, 
and  others  immediately  employed  in  the  public 
service  ; the  great  body  of  the  people  he  re- 
garded as  the  constant  and  most  important 
object  of  his  ministerial  care.  The  immense 
revenues  of  the  state,  which  had  hitherto  been 
chiefly  squandered  in  shows  and  festivals,  in 
gaudy  ostentation  and  perishing  luxury,  he 
directed  to  objects  more  solid  and  durable, 
which,  while  they  embellished  the  city,  might 
exercise  the  industry  and  display  the  talents  of 
the  citizens.  Guided  by  such  motives,  he  boldly 
opened  the  treasury,  and  expended  about  four 
thousand  talents ; a sum  which  then  might 
command  as  much  labour  as  six  or  seven  mil- 
lions sterling  in  the  present  age.  By  this  liberal 
encouragement,  he  animated  every  art,  excited 
every  hand,  enlivened  every  exertion,  and  called 
forth  into  the  public  service  the  whole  dexterity, 
skill,  and  genius  of  his  countrymen  ; while  the 
motives  of  gain  or  glory  which  he  proposed, 
allured  from  all  quarters  the  most  ingenious 
strangers,  who  readily  transported  their  talents 
to  Athens,  as  to  the  best  market,  and  most  con- 
spicuous theatre. 

But  it  was  the  peculiar  felicity  of  Pericles,  to 
find  Athens  provided  not  only  in  all  the  mate- 
rials of  art,  but  in  artists  capable  of  employing 
them  to  the  best  advantage.  In  the  inaccurate, 
but  often  expressive,  language  of  Pliny,  sculp- 
ture and  painting  then  first  arose,  under  the 
plastic  hands  of  Phidias  and  his  brother  Panae- 
nus.  Both  arts,  however,  are  known  to  have 
flourished  at  an  earlier  period  ; but  in  the  age 
of  Pericles,  they  assumed  more  elevation  and 
majesty.  The  inventive  genius  of  man  tried  a 
new  and  nobler  flight.  The  superiority  of  Phi- 
dias and  his  contemporaries  obscured,  and 
almost  obliterated,  the  memory  of  their  pre- 
decessors, and  produced  that  sublime  style  of 
art,  which,  having  flourished  about  a hundred 
and  fifty  years,  decayed  with  the  glory  of 
Greece,  and  disappeared  soon  after  the  reign 
of  Alexander. 

It  appears  from  the  gems  and  medals,  and 
the  few  remains  in  marble,  preceding  the  age 
of  Pericles,  that  the  mechanical  part  of  engrav- 
ing and  sculpture  had  already  attained  a high 
degree  of  perfection.  In  many  of  those  works, 
the  minutest  ornaments  are  finished  with  care, 
the  muscles  are  boldly  pronounced,  the  outline 


[Chap, 

is  faithful ; but  the  design  has  more  hardness 
than  energy,  the  attitudes  are  too  constrained 
to  be  graceful,  and  the  strength  of  the  expres- 
sion distorts,  and  for  the  most  part  destroys, 
beauty.  The  sculptors  Phidias,  Polycletus, 
Scopas,  Alcamenes,  and  Myron,  together  with 
the  contemporary  painters,  Pansenus,  Zeuxis, 
and  Parrhasius,  softened  the  asperities  of  their 
predecessors,9  rendered  their  contours  more 
natural  and  flowing,  and  by  employing  greater 
address  to  conceal  the  mechanism  of  their  art, 
displayed  superior  skill  to  the  judgment,  and 
afforded  higher  delight  to  the  fancy,  in  propor- 
tion as  less  care  and  labour  appeared  visible  to 
the  eye.  In  the  works  of  those  admired  artists, 
the  expression  was  skilfully  diffused  through 
every  part,  without  disturbing  the  harmony  of 
the  whole.  Pain  and  sorrow  were  rather  con- 
centrated in  the  soul  than  displayed  on  the 
countenance  ; and  even  the  more  turbulent 
passions  of  indignation,  anger,  and  resentment, 
were  so  tempered  and  ennobled,  that  the  indi- 
cations of  them  became  consistent  with  the 
sublimest  grace  and  beauty.  But  the  triumph 
of  art  consisted  in  representing  and  recom- 
mending the  social  affections ; for,  setting  aside 
the  unwarranted  assertions  of  Pliny,  in  his  pre- 
tended epochs  of  painting,  it  appears  from  much 
higher  authority,  that  as  early  as  the  age  of 
Socrates,  painters  had  discerned  and  attained 
that  admired  excellence  of  style,  which  has 
been  called  in  modern  times  the  manner  of  Ra- 
phael ; and  had  learned  to  express,  by  the  out- 
ward air,  attitude,  and  features,  whatever  (in 
the  words  of  Xenophon2 3 *)  is  most  engaging, 
affectionate,  sweet,  attractive,  and  amiable,  in 
the  inward  sentiments  and  character.  Of  these 
Grecian  paintings,  indeed,  which  were  chiefly 
on  wood,  and  other  perishing  materials,  no  ves- 
tige remains ; but  the  statuary  of  that  cele- 
brated age,  while  it  displays  its  own  excellence, 
is  sufficient  to  redeem  from  oblivion  (as  far  at 
least  as  invention,  expression,  and  ideal  beauty, 
are  concerned)  the  obliterated  charms  of  the 
sister  art. 

In  statuary,  the  superior  merit 
, * ..f*  of  Phidias  was  acknowledged  by 

iXXXlll  4 • o j 

A C 44"  unammous  admiration  of  inde- 
' * * pendent  and  rival  communities. 

Intrusted  by  Pericles  with  the  superintendence 
of  the  public  works,  his  own  hands  added  to 
them  their  last  and  most  valuable  ornaments. 
Before  he  was  called  to  this  honourable  em- 
ployment, his  statues  had  adorned  the  most 
celebrated  temples  of  Greece.  His  Olympian 
Jupiter  we  had  already  occasion  to  describe.  In 
the  awful  temple  of  Delphi,  strangers  admired 
his  bronze  statues  of  Apollo  and  Diana.  He 
likewise  made  for  the  Delphians  a group  of 
twelve  Grecian  heroes,  surrounding  a figure  of 
brass,  that  represented  the  Trojan  horse.  Hi* 
admired  statue  of  the  goddess  Nemesis,  or  Ven- 
geance, was  formed  from  a block  of  marble, 
which  the  vain  confidence  of  the  Persians 
transported  to  Marathon  for  a trophy  of  victory, 
but  which  their  disgraceful  and  precipitate 


1 Plut.  in  Pericle. 


2 Plut.  in  Pericle  et  Quintilian,  1.  xii.  c.  x.  p.  578. 

3 See  the  conversation  of  Socrates  with  the  painter 

Parrhasius,  in  Memorab.  1.  iii. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


179 


XIV.] 

flight  left  for  a monument  of  their  cowardice 
on  the  Marathonian  shore.  The  grateful  piety 
of  Greece  adored  his  Venus  Urania,  and  Par- 
thenopean  Apollo.  His  three  Minervas  were 
respectively  made  for  the  Pallenians,  Plateeans, 
and  Lemnians,  and  all  three  presented  by  those 
tributary  states  to  their  Athenian  protectors 
and  sovereigns.  These  inimitable  works  silenced 
the  voice  of  envy.  The  most  distinguished  artists 
of  Greece,  sculptors,  painters,  and  architects, 
. £ were  ambitious  to  receive  the  direc- 

' .nn  tions,  and  to  second  the  labours,  of 

° * Phidias,  which  were  uninterrupt- 

edly employed,  during  fifteen  years,  in  the  em- 
bellishment of  his  native  city. 

During  that  short  period  he  completed  the 
Odeum,  or  theatre  of  music ; the  Parthenon,  or 
temple  of  Minerva ; the  Propylaea  or  vestibule, 
and  porticoes  belonging  to  the  citadel,  together 
with  the  sculptured  and  picturesque  ornaments 
of  these  and  other  immortal  works ; which,  when 
new  (as  Plutarch  finely  observes,)  expressed 
the  mellowed  beauties  of  time  and  maturity, 
and  when  old,  still  preserved  the  fresh  charms 
and  alluring  graces  of  novelty.  The  Parthenon, 
which  still  remains,  attests  the  justice  of  this 
panegyric.  It  is  two  hundred  and  seventeen 
feet  nine  inches  long,  composed  of  beautiful 
white  marble,  and  acknowledged  by  modern 
travellers4  to  be  the  noblest  piece  of  antiquity 
existing  in  the  world.  It  appears  at  first  sight 
extraordinary,  that  the  expense  of  two  thou- 
sand talents  should  have  been  bestowed  on  the 
Propylasa.5  But  we  must  consider,  that  this 
extensive  name  comprehended  the  temple  of 
Minerva,  the  treasury,  and  other  public  edi- 
fices. 

The  Pcecile,  or  diversified  portico,  which  was 
painted  by  Pansenus,  the  brother  of  Phidias, 
assisted  by  Polygnotus  and  Micon,  must  have 
been  a work  of  great  time  and  expense.  Its 
front  and  ceilings  were  of  marble,  like  those 
of  all  the  other  porticoes  leading  to  the  citadel, 
which  still  remained  in  the  time  of  Pausanias, 
and  were  regarded,  both  on  account  of  the 
workmanship  and  materials,  as  superior  to  any 
thing  extant.  In  the  Pcecile,  those  great  paint- 
ers, whose  merit  Pliny6  forgets  in  his  inaccu- 
rate epochs  of  art,  had  represented  the  most 
illustrious  events  of  Grecian  history;  the  vic- 
tory of  Theseus  over  the  Amazons,  the  sacking 
of  Troy,  and  particularly  the  recent  exploits 
against  the  Persians.  In  the  battle  of  Mara- 
thon, the  Athenian  and  Plataean  heroes  were 
drawn  from  the  life,  or  more  probably  from  the 
innumerable  statues  which  preserved  the  faith- 
ful lineaments  of  those  illustrious  patriots.  The 
whole  extent  of  the  Acropolis,  above  six  miles 
in  circumference,  was  so  diversified  by  works 
of  painting  and  statuary,  that  it  became  one 
continued  scene  of  elegance  and  beauty. 

But  all  these  ornaments  were  surpassed  by 
one  production  of  Phidias,  which  probably  was 
the  last  of  that  great  master:  his  admired  statue 
of  Minerva,  the  erecting  of  which  served  to 
consecrate  the  Parthenon,  was  composed  of 


4 Sir  George  Wheeler’s  Travels,  &c. 

5 Plutarch,  in  Pericle,  et  Demosth.  p.  71. 

6 He  places  the  first  epoch  of  great  painters  in  tfie  20th 

Olymp.  A.  C.  420. 


gold  and  ivory,  twenty-six  cubits  high,  being 
of  inferior  dimensions  to  his  Minerva  Poliades 
of  bronze,  the  spear  and  crest  of  which  was 
seen  from  the  promontory  of  Sunium,7  at 
twenty-five  miles  distance.  Parrhasius  had 
painted  the  ornaments  of  the  latter,6  Phidias 
himself  adorned  every  part  of  the  former ; and, 
the  compliment  which,  in  this  favourite  work, 
he  took  an  opportunity  of  paying  to  the  merit 
of  Pericles,  occasioned  (as  we  shall  have  occa- 
sion to  explain9)  his  own  banishment,  a dis- 
grace which  he  seems  not  to  have  long  sur- 
vived. Cicero,  Plutarch,  Pliny,  and  Pausanias, 
had  seen  and  admired  this  invaluable  monu- 
ment of  piety,  as  well  as  genius,  since  the 
Minerva  of  Phidias  increased  the  devotion  of 
Athens  towards  her  protecting  divinity.  It  be- 
longs only  to  those  who  have  seen  and  studied, 
to  describe  such  master-pieces  of  art;  and  as 
they  exist  no  more,  it  will  better  suit  the  design 
of  this  history,  to  confine  ourselves  to  such 
works  as  we  ourselves  have  seen,  and  which 
are  generally  acknowledged  to  bear  the  impres- 
sion of  the  Socratic  age,  when  philosophy  gave 
law  to  painting  and  sculpture,  as  well  as  to 
poetry  and  eloquence. 

Were  it  allowed  to  make  the  melancholy 
supposition,  that  all  the  monuments  of  Grecian 
literature  had  perished  in  the  general  wreck 
of  their  nation  and  liberty,  and  that  posterity 
could  collect  nothing  farther  concerning  that 
celebrated  people,  but  what  appeared  from  the 
Apollo  Belvidere,  the  groupes  of  the  Laocoon 
and  Niobe,  and  other  statues,  gems,  or  medals, 
now  scattered  over  Italy  and  Europe,  what 
opinion  would  mankind  form  of  the  genius  and 
character  of  the  Greeks?  would  it  correspond 
with  the  impressions  made  by  their  poets,  ora- 
tors, and  historians?  which  impression  would 
be  most  favourable?  and  what  would  be  the 
precise  difference  between  them?  The  solution 
of  these  questions  will  throw  much  light  on  the 
present  subject. 

The  first  observation  that  occurs  on  the  most 
superficial,  and  that  is  strongly  confirmed  by  a 
more  attentive,  survey  of  the  ancient  marbles, 
is,  that  their  authors  perfectly  understood  pro- 
portion, anatomy,  the  art  of  clothing,  without 
concealing  the  naked  figure,  and  whatever  con- 
tributes to  the  justness  and  truth  of  design. 
The  exact  knowledge  of  form  is  as  necessary 
to  the  painter  or  statuary,  whose  business  it  is 
to  represent  bodies,  as  that  of  language  to  the 
poet  or  historian,  who  undertakes  to  describe 
actions.  In  this  particular,  it  would  be  unneces- 
sary to  institute  a comparison  between  Grecian 
writers  and  artists,  since  they  are  both  allowed 
as  perfect  in  their  respective  kinds  as  the  con- 
dition of  humanity  renders  possible. 

But  when  we  advance  a step  farther,  and 
consider  the  expression  of  passions,  sentiments, 
and  character,  we  find  an  extraordinary  differ- 
ence, or  rather  contrariety.  Homer,  Sophocles, 
and  Demosthenes,  are  not  only  the  most  origi- 
nal, but  the  most  animated  and  glowing,  of  all 
writers.  Every  sentence  is  energetic;  all  the 
parts  are  in  motion ; the  passions  are  described 


7 PnuBanias  Attic.  8 Idem,  ibid, 

9 Plutarch,  in  Pericl.  et  Thucydid.  1.  ii. 


180 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


in  their  utmost  fury,  and  expressed  by  the 
boldest  words  and  gestures.  To  keep  to  the 
tragic  poet,  whose  art  approaches  the  nearest 
to  painting  and  sculpture,  the  heroes,  and  even 
the  gods  of  Sophocles,  frequently  display  the 
impetuosity  of  the  most  ungoverned  natures ; 
and,  what  is  still  more  extraordinary,  sometimes 
betray  a momentary  weakness,  extremely  in- 
consistent with  their  general  character.  The 
rocks  of  Lemnos  resound  with  the  cries  of  Phi- 
loctetes ; CEdipus,  yielding  to  despair,  plucks  out 
his  eyes  ; even  Hercules,  the  model  of  fortitude, 
sinks  under  the  impressions  of  pain  or  sorrow. 

Nothing  can  be  more  opposite  to  the  conduct 
of  Grecian  artists.  They  likewise  have  repre- 
sented Philoctetes ; but,  instead  of  effeminate 
tears  and  lamentations,  have  given  him  the  pa- 
tient concentrated  wo  of  a suffering  hero.  The 
furious  Ajax  of  Timomachus  was  painted,  not 
in  the  moment  when  he  destroyed  the  harmless 
sheep  instead  of  the  hostile  Greeks,  but  after 
he  had  committed  this  mad  deed,  and  when  his 
rage  having  subsided,  he  remained,  like  the  sea 
after  a storm,  surrounded  with  the  scattered 
fragments  of  mangled  carcases,  and  reflecting 
with  the  silent  anguish  of  despair  on  his  useless 
and  frantic  brutality.  The  revenge  of  Medea 
against  her  husband  was  not  represented,  as  in 
Euripides,  butchering  her  innocent  children, 
but  while  she  was  still  wavering  and  irreso- 
lute, agitated  between  resentment  and  pity. 
Even  Clytemnestra,  whose  unnatural,  intrepid 
cruelty,  poets  and  historians  had  so  indignantly 
described  and  arraigned,  was  not  deemed  a 
proper  subject  for  the  pencil,  when  imbruing 
her  hands  in  the  blood  of  Agamemnon.  And 
although  this  may  be  referred  to  a rule  of  Aris- 
totle, “that  the  characters  of  women  should  not 
be  represented  as  too  daring  or  decisive yet 
we  shall  find  on  examination  that  it  results 
from  principles  of  nature,  whose  authority  is 
still  more  universal  and  indispensable.  The 
consideration  of  the  Apollo,  Niobe,  and  Lao- 
coon,  whose  copies  have  been  infinitely  multi- 
plied, and  are  familiarly  known,  will  set  this 
matter  in  the  clearest  point  of  view. 

The  Apollo  Belvidere  is  universally  felt  and 
acknowledged  to  be  the  sublimest  figure  that 
either  skill  can  execute,  or  imagination  con- 
ceive. That  favourite  divinity,  whom  ancient 
poets  seem  peculiarly  fond  of  describing  in  the 
warmest  colours,1  is  represented  in  the  attitude 
of  darting  the  fatal  arrow  against  the  serpent 
Pytho,  or  the  giant  Tityus.  Animated  by  the 
noblest  conception  of  heavenly  powers,  the 
artist  has  far  outstepped  the  perfections  of  hu- 
manity, and  (if  we  may  speak  without  irre- 
verence) made  the  corrupt  put  on  incorrup- 
tion, and  the  mortal  immortality.  His  stature 
is  above  the  human,  his  attitude  majestic;  the 
Elysian  spring  of  youth  softens  the  manly 
graces  of  his  person,  and  the  bold  structure  of 
his  limbs.  Disdain  sits  on  his  lips,  and  indig- 
nation swells  his  nostrils;  but  an  unalterable 
serenity  invests  his  front,  and  the  sublime  ele- 
vation of  his  aspect  aspires  at  deeds  of  renown 
still  surpassing  the  present  object  of  his  victory. 

The  irascible  passions  are  not  represented 


with  more  dignity  in  the  Apollo,  than  are 
those  of  fear,  terror,  and  consternation,  in  the 
Niobe.  This  group  contained  Niobe  and  her 
husband  Amphion,  with  seven  sons,  and  as 
many  daughters.  Their  melancholy  story, 
which  is  too  well  known2  to  be  related  here, 
required  the  deepest  expression ; and  the  genius 
of  the  artist  has  chosen  the  only  moment  when 
this  expression  could  be  rendered  consistent 
with  the  highest  beauty ; a beauty  not  flatter- 
ing the  senses  by  images  of  pleasure,  but  trans- 
porting the  fancy  into  regions  of  purity  and 
virtue.  The  excess  and  suddenness  of  their 
disaster,  occasioned  a degree  of  amazement  and 
horror,  which,  suspending  the  faculties,  involv- 
ed them  in  that  silence  and  insensibility,  which 
neither  breaks  out  in  lamentable  shrieks,  nor 
distorts  the  countenance,  but  which  leaves  full 
play  to  the  artist’s  skill  to  represent  motion 
without  disorder,  or,  in  other  words,  to  render 
expression  graceful. 

The  Laocoon  may  be  regarded  as  the  tri- 
umph of  Grecian  sculpture;  since  bodily  pain, 
the  grossest  and  most  ungovernable  of  all  our 
passions,  and  that  pain  united  with  anguish 
and  torture  of  mind,  are  yet  expressed  with 
such  propriety  and  dignity,  as  afford  lessons 
of  fortitude  superior  to  any  taught  in  schools 
of  philosophy.  The  horrible  shriek  which  Vir- 
gil’s Laocoon3  emits,  is  a proper  circumstance 
for  poetry,  which  speaks  to  the  fancy  by  images 
and  ideas  borrowed  from  all  the  senses,  and 
has  a thousand  ways  of  ennobling  its  object; 
but  the  expression  of  this  shriek  would  have 
totally  degraded  the  statue.  It  is  softened, 
therefore,  into  a patient  sigh,  with  eyes  turned 
to  heaven  in  search  of  relief.  The  intolerable 
agony  of  suffering  nature  is  represented  in  the 
lower  part,  and  particularly  in  the  extremities, 
of  the  body;  but  the  manly  breast  struggles 
against  calamity.  The  contention  is  still  more 
plainly  perceived  in  his  furrowed  forehead ; and 
his  languishing  paternal  eye  demands  assist- 
ance, less  for  himself,  than  for  his  miserable 
children,  who  look  up  to  him  for  help. 

If  subjects  of  this  nature  are  expressed  with- 
out appearing  hideous,  shocking,  or  disgust- 
ful, we  may  well  suppose  that  more  temperate 
passions  are  represented  with  the  greatest  mo- 
deration and  dignity.  The  remark  is  justified 
by  examining  the  remains  or  imitations  of 
Grecian  art;  and  were  we  to  deduce  from 
these  alone  the  character  of  the  nation,  it 
would  seem  at  first  sight,  that  the  contempo- 
raries of  Pericles  must  have  been  a very  supe 
rior  people  in  point  of  fortitude,  self-command, 
and  every  branch  of  practical  philosophy,  to 
the  Athenians  who  are  described  by  poets  and 
historians. 

But  when  we  consider  the  matter  more 
deeply,  we  shall  find  that  it  is  the  business  of 
history  to  describe  men  as  they  are ; of  poetry 
and  painting,  to  represent  them  as  may  afford 
most  pleasure  and  instruction  to  the  reader  or 
spectator.  The  aim  of  these  imitative  arts  is 
the  same,  but  they  differ  widely  in  the  mode, 
the  object,  and  extent  of  their  imitation.  The 


1 Horace,  b.  iii.  ode  4.  ver.  60. 


2 Ovid  Metamorph.  1.  vi.  ver.  14G,  ct  seq. 

3 yEnoid,  1.  ii.  ver.  222. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


181 


XV.] 

poet  who  describes  actions  in  time,  may  carry 
the  reader  through  all  the  gradations  of  pas- 
sion, and  display  his  genius  most  powerfully 
in  its  most  furious  excess.  But  the  painter  or 
statuary,  who  represents  bodies  in  space,  is 
confined  to  one  moment,  and  must  choose  that 
#which  leaves  the  freest  play  to  the  imagination. 
This  can  seldom  be  the  highest  pitch  of  pas- 


sion, which  leaves  nothing  beyond  it ; and  in 
contemplating  which,  the  sympathy  of  the 
spectator,  after  his  first  surprise  subsides,  can 
only  descend  into  indifference.  Every  violent 
situation,  moreover,  is  felt  not  to  be  lasting; 
and  all  extreme  perturbation  is  inconsistent 
with  beauty,  without  which  no  visible  object 
can  long  attract  or  please.4 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Causes  of  the  Peloponnesian  War — Rupture  between  Corinth  and  its  Colony  Corcyra — Sea 
Fights — Insolence  and  Cruelty  of  the  Corcyreans — They  provoke  the  Resentment  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesians— Obtain  the  protection  of  Athens — Are  defeated  by  the  Corinthians — Who  dread 
the  Resentment  of  Athens — Their  Scheme  for  rendering  it  impotent — Description  of  the  Ma- 
cedonian Coast — It  revolts  from  Athens — Siege  of  Potidcea — General  Confederacy  against 
Athens — Peloponnesian  Embassy — Its  demands  firmly  answered  by  Pericles — His  speech  to 
the  Athenians — The  Thebans  surprise  Platcea — Preparations  for  War  on  both  Sides — Invasion 
of  Attica — Operations  of  the  Athenian  Fleet — Plague  in  Athens — Calamitous  Situation  of 
that  Republic — Magnanimity  of  Pericles — Firmness  of  his  last  advice — His  Death  and 
Character. 


T>  Y the  lustre  of  the  elegant  arts,  the  mag- 
nificence  of  Pericles  had  displayed  and 
ennobled  the  military  glory  of  his  country ; 
and  the  pre-eminence  of  Athens  seemed  im- 
moveably  established  on  the  solid  foundation 
of  internal  strength,  adorned  by  external  splen- 
dour. But  this  abundant  measure  of  prospe- 
rity satisfied  neither  the  active  ambition  of  the 
republic,  nor  the  enterprising  genius  of  its 
minister.  The  Greeks  beheld  and  admired, 
but  had  not  yet  formally  acknowledged,  the 
full  extent  of  Athenian  greatness.  In  order 
to  extort  this  reluctant  confession,  than  which 
nothing  could  more  firmly  secure  to  him  the 
affectionate  gratitude  of  his  fellow-citizens, 
Pericles  despatched  ambassadors  to  the  repub- 
lics and  colonies  in  Europe  and  in  Asia,  re- 
quiring the  presence  of  their  deputies  in  Athens, 
to  concert  measures  for  rebuilding  their  ruined 
temples,  and  for  performing  the  solemn  vows 
and  sacrifices  promised,  with  devout  thankful- 
ness, to  the  immortal  gods,  who  had  wonder- 
fully protected  the  Grecian  arms,  during  their 
long  and  dangerous  conflict  with  the  Persian 
empire.  This  proposal,  which  tended  to  ren- 
der Athens  the  common  centre  of  deliberation 
and  of  union,  was  readily  accepted  in  such 
foreign  parts  as  had  already  submitted  to  the 
authority  of  that  republic.  But  in  neighbour- 
ing states,  the  ambassadors  of  Pericles  were 
received  coldly,  and  treated  disrespectfully  ; in 
most  assemblies  of  the  Peloponnesus  they  were 
heard  with  secret  disgust,  and  the  pride  of  the 
Spartan  senate  openly  derided  the  insolence  of 
their  demands.  When  at  their  return  home, 
they  explained  the  behaviour  of  the  Spartans, 
Pericles  exclaimed,  in  his  bold  style  of  elo- 


4 This  subject  is  admirably  treated  in  Lessing’s  Laocoon, 
in  which  he  traces  the  bounds  of  painting  and  poetry : a 

work  which,  it  is  much  to  be  regretted,  that  great  genius 
did  not  finish. 


quence,  that  he  “ beheld  war  advancing  with 
wide  and  rapid  steps  from  the  Peloponnesus.”5 
Such  was  the  preparation  of  materials  which 
the  smallest  spark  might  throw  into  combus- 
tion. But  before  we  relate  the  events  which 
immediately  occasioned  the  memorable  war  of 
twenty-seven  years,  it  is  impossible  (if  the 
calamities  of  our  own  times  have  taught  us  to 
compassionate  the  miserable)  not  to  drop  a tear 
over  the  continual  disasters  which  so  long  and 
so  cruelly  afflicted  the  most  valuable  and  en- 
lightened portion  of  mankind,  and  whose  im- 
mortal genius  was  destined  to  enlighten  the 
remotest  ages  of  the  world.  When  rude,  illi- 
terate peasants  are  summoned  to  mutual  hos- 
tility, and,  unaffected  by  personal  motives  of 
interest  or  honour,  expend  their  strength  and 
blood  to  gratify  the  sordid  ambition  of  their 
respective  tyrants,  we  may  lament  the  general 
stupidity  and  wretchedness  of  human  nature ; 
but  we  cannot  heartily  sympathize  with  men 
who  have  so  little  sensibility,  nor  very  deeply 
and  feelingly  regret,  that  those  should  suffer 
pain,  who  seem  both  unwilling  and  incapable 
to  relish  pleasure.  Their  heavy  unmeaning 
aspect,  their  barbarous  language,  and  more 
barbarous  manners,  together  with  their  total 
indifference  to  the  objects  and  pursuits-  which 
form  the  dignity  and  glory  of  man ; these  cir- 
cumstances, interrupting  the  ordinary  course 
of  our  sentiments,  divert  or  repel  the  natural 
current  of  sympathy.  Their  victories  or  de- 
feats are  contemplated  without  emotion,  coldly 
related,  and  read  without  interest  or  concern. 
But  the  war  of  Peloponnesus  presents  a differ- 
ent spectacle.  The  adverse  parties  took  arms, 
not  to  support  the  unjust  pretensions  of  a ty 
rant,  whom  they  had  reason  to  hate  or  to  de 
spise,  but  to  vindicate  their  civil  rights,  and  to 
maintain  their  political  independence.  The 


5 Plut.  in  Periclo. 


182 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


meanest  Grecian  soldier  knew  the  duties  of  the 
citizen,  the  magistrate,  and  the  general.1  His 
life  had  been  equally  divided  between  the  most 
agreeable  amusements  of  leisure,  and  the  most 
honourable  employments  of  activity.  Trained 
to  those  exercises  and  accomplishments  which 
give  strength  and  agility  to  the  limbs,  beauty  to 
the  shape,  and  grace  to  the  motions,  the  dignity 
of  his  external  appearance  announced  the  libe- 
ral greatness  of  his  mind : and  his  language, 
the  most  harmonious  and  expressive  ever 
spoken  by  man,  comprehended  all  that  variety 
of  conception,  and  all  those  shades  of  senti- 
ment, that  characterize  the  most  exalted  per- 
fection of  human  manners. 

Ennobled  by  such  actors,  the  scene  itself  was 
highly  important,  involving  not  only  the  states 
of  Greece,  but  the  greatest  of  the  neighbouring 
kingdoms ; and,  together  with  the  extent  of  a 
foreign  war,  exhibiting  the  intenseness  of  do- 
mestic sedition.  As  it  exceeded  the  ordinary 
duration  of  human  power  or  resentment,  it 
was  accompanied  with  unusual  circumstances 
of  terror,  which,  to  the  pious  credulity  of  an 
unfortunate  age,  naturally  announced  the 
wrath  of  heaven,  justly  provoked-  by  human 
cruelty.  Whilst  pestilence  and  famine  multi- 
plied the  actual  sufferings,  eclipses  and  earth- 
quakes increased  the  consternation  and  horror 
of  that  lamentable  period.2  Several  warlike 
communities  were  expelled  from  their  here- 
ditary possessions  ; others  were  not  only  driven 
from  Greece,  but  utterly  extirpated  from  the 
earth  ; some  fell  a prey  to  party-rage,  others  to 
the  vengeance  of  foreign  enemies  ; some  were 
slowly  exhausted  by  the  contagion  of  a malig- 
nant atmosphere,  others  overwhelmed  at  once 
by  sudden  violence ; while  the  combined 
weight  of  calamity  assailed  the  power  of 
Athens,  and  precipitated  the  downfal  of  that 
republic  from  the  pride  of  prosperous  dominion 
to  the  dejection  of  dependence  and  misery.3 
n1  The  general,  but  latent  hostility 

1 ' ^'^2  t*ie  Greeks,  which  we  have 

A_X .oq  already  explained  the  cause,  was 
A.  . 4 y.  £rgt  ca]je(j  jnto  action  by  a rup- 
ture between  the  ancient  republic  of  Co- 
rinth, and  its  flourishing  colony  Corcyra. 
The  haughty  disdain  of  Corcyra,  elated  with 
the  pride  of  wealth  and  naval  greatness,  had 
long  denied  and  scorned  those  marks  of  de- 


1 Such  is  the  testimony  uniformly  given  of  them  in  the 
panegyric  of  Athens  by  Isocrates,  and  confirmed  by  the 
more  impartial  authority  of  Xenophon,  in  the  expedition 
of  Cyrus.  Their  exploits  in  that  wonderful  enterprise 
justify  the  highest  praise ; and  yet  the  national  character 
had  rather  degenerated  than  improved,  in  the  long  interval 
between  the  periods  alluded  to. 

2 Thucydid.  1.  i.  p.  16.  et  seq. 

3 For  the  Peloponnesian  war  we  have  not,  indeed,  a full 
stream  of  history,  but  a regular  series  of  annals  in  Thucy- 
dides and  Xenophon ; authors  of  whom  each  might  say, 

Q,uaeque  inse  miserrima  vidi, 

Et  quorum  pars  magna  fui : 

Many  material  circumstances  may  likewise  be  learned  from 
the  Greek  orators,  the  writings  of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  the 
comedies  of  Aristophanes,  the  twelfth  and  two  following 
books  of  Diodorus  Siculus,  and  Plutarch’s  Lives  of  Peri- 
cles, Nicias,  Alcibiades,  Lysander,  and  Agesilaus.  It  is 
Temarkable,  that  the  heavy  compiler,  as  well  as  the  lively 
biographer,  have  both  followed  the  long  lost  works  of 
Ephorus  and  Theopompus,  in  preference  to  those  of  Thu- 
cydides and  Xenophon ; a circumstance  which  strongly 
marks  their  want  of  judgment,  but  which  renders  their  in- 
formation more  interesting  to  posterity. 


[Chap. 

ference  and  respect  which  the  uniform  practice 
of  Greece  exacted  from  colonies  towards  their 
mother  country.  At  the  Olympic  and  other 
solemn  festivals,  they  yielded  not  the  place  of 
honour  to  the* Corinthians;  they  appointed  not 
a Corinthian  high-priest  to  preside  over  their 
religion ; and  when  they  established  new  set- 
tlements on  distant  coasts,  they  requested  not,* 
as  usual  with  the  Greeks,  the  auspicious  guid- 
ance of  a Corinthian  conductor.4 

While  the  ancient  metropolis,  incensed  by 
those  instances  of  contempt,  longed  for  an  op- 
portunity to  punish  them,  the  citizens  of  Epi- 
damnus,  the  most  considerable  sea-port  on  the 
coast  of  the  Hadriatic,  craved  assistance  at 
Corinth  against  the  barbarous  incursions  of  the 
Taulantii,  an  Illyrian  tribe,  who,  having  united 
with  a powerful  band  of  Epidamnian  exiles, 
greatly  infested  that  territory,  and  threatened 
to  storm  the  city.  As  Epidamnus  was  a colony 
of  Corcyra,  its  distressed  inhabitants  had  first 
sought  protection  there ; but  although  their 
petition  was  preferred  with  respectful  deference, 
and  urged  with  the  most  affecting  demonstra- 
tion of  abasement  and  calamity,  by  ambassa- 
dors who  long  remained  under  the  melan- 
choly garb  of  supplicants  in  the  temple  of 
Corcyrean  Juno,  the  proud  insensibility  of 
these  intractable  islanders  showed  not  the 
smallest  inclination  to  relieve  them ; partly 
restrained,  it  is  probable,  by  the  secret  prac- 
tices of  the  Epidamnian  exiles,  consisting  of 
some  of  the  principal  ahd  richest  families  of 
that  maritime  republic.  The  Corinthians 
readily  embraced  the  cause  of  a people  aban- 
doned by  their  natural  protectors,  and  their 
own  inveterate  enemies;  and  immediately  sup- 
plied Epidamnus  with  a considerable  body  of 
troops,  less  with  a view  to  defend  its  walls 
against  the  assaults  of  the  Taulantii,  than  in 
order  irrecoverably  to  detach  and  alienate  its 
inhabitants  from  the  interest  of  Corcyra. 

^ The  indignation  of  the  Corcy- 

lxxxvi  2 reans  was  inflamed  into  fury,  when 
A C *485  ^ey  understood  that  those  whom 
they  had  long  affected  to  consider 
as  aliens  and  as  rivals,  had  interfered  in  the 
affairs  of  their  colony.  They  instantly  launch- 
ed a fleet  of  forty  sail,  proceeded  in  hostile  array 
to  the  harbour  of  Epidamnus,  summoned  the 
inhabitants  to  re-admit  their  exiles,  and  to  expel 
the  foreign  troops.  With  such  unconditional 
and  arbitrary  demands,  the  weakest  and  most 
pusillanimous  garrison  could  scarcely  be  sup- 
posed to  comply.  The  Epidamnians  rejected 
them  with  scorn ; in  consequence  of  which  their 
city  was  invested  and  attacked  with  vigour, 
by  land  and  sea.  The  Corinthians  were  now 
doubly  solicitous,  both  to  defend  the  place,  and 
to  protect  the  troops  already  thrown  into  it, 
consisting  partly  of  their  Leucadian  and  Am- 
bracian  allies,  but  chiefly  of  Corinthian  citi- 
zens. A proclamation,  first  published  at  Co- 
rinth, was  industriously  disseminated  through 
Greece,  inviting  all  who  were  unhappy  at 
home,  or  who  courted  glory  abroad,  to  under- 
take an  expedition  to  Epidamnus,  with  assu- 

4  Schol.  in  Thucydid.  ad  locum.  He  mentions  the  other  cir- 
cumstances which  I have  introduced  into  the  text,  nn.l  which 
will  afterwards  be  confirmed  by  more  classic  authority. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


183 


XV.] 

"ance  of  enjoying  the  immunities  'and  honours 
of  a republic  whose  safety  they  had  ventured 
to  defend.  Many  exiles  and  military  adven- 
turers, at  all  times  profusely  scattered  over 
Greece,  obeyed  the  welcome  summons.  Pub- 
lic assistance,  likewise,  was  obtained,  not  only 
from  Thebes  and  Megara,  but  from  several 
states  of  the  Peloponnesus.  In  this  manner  the 
Corinthians  were  speedily  enabled  to  fit  out  an 
armament  of  seventy-five  sail;  which,  directing 
its  course  toward  Epidamnus,  anchored  in  the 
Ambracian  gulf,  near  the  friendly  harbour  of 
Actium,  where,  in  a future  age,  Augustus  and 
Antony  decided  the  empire  of  the  Roman  world. 
Near  this  celebrated  scene  of  action,  the  im- 
petuous Corcyreans  hastened  to  meet  the  enemy. 
Forty  ships  were  employed  in  the  siege  of  Epi- 
damnus. Twice  that  number  sailed  towards 
the  Ambracian  gulf.  The  hostile  armaments 
fought  with  equal  animosity;  but  the  Corcy- 
reans far  surpassed  in  bravery  and  skill.  Fif- 
teen Corinthian  vessels  were  destroyed ; the  rest 
escaped  in  disorder,  and  the  decisive  battle  was 
soon  followed  by  the  surrender  of  Epidamnus. 
By  a clemency  little  expected  from  the  victors, 
the  ancient  inhabitants  of  the  place  were  allow- 
ed their  lives  and  liberties;  but  the  Corinthians 
were  made  prisoners  of  war,  and  their  allies 
condemned  to  death. 

The  Corcyreans  thanked  their  gods,  and 
erected  a conspicuous  trophy  of  victory  on  the 
promontory  of  Leucimne,  whose  lofty  ridges 
^ £ overlooked  the  distant  scene  of  the 

131  *133  enga&emen*:*  Daring  the  two  fol- 
lowing years  they  reigned  undis- 
turbed masters  of  the  neighbouring  seas ; and 
though  a principle  of  fear,  or  perhaps  a faint 
remnant  of  respect  towards  their  ancient  metro- 
polis, prevented  them  from  invading  the  terri- 
tory of  Corinth,  they  determined  to  make  the 
confederates  of  that  republic  feel  the  full  weight 
of  their  vengeance.  For  this  purpose  they  ra- 
vaged the  coast  of  Appollonia ; plundered  the 
city  Ambracia;  almost  desolated  the  peninsula, 
now  the  island  of  Leucas;  and,  emboldened  by 
success,  ventured  to  land  in  the  Peloponnesus, 
and  set  fire  to  the  harbour  of  Cyllene,  because 
in  the  late  sea-fight  the  Elians,  to  whom  that 
place  belonged,  had  supplied  Corinth  with  a 
few  galleys.5 

The  southern  states  of  Greece,  highly  pro- 
voked by  this  outrage  to  the  peaceable  Elians, 
whose  religious  character  had  long  commanded 
general  respect,  were  still  farther  incensed  by 
the  active  resentment  of  the  Corinthians,  who, 
exasperated  at  the  disgrace  of  being  vanquished 
by  one  of  their  own  colonies,  had,  ever  since 
their  defeat,  bent  their  whole  attention,  and 
employed  the  greatest  part  even  of  their  pri- 
vate fortunes,  to  hire  mercenaries,  to  gain  al- 
lies, and  especially  to  equip  a new  fleet,  that 
they  might  be  enabled  to  chastise  the  impious 
audacity  (as  they  called  it)  of  their  rebellious 
children.6 

The  magistrates  of  Corcyra  saw  and  dreaded 
the  tempest  that  threatened  to  burst  on  them, 
and  which  the  unassisted  strength  of  their  island 
was  totally  unable  to  resist.  They  had  not 


taken  part  in  the  late  wars ; they  had  not  ac- 
ceded to  the  last  treaty  of  peace;  they  could  not 
summon  the  aid  of  a single  confederate.  In  this 
difficulty  they  sent  ambassadors  to  Athens,  well 
khowing  the  secret  animosity  between  that  re- 
public and  the  enemies  by  whom  their  own 
safety  was  endangered.  The  Corinthians  like- 
wise sent  ambassadors  to  defeat  their  purpose. 
Both  were  allowed  a hearing  in  the  Athenian 
assembly ; but  first  the  Corcyreans,  who  in  a 
studied  oration,  acknowledged,  “ that  having 
no  previous  claim  of  merit  to  urge,  they  expect- 
ed not  success  in  their  negotiation,  unless  an  al- 
liance between  Athens  and  Corcyra  should  ap- 
pear alike  advantageous  to  those  who  proposed, 
and  to  those  who  accepted  it.  Of  this  the  Athe- 
nians would  immediately  become  sensible,  if 
they  reflected  that  the  people  of  Peloponnesus 
being  equally  hostile  to  both  (the  open  enemies 
of  Corcyra,  the  secret  and  more  dangerous  ene- 
mies of  Athens,)  their  country  must  derive  a 
vast  accession  of  strength  by  receiving,  without 
trouble  or  expense,  a rich  and  warlike  island, 
which,  unassisted  and  alone,  had  defeated  a nu- 
merous confederacy ; and  whose  naval  force, 
augmenting  the  fleet  of  Athens,  would  for  ever 
render  that  republic  sovereign  of  the  seas.  If  the 
Corinthians  complained  of  the  injustice  of  re- 
ceiving their  colony,  let  them  remember,  that 
colonies  are  preserved  by  moderation,  and  alien- 
ated by  oppression;  that  men  settle  in  foreign 
parts  to  better  their  situation,  not  to  submit 
their  liberties ; to  continue  the  equals,  not  to 
become  the  slaves  of  their  less  adventurous  fel- 
low-citizens. If  they  pretended,  that  the  de- 
mand of  Corcyra  was  inconsistent  with  the  last 
general  treaty  of  peace,  let  the  words  of  that 
treaty  confound  them,  which  expressly  declare 
every  Grecian  city,  not  previously  bound  lo 
follow  the  standard  of  Athens  or  of  Sparta,  at 
full  liberty  to  accede  to  the  alliance  of  either 
of  those  powers.7  But  it  became  the  dignity  of 
Athens  to  expect  honour  and  safety,  not  from 
the  punctilious  observance  of  a slippery  con- 
vention, but  from  the  manly  and  prompt  vi- 
gour of  her  councils.  It  suited  the  renowned 
wisdom  of  a republic,  which  had  ever  antici- 
pated her  enemies,  to  prevent  the  fleet  of  Cor- 
cyra from  falling  a prey  to  that  confederacy, 
with  whose  inveterate  envy  she  herself  must  be 
soon  called  to  contend ; and  to  merit  the  use- 
ful gratitude  of  an  island  possessing  other  va- 
luable advantages,  and  most  conveniently  situ- 
ate for  intercepting  the  Sicilian  and  Italian 
supplies,  which,  in  the  approaching  and  inevita- 
ble war,  would  otherwise  so  powerfully  assist 
their  Doric  ancestors  of  Peloponnesus.” 

The  Corinthians  indirectly  answered  this  dis- 
course by  inveighing,  with  great  bitterness, 
against  the  unexampled  insolence  and  unnatur- 
al cruelty  of  Corcyra:  “That  infamous  island 
had  hitherto  declined  connection  with  every 
Grecian  state,  that  she  might  carry  on  her  pi- 
ratical depredations  unobserved,  and  alone  en- 
joy the  spoil  of  the  unwary  mariners  who  ap- 
proached her  inhospitable  shores.  Rendered  at 
once  wealthy  and  wicked  by  this  inhuman 


7 Eigyrxi  yxg  sv  tiuv  EKXqviS'jiv  7roXiu>v  t)Ti$ 

HilSx/XOU  J,  1%‘lVXl  7TXg'  OTTOTSpOlg  XV  XpiTXII rxt 

The  orroTjgot;  justifies  the  paraphraso  in  the  text 


5 Thucydid.  1.  i.  j».  22.  et  scq. 

6 Idem,  ibid. 


184 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


practice,  the  Corcyreans  had  divested  them- 
selves of  all  piety  and  gratitude  towards  their 
mother  country,  and  imbrued  their  parricidal 
hands  in  their  parent's  blood.  Their  auda- 
city having  provoked  a late  vengeance,  which 
they  were  unable  to  repel,  they  unseason- 
ably sought  protection  from  Athens,  desiring 
those  who  were  not  accomplices  of  their  in- 
justice to  participate  their  danger,  and  deluding 
them  through  the  vain  terror  of  contingent  evil, 
into  certain  and  immediate  calamity  ; for  such 
must  every  war  be  regarded,  its  event  being 
always  destructive,  often  fatal.  The  Corcy- 
reans vainly  chicaned  as  to  words;  Athens,  it 
was  clear,  must  violate  the  sense  and  spirit  of 
the  last  treaty  of  peace,  if  she  assisted  the  ene- 
mies of  any  contracting  power.  These  fierce 
islanders  acknowledged  themselves  a colony  of 
Corinth,  but  pretended  that  settlements  abroad 
owe  nothing  to  those  who  established  them,  to 
those  whose  fostering  care  reared  their  infancy, 
from  whose  blood  they  sprung,  by  whose  arms 
they  have  been  defended.  We  affirm,  on  the 
contrary,  (and  appeal  to  you,  Athenians ! who 
have  planted  so  many  colonies,)  that  the  mo- 
ther country  is  entitled  to  that  authority  which 
the  Corcyreans  have  long  spurned,  to  that  re- 
spect which  their  insolence  now  refuses  and 
disdains : that  it  belongs  to  us,  their  metropolis, 
to  be  their  leaders  in  war,  their  magistrates  in 
peace ; nor  can  you,  Athenians  ! oppose  our 
just  pretensions,  and  protect  our  rebellious  co- 
lony, without  setting  an  example  most  danger- 
ous to  yourselves.” 

These  sensible  observations  made  a deep  im- 
pression on  the  moderate  portion  of  the  assem- 
bly ; but  the  speech  of  the  Corcyreans  was 
more  congenial  to  the  ambitious  views  of  the 
republic,  and  the  daring  spirit  of  Pericles.  He 
wished,  however,  to  avoid  the  dishonour  of 
manifestly  violating  the  peace,  and  therefore 
advised  his  countrymen  to  conclude  with  Cor- 
cyra,  not  a general  or  complete  alliance,  but 
only  a treaty  of  defence,  which,  in  case  of  in- 
vasion, obliged  the  two  states  reciprocally  to 
assist  each  other. 

p..  This  agreement  was  no  sooner 

, y 1 ratified  than  ten  Athenian  ships  re- 
AX^7n^32  inforced  the  fleets  of  Corcyra,  sta- 
tioned on  the  eastern  coast  of  the 
island;  because  the  Corinthians,  with  their 
numerous  allies,  already  rendezvoused  on  the 
opposite  shore  of  Epirus.  The  hostile  arma- 
ments met  in  line  of  battle,  near  the  small  isl- 
ands Sibota,  which  seem  anciently  to  have  been 
separated  from  the  continent  by  the  impetuosity 
of  the  deep  and  narrow  sea  between  Epirus  and 
Corcyra.  The  bold  islanders,  with  a hundred 
and  ten  sail,  furiously  attacked  the  superior 
fleet  of  the  Corinthians,  which  was  divided 
into  three  squadrons  ; the  Megareans  and  Am- 
bracians  on  the  right,  the  Elians  and  other  allies 
in  the  centre,  their  own  ships  on  the  left,  which 
composed  the  principal  strength  of  their  line. 
The  narrowness  of  the  strait,  and  the  immense 
number  of  ships  (far  greater  than  had  ever  as- 
sembled in  former  battles  between  the  Greeks,) 
soon  rendered  it  impossible,  on  either  side,  to 
display  any  superiority  in  sailing,  or  any  ad- 
dress in  manoeuvre.  The  action  was  irregular 


[Chap. 

[ and  tumultuous,  and  maintained  with  more 
' firmness  and  vigour  than  naval  skill.  The  nu- 
! merous  troops,  both  heavy  and  fight-armed,  who 
were  placed  on  the  decks,  advanced,  engaged, 
grappled,  and  fought  with  obstinate  valour  ; 
while  the  ships,  continuing  motionless  and  inac- 
tive, made  a sea-fight  resemble  a pitched  bat- 
tle. At  length,  twenty  Corcyrean  galleys,  hav- 
ing broken  the  left  wing  of  the  enemy,  and 
pursued  them  to  the  coast  of  Epirus,  injudi- 
ciously landed  there  to  burn  or  plunder  the 
Corinthian  camp. 

This  inessential  service  too  much  weakened 
the  smaller  fleet,  and  rendered  the  inequality 
decisive.  The  Corcyreans  were  defeated  with 
great  slaughter,  their  incensed  adversaries  dis- 
regarding plunder  and  prisoners,  and  only 
thirsting  for  blood  and  revenge.  In  the  blind- 
ness of  their  rage  they  destroyed  many  of  their 
fellow  citizens,  who  had  been  captured  by  the 
enemy  in  the  beginning  of  the  engagement. 
Xor  was  their  loss  of  ships  inconsiderable  ; thir- 
ty were  sunk,  and  the  rest  so  much  shattered; 
that  when  they  endeavoured  to  pursue  the  fee- 
ble remains  of  the  Corcyrean  fleet,  which  had 
lost  seventy  galleys,  they  were  effectually  pre- 
vented from  executing  this  design  by  the  small 
Athenian  squadron,  which,  according  to  its  in- 
structions from  the  republic,  had  taken  no 
share  in  the  battle,  but,  agreeably  to  the  re- 
cent treaty  between  Athens  and  Corcyra,  hin- 
dered the  total  destruction  of  their  allies,  first 
by  hostile  threats,  at  length  by  actual  resist- 
ance. 

The  Corinthians  having  dragged  up  their 
wreck,  and  recovered  the  bodies  of  their  slain, 
refitted  on  the  coast  of  Epirus,  and  hastened  to 
Corcyra;  considerably  off  which  they  beheld 
the  enemy  reinforced,  and  drawn  up  in  fine  of 
battle,  in  order  to  defend  their  coast.  They  ad- 
vanced, however,  with  intrepidity,  till,  to  their 
surprise  and  terror,  they  perceived  an  unknown 
fleet  pressing  towards  them.  This  new  appear 
ance  shook  their  resolution,  and  made  them 
change  their  course.  The  Corcyreans,  whose 
situation  at  first  prevented  them  from  seeing 
the  advancing  squadron,  were  astonished  at  the 
sudden  retreat  of  the  enemy ; but  when  they 
discovered  its  cause,  their  uncertainty  and 
fears,  increased  by  their  late  afflicting  calamity, 
made  them  prefer  the  safest  measure.  They 
also  turned  their  prows;  and,  while  the  Corin- 
thians retired  to  Epirus,  pressed  in  an  opposite 
direction  to  Corcyra.  There,  to  their  inexpres- 
sible joy,  not  unmixed  with  shame,  they  were 
joined  by  the  unknown  fleet,  consisting  of 
twenty  Athenian  galleys ; a reinforcement 
which  enabled  them,  next  morning,  to  brave 
the  late  victorious  armament  off-  the  coast  of 
Sibota,  a deserted  harbour  of  Epirus,  opposite 
to  the  small  islands  of  the  same  name. 

The  Corinthians,  unwilling  to  contend  with 
the  unbroken  vigour  of  their  new  opponents, 
despatched  a brigantine  with  the  following  re- 
monstrance: “You  act  most  unjustly,  men  of 
Athens ! in  breaking  the  peace,  and  commencing 
unprovoked  hostilities.  On  what  pretence  do 
you  hinder  the  Corinthians  from  taking  ven- 
geance on  an  insolent  foe  ? If  you  are  deter- 
mined to  persist  in  iniquity  and  cruelty,  seize 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


185 


XV.] 

us  who  address  you,  and  treat  us  as  enemies.” 
The  words  were  scarcely  ended  when  the  Cor- 
cyreans  exclaimed,  with  a loud  and  unanimous 
voice,  u Seize,  and  kill  them.”  But  the  Athe- 
nians answered  with  moderation  : “ Men  of 
Corinth,  we  neither  break  the  peace,  nor  act 
unjustly.  We  come  to  defend  our  allies  of 
Corcyra:  sail  unmolested  b.y  us  to  whatever 
friendly  port  you  deem  most  convenient ; but 
if  you  purpose  making  a descent  on  Corcyra, 
or  on  any  of  the  dependencies  of  that  island, 
we  will  exert  our  utmost  power  to  frustrate 
your  attempt.”1 

This  menace,  which  prevented  immediate 
hostility,  did  not  deter  the  Corinthians  from 
surprising,  as  they  sailed  homeward,  the  town 
of  Anactorium,  on  the  Ambracian  gulf,  which, 
in  the  time  of  harmony  between  the  colony  and 
parent  state,  had  been  built  at  the  joint  ex- 
pense of  Corinth  and  Corcyra.  From  this  sea- 
port they  carried  off  two  hundred  and  fifty 
Corcyrean  citizens,  and  eight  hundred  slaves. 
The  former,  added  to  the  captives  saved  dur- 
ing the  fury  of  the  sea-fight,  by  the  clemency 
or  the  avarice  of  a few  Corinthian  captains, 
made  the  whole  prisoners  of  war  amount  to 
twelve  hundred  and  fifty ; a capture  which,  as 
we  shall  have  occasion  to  relate,  produced  most 
important  and  lamentable  consequences  on  the 
future  fortune  of  Corcyra. 

The  Corinthians,  having  chastised  the  inso- 
lence of  their  revolted  colony,  had  reason  to 
dread  the  vengeance  of  its  powerful  ally.  Im- 
pressed with  this  terror,  they  laboured  with 
great  activity  and  with  Unusual  secrecy  and 
Q.  address,  to  find  for  the  Athenian 

Ixxxvn"  1 arms  an  employment  still  more  in- 
A r teresting  than  the  Corcyrean  war. 

The  domestic  strength  of  Athens 
defied  assault ; but  a people  who,  on  the  basis 
of  a diminutive  territory  and  scanty  population, 
had  reared  such  an  extensive  fabric  of  empire, 
might  easily  be  wounded  in  their  foreign  de- 
pendencies, which,  for  obvious  causes,  were 
ever  prone  to  novelty  and  rebellion.  The 
northern  shores  of  the  iEgean  sea,  afterwards 
comprehended  under  the  name  of  Macedon, 
and  forming  the  most  valuable  portion  of  that 
kingdom,  reluctantly  acknowledged  the  stern 
authority  of  a sovereign  whom  they  obeyed 
and  detested.  This  extensive  coast,  of  which 
the  subsequent  history  will  deserve  our  atten- 
tion, composed,  next  to  the  Aegean  islands  and 
colonies  of  Asia,  the  principal  foreign  domi- 
nions of  the  Athenian  republic.  The  whole 
country  (naturally  divided  by  the  Thermaic 
and  Strymonic  gulfs  into  the  provinces  of 
Pieria,  Chalcis,  and  Pangaeus)  stretched  in  a 
direct  line  only  a hundred  and  fifty  miles  ; but 
the  winding  intricacies  of  the  coast,  indented 
by  two  great,  and  by  two  smaller  bays,  extend- 
ed three  times  that  length  ; and  almost  every 
convenient  situation  was  occupied  by  a Gre- 
cian sea-port.  But  neither  the  extent  of  above 
four  hundred  miles,  nor  the  extreme  populous- 
ness of  the  maritime  parts,  formed  the  chief 
importance  of  this  valuable  possession.  The 
middle  division,  called  the  region  of  Chalcis, 


1 Thucydid.  p.  37. 

2 A 


because  originally  peopled  by  a city  of  that 
name  in  Eubcea,  was  equally  fertile  and  de- 
lightful'. The  inland  country,  continually 
diversified  by  lakes,  rivers,  and  arms  of  the  sea, 
afforded  an  extreme  facility  of  water  carriage  ; 
Amphipolis,  Acanthus,  Potidaea,  and  many 
other  towns,  furnished  considerable  marts  of 
commerce  for  the  republics  of  Greece,  as  well 
as  for  the  neighbouring  kingdoms  of  Thrace 
and  Macedon  ; and  the  constant  demands  of 
the  merchant  excited  the  patient  industry  of 
the  husbandman.  This  beautiful  district  had, 
on  one  side,  the  black  mountains  of  Pangasus, 
and  on  the  other,  the  green  vales  of  Pieria. 
The  former,  extending  ninety  miles  towards 
the  east  and  the  river  Nessus,  abounded  nei- 
ther in  corn  nor  pasture,  but  produced  variety 
of  timber  proper  for  building  ships ; and  the 
southern  branches  of  the  mountain  contained 
rich  veins  of  gold  and  silver,  which  were  suc- 
cessively wrought  by  the  Thracians  and  the 
Athenians,  but  of  which  the  full  value  was  first 
discovered  by  Philip  of  Macedon,  who  annually 
extracted  from  them  the  value  of  two  hundred 
thousand  pounds  sterling.2  The  last  and 
smallest  division,  Pieria,  extended  fifty  miles 
along  the  Thermaic  gulf  to  the  confines  of 
Thessaly  and  Mount  Pindus.  The  towns  of 
Pydna  and  Methone  enriched  the  shore  with 
the  benefits  of  arts  and  commerce.  Nature  had 
been  peculiarly  kind  to  the  inland  country, 
whose  shady  hills,  sequestered  walks  and  foun- 
tains, lovely  verdure,  and  tranquil  solitude, 
rendered  it,  in  the  fanciful  belief  of  antiquity, 
the  favourite  haunt  of  the  Muses  ; who  borrow- 
ed from  this  district  their  favourite  appellation 
of  Pierides.  According  to  the  same  poetical 
creed,  these  goddesses  might  well  envy  the 
mortal  inhabitants,  who  led  a pastoral  life,  en- 
joyed happiness,  and  are  scarcely  mentioned  in 
history. 

Such  was  the  nature  and  such  the  divisions 
of  a territory,  which  the  policy  and  resentment 
of  Corinth  encouraged  to  successful  rebellion 
against  the  sovereignty  of  Athens.  Several 
maritime  communities  of  the  Chalcidice3  took 
refuge  within  the  walls  of  Olynthus,  a town 
which  they  had  built  and  fortified,  at  the  dis- 
tance of  five  miles  from  the  sea,  in  a fertile  and 
secure  situation,  between  the  rivers  Olynthus 
and  Amnius,  which  flow  into  the  lake  Bolyce, 
the  inmost  recess  of  the  Toronaic  gulf.  The 
neighbouring  city  of  Potidaea,  a colony  of  Co- 
rinth, and  governed  by  annual  magistrates  sent 
from  the  mother  country,  yet  like  most  esta- 
blishments in  the  Chalcidice,  a tributary  con- 
federate1 of  Athens,  likewise  strengthened  its 
walls,  and  prepared  to  revolt.  But  the  Athe- 
nians anticipated  this  design,  by  sending  a fleet 
of  thirty  sail,  which  having  entered  the  har- 
bour of  Potidaea,  commanded  the  citizens  to 

2 Diodorus,  1.  xvi.  p.  514. 

3 In  using  the  nume  of  Chalcidic£  I have  followed  the 
analogy  of  the  Greek  language;  rather  than  complied  with 
custom ; yet  that  part  of  the  Macedonian  coast,  usually 
called  the  region  of  Chalcis,  gave  name  to  the  province  of 
Chalcidice  in  Syria,  as  Strabo  mentions  in  his  sixteenth 
book  ; wherein  ho  explains  how  the  principal  divisions  of 
Syria,  as  well  as  Mesopotamia,  came  to  he  distinguished, 
after  the  contests  of  Alexander,  by  Grecian  appellations, 
borrowed  from  the  geography  described  in  the  text. 

4 Thucydid. 


186 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


demolish  their  fortifications,  to  give  hostages 
as  security  for  their  good  behaviour,  and  to 
dismiss  the  Corinthian  magistrates.  The  Poti- 
daeons  artfully  requested  that  the  execution  of 
these  severe  commands  might  be  suspended 
until  they  had  time  to  send  ambassadors  to 
Athens,  and  to  remove  the  unjust  suspicions 
of  their  fidelity. 

The  weakness  or  avarice  of  Anchestratus, 
the  Athenian  admiral,  listened  to  this  deceitful 
request,  and,  leaving  the  coast  of 
, _ Potidiea,  directed  the  operations  of 

his  squadron  against  places  of  less 
‘ * ' importance,  not  sparing  the  depend- 

encies of  Macedon.  Meanwhile  the  Potidseans 
sent  a public  but  illusive  embassy  to  Athens, 
while  one  more  effectual  was  secretly  despatch- 
ed to  Corinth,  and  other  cities  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesus, from  which  they  were  supplied  with  two 
thousand  men,  commanded  by  the  Corinthian 
Aristeus,  a brave  and  enterprising  general. 
These  troops  were  thrown  into  the  place  dur- 
ing the  absence  of  the  Athenian  fleet ; and  the 
Potidseans,  thus  reinforced,  set  their  enemies  at 
defiance.  Alarmed  by  this  intelligence,  the 
Athenians  fitted  out  a new  fleet  of  forty  sail, 
with  a large  body  of  troops,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Callias ; who,  arriving  on  the  coast  of 
Macedon,  found  the  squadron  of  Anchestratus 
employed  in  the  siege  of  Pydna.  Callias  judi- 
ciously exhorted  him  to  desist  from  that  enter- 
prise, comparatively  of  little  importance,  that 
the  united  squadrons  might  attack  Potidsea  by 
^sea,  while  an  Athenian  army  of  three  thousand 
citizens,  with  a due  proportion  of  allies,  assault- 
ed it  by  land.  This  measure  was  adopted  ; but 
the  spirit  of  the  garrison  soon  offered  them  bat- 
tle, almost  on  equal  terms,  though  with  un- 
equal success.  Callias  however  was  slain,  and 
succeeded  by  Phormio  ; who  conducting  a fresh 
supply  of  troops,  desolated  the  hostile  territory 
of  Chalcis  and  Pieria ; took  several  towns  by 
storm  ; and,  having  ravaged  the  adjoining  dis- 
trict, besieged  the  city  of  Potidaea. 

While  those  transactions  were  carrying  on  in 
the  north,  the  centre  of  Greece  was  shaken  by 
the  murmurs  and  complaints  of  the  Corinthians 
and  their  Peloponnesian  confederates,  who  lost 
all  patience  when  their  citizens  were  blocked 
up  by  an  Athenian  army.  Accompanied  by 
the  deputies  of  several  republics  beyond  the 
isthmus,  who  had  recently  experienced  the  ar- 
rogance of  their  imperious  neighbour,  they  had 
recourse  to  Sparta,  whose  actual  power  and 
ancient  renown  justly  merited  the  first  rank  in 
the  confederacy,  but  whose  measures1  were 
rendered  slow  and  cautious  by  the  foresight 
and  peaceful  counsels  of  the  prudent  Archida- 
mus.  When  introduced  into  the  Spartan  as- 
sembly, the  representatives  of  all  the  states 
inveighed,  with  equal  bitterness,  against  the 
injustice  and  cruelty  of  Athens,  while  each  de- 
scribed and  exaggerated  the  weight  of  its  pecu- 


1  Plutarch  (in  Pericle)  ascribes  the  backwardness  of  the 
Spartans  to  ensage  in  war  to  the  advice  of  their  principal 
magistrates,  bribed  by  Pericles,  who  wished  to  gain  time 
for  his  military  preparations ; a report  as  improbable  as  an- 
other calumny,  that  they  were  bribed  by  their  allies  to  take 
arms  against  Athens  (Aristoph.  in  Pace.)  The  cause  of 
their  irresolution,  assigned  in  the  text,  is  confirmed  by  the 
subsequent  behaviour  of  Archidamus. 


liar  grievances.  The  Megareans  complained 
that,  by  a recent  decree  of  that  stern  unfeeling 
republic,  they  had  been  excluded  from  the  ports 
and  markets  of  Attica;2  an  exclusion  which, 
considering  the  narrowness  and  poverty  of 
their  own  rocky  district,  was  equivalent  to  de- 
priving them  of  the  first  necessaries  of  life. 
The  inhabitants  of  iEgina  explained  and  la- 
mented that,  in  defiance  of  recent  and  solemn 
treaties,  and  disregarding  the  liberal  spirit  of 
Grecian  policy,  the  Athenians  had  reduced 
their  unfortunate  island  into  the  most  deplora- 
ble condition  of  servitude. 

When  other  states  had  described  their  parti- 
cular sufferings,  the  Corinthians  last  arose,  and 
their  speaker  thus  addressed  the  Lacedaemo- 
nian assembly  : “ Had  we  come  hither,  men  of 
Lacedaemon  ! to  urge  our  private  wrongs,  it 
might  be  sufficient  barely  to  relate  the  transac- 
tions of  the  preceding  and  present  years.  The 
revolt  of  Corcyra,  the  siege  of  Potidaea,  are 
facts  which  speak  for  themselves;  but  the 
thoughts  of  this  assembly  should  be  directed  to 
objects  more  important  than  particular  injuries, 
however  flagrant  and  enormous.  The  general 
oppressive  system  of  Athenian  policy, — it  is 
this  which  demands  your  most  serious  concern; 
a system  aiming  at  nothing  less  than  the  de- 
struction of  Grecian  freedom,  which  is  ready 
to  perish  through  your  supine  neglect.  That 
moderation  and  probity,  men  of  Sparta!  for 
which  your  domestic  counsels  are  justly  famous, 
render  you  the  dupes  of  foreign  artifice,  and 
expose  you  to  become  the  victims  of  foreign 
ambition;  which,  instead  of  opposing  with 
prompt  alacrity,  you  have  nourished  by  unsea- 
sonable delay  ; and,  in  consequence  of  this  fa- 
tal error,  are  now  called  to  contend,  not  with 
the  infant  weakness,  but  with  the  matured  vi- 
gour of  your  enemies,  those  enemies,  who,  ever 
unsatisfied  with  their  present  measure  of  pros- 
perity, are  continually  intent  on  some  new 
project  of  aggrandizement.  How  different 
from  your  slow  procrastination  is  the  ardent 
character  of  the  Athenians!  Fond  of  novelty, 
and  fertile  in  resources,  alike  active  and  vi- 
gilant, the  accomplishment  of  one  design  leads 
them  to  another  more  daring.  Desire,  hope, 
enterprise,  success,  follow  in  rapid  succession. 
Already  have  they  subdued  half  of  Greece ; 
their  ambition  grasps  the  Whole.  Rouse,  then, 
from  your  lethargy,  defend  your  allies,  invade 
Attica,  maintain  the  glory  of  Peloponnesus, 
that  sacred  deposit,  with  which  being  entrusted 
by  your  ancestors,  you  are  bound  to  transmit 
unimpaired  to  posterity.” 


2 The  Megareans  were  accused  of  ploughing  some  con- 
secrated lands : they  were  accused  of  harbouring  the  Athe- 
nian slaves,  fugitives,  and  exiles ; other  causes  of  com- 
plaint might  easily  have  been  discovered  or  invented  by 
their  powerful  neighbours,  who  were  provoked  that  such  a 
small  community  on  their  frontier  should  uniformly  spurn 
their  authority.  But  the  malignity  of  the  comic  writers  of 
the  times  ascribed  the  severe  decree  against  Megara  to  an 
event  equally  disgraceful  to  the  morals  of  their  country,  and 
injurious  to  the  honour  of  Pericles.  The  following  verses 
are  translated  from  the  Acharnenses  of  Aristophanes : 
Juvenes  profecti  Megaram  ebrii  auferunt 
SimEctham  ex  scortatione  nobilem: 

Megarensis  hinc  populus  dolore  perictus 
Furatur  Aspasiae  duo  scorta  haud  impiger: 

Ilinc  initium  belli  prorupit 
Universis  Gracis  ob  tres  mcretriculas. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


187 


XV.] 

Several  Athenians,  then  residing  on  other  bu- 
siness at  Sparta,  desired  to  be  heard  in  defence 
of  their  country.  Equity  could  not  deny  the  re- 
quest of  these  voluntary  advocates,  who  spoke 
in  a style  well  becoming  the  loftiness  of  their 
republic.3  With  the  pride  of  superiority,  rather 
than  the  indignation  of  innocence,  they  affected 
to  despise  the  false  aspersions  of  their  adversa- 
ries ; and,  instead  of  answering  directly  the  nu- 
merous accusations  against  their  presumptuous 
abuse  of  power,  described,  with  swelling  enco- 
miums, “ the  illustrious  and  memorable  exploits 
of  their  countrymen;  exploits  which  had  justly 
raised  them  to  a pre-eminence,  acknowledged  by 
their  allies,  uncontested  by  Sparta,  and  felt  by 
Persia.  When  it  became  the  dignity  of  Greece 
to  chastise  the  repeated  insults  of  that  ambitious 
empire,  the  Spartans  had  declined  the  conduct 
of  a distant  war ; Athens  had  assumed  the  aban- 
doned helm,  and,  after  demolishing  the  cruel 
dominion  of  Barbarians,  had  acquired  a just  and 
lawful  sway  over  the  coasts  of  Europe  and  of 
Asia.  The  new  subjects  of  the  republic  were 
long  treated  rather  as  fellow-citizens,  than  as 
tributaries  and  slaves.  But  it  was  the  nature 
of  man  to  revolt  against  the  supposed  injustice 
of  his  equals,  rather  than  against  the  real  ty- 
ranny of  his  masters.  This  circumstance,  so 
honourable  to  Athenian  lenity,  had  occasioned 
several  unprovoked  rebellions,  which  the  re- 
public had  been  compelled  to  punish  with  an 
exemplary  severity.  The  apprehension  of  fu- 
ture commotions  had  lately  obliged  her  to  hold, 
with  a firmer  hand,  the  reins  of  government, 
and  to  maintain  with  armed  power,  an  authority 
justly  earned,  and  strictly  founded  in  nature,  of 
which  it  is  an  unalterable  law,  that  the  strong 
should  govern  the  weak.  If  the  Spartans,  in 
violation  of  the  right  of  treaties,  thought  proper 
to  oppose  this  immovable  purpose,  Athens  well 
knew  how  to  redress  her  wrongs,  and  would, 
doubtless,  uphold  her  empire  with  the  same 
valour  and  activity  by  which  it  had  been  es- 
tablished.” 

Having  heard  both  parties,  the  assembly  ad- 
journed, without  forming  any  resolution.  But 
next  day,  it  appeared  to  -be  the  prevailing  opi- 
nion, that  the  arrogance  and  usurpation  of 
Athens  had  already  violated  the  peace,  and  that 
it  became  the  prudence  as  well  as  the  dignity 
of  Sparta,  no  longer  to  defer  hostilities.  This 
popular  current  was  vainly  opposed  by  the  ex- 
perienced wisdom  of  king  Archidamus,  who 
still  counselled  peace  and  moderation,  though 
his  courage  had  been  conspicuously  distinguish- 
ed in  every  season  of  danger.  He  exhorted  his 
countrymen  “not  to  rush  blindly  on  war,  with- 
out examining  the  resources  of  the  enemy  and 
their  own.  The  Athenians  were  powerful  in 
ships,  in  money,  in  cavalry,  and  in  arms;  of  all 
which  the  Lacedaemonians  were  destitute,  or  at 
least,  but  feebly  provided.  Whatever  provoca- 
tion, therefore  they  had  received,  they  ought  in 
prudence  to  dissemble  their  resentment,  until 
they  could  effectually  exert  their  vengeance. 
The  present  crisis  required  negotiation  ; if  that 
failed,  thesilent  preparation  of  a few  years  would 
enable  them  to  take  the  field  with  well-founded 


3 Thucydid.  I.  xliii.  et  seq. 


hopes  of  redressing  the  grievances  of  their  con- 
federates.” Had  this  moderate  language  made 
any  impression  on  such  an  assembly,  it  would 
have  been  speedily  obliterated  by  the  blunt 
boldness  of  Sthenelaides,  one  of  the  Ephori, 
who  closed  the  debate.  “ Men  of  Sparta  ! Of 
the  long  speeches  of  the  Athenians  I under- 
stand not  the  drift.  While  they  dw§ll  with 
studied  eloquence  on  their  own  praises,  they 
deny  not  their  having  injured  our  allies.  If  they 
behaved  well  in  the  Persian  war,  and  now  other- 
wise, their  degeneracy  is  only  the  more  apparent. 
But  then,  and  now,  we  are  still  the  same;  and 
if  we  would  support  our  character,  we  must  not 
overlook  their  injustice.  They  have  ships,  mo- 
ney, and  horses;  but  we  have  good  allies,  whose 
interests  we  must  not  abandon.  Why  do  we 
deliberate,  while  our  enemies  are  in  arms?  Let 
us  take  the  field  with  speed,  and  fight  with  all 
our  might.”  The  acclamations  of  the  people 
followed,  and  war  was  resolved. 

Olvmn  This  resolution  was  taken  in  the 

lxxxvii  2 fourteenth  year  after  the  conclusion 

A C 431*  Seneral  Peace;  near  a 

twelvemonth  elapsed  before  the  pro- 

perest  measures  for  invading  Attica  could  be 
finally  adjusted  among  the  discordant  members 
of  so  numerous  a confederacy.  It  consisted  of 
all  the  seven  republics  of  the  Peloponnesus,  ex- 
cept Argos  and  Achaia,  the  first  of  which  from 
ambition,  and  the  second  perhaps  from  modera- 
tion,4 preserved,  in  the  beginning  of  the  war,  a 
suspicious  neutrality.  Of  the  nine  northern  re- 
publics, Acarnania  alone  declined  joining  the 
allies,  its  coast  being  particularly  exposed  to  the 
ravages  of  the  Corcyrean  fleets.  The  cities  of 
Naupactus  and  Plataea,  for  reasons  that  will 
soon  appear,  were  totally  devoted  to  their  Athe- 
nian protectors;  whose  cause  was  likewise  em- 
braced by  several  petty  princes  of  Thessaly.  But 
all  the  other  states  beyond  the  isthmus  longed 
to  follow  the  standard  of  Sparta,  and  to  humble 
the  aspiring  ambition  of  their  too  powerful 
neighbour. 

The  representatives  of  these  various  commu- 
nities having,  according  to  the  received  practice 
of  Greece,  assembled  in  the  principal  city  of  the 
confederacy,  were  strongly  encouraged  by  the 
Corinthians,  who,  as  their  colony  of  Potidaea 
was  still  closely  besieged,  laboured  to  accelerate 
reprisals  on  Attica,  by  exhibiting  the  most  ad- 
vantageous prospect  of  the  approaching  war. 
They  observed,  “ That  the  army  of  the  confe- 
deracy, exceeding  sixty  thousand  men,  far  out- 
numbered the  enemy,  whom  they  excelled  still 
more  in  merit,  than  they  surpassed  in  number. 
The  one  was  composed  of  national  troops, 
fightingfor  the  independence  of  those  countries 
in  whose  government  they  had  a share;  the 
other  chiefly  consisted  in  vile  mercenaries,  whose 
pay  was  their  government  and  their  country. 
If  supplies  of  money  were  requisite,  the  allied 
states  would  doubtless  bo  more  liberal  and  for- 
ward to  defend  their  interest  and  honour,  than 
the  reluctant  tributaries  of  Athens  to  rivet 
their  servitude  and  chains:  and  if  still  more 


4 The  ambition  of  Argos  is  confirmed  by  the  subsequent 
measures  of  that  republic;  the  moderation  of  Achaia  is 
suspected,  from  the  nature  of  the  Achaean  laws  which  will 
afterwards  be  described 


188 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


money  should  be  wanted,  the  Delphic  and 
Olympic  treasures  afforded  an  inexhaustible  re- 
source, which  could  not  be  better  expended  than 
in  defending  the  sacred  cause  of  justice  and  of 
Grecian  freedom.”  In  order  to  gain  full  time, 
however,  for  settling  all  matters  among  them- 
selves, the  confederates  despatched  to  Athens 
various  overtures  of  accommodation,  which  they 
well  knew  would  be  indignantly  rejected.  In 
each  embassy  they  rose  in  their  demands,  suc- 
cessively requiring  the  Athenians  to  raise  the 
siege  of  Potidaea;  to  repeal  their  prohibitory  de- 
cree against  Megara ; to  withdraw  their  garrison 
from  iEgina;  in  fine,  to  declare  the  indepen- 
dence of  their  colonies.1 

These  last  demands  were  heard  at  Athens  with 
a mixture  of  rage  and  terror.  The  capricious 
multitude,  who  had  hitherto  approved  and  ad- 
mired the  aspiring  views  of  Pericles,  now  trem- 
bled on  the  brink  of  the  precipice  to  which  he 
had  conducted  them.  They  had  hitherto  pushed 
the  siege  of  Potideea  with  great  vigour,  but 
without  any  near  prospect  of  success.  They 
must  now  contend  with  a numerous  confede- 
racy, expose  their  boasted  grandeur  to  the  doubt- 
ful chance  of  war,  and  exchange  the  amuse- 
ments and  pleasures  of  the  city  for  the  toils  and 
hardships  of  a camp.  Of  these  discontented 
murmurs  the  rivals  and  enemies  of  Pericles 
greedily  availed  themselves,  to  traduce  the  cha- 
racter and  administration  of  that  illustrious 
statesman.  It  was  insinuated,  that,  sacrificing 
to  private  passion  the  interest  of  his  country, 
he  had  enacted  the  imperious  decree,  of  which 
the  allies  so  justly  complained,  to  resent  the 
personal  injury  of  his  beloved  Aspasia,  whose 
family  had  been  insulted  by  some  licentious 
youths  of  Megara.2  Diopeithes,  Dracontides, 
and  other  demagogues,  derided  the  folly  of 
taking  arms  on  such  a frivolous  pretence,  and 
as  preparatory  to  the  impeachment  of  Pericles 
himself,  the  courts  of  justice  were  fatigued  with 
prosecutions  of  his  valuable  friends. 

The  philosopher  Anaxagoras,  and  Phidias  the 
statuary,  reflected  more  lustre  than  they  could 
derive  from  the  protection  of  any  patron.  The 
mixed  character  of  Aspasia  was  of  a more 
doubtful  kind.  To  the  natural  and  sprightly 
graces  of  Ionia,  her  native  country,  she  added 
extraordinary  accomplishments  of  mind  and 
body ; and  having  acquired  in  high  perfection 
the  talents  and  excellences  of  the  other  sex,  was 
accused  of  being  too  indifferent  to  the  honour 
of  her  own.  Scarcely  superior  in  modesty  to 
Phryne,  Thais,  or  Erigone,3  her  wit,  her  know- 
ledge, and  her  eloquence,  excited  universal  ad- 


1 Besides  complying  with  the  demands  mentioned  in  the 
text,  the  Athenians  were  required  “ to  expel  the  descendants 
of  those  impious  men  who  had  profaned  the  temple  of  Mi- 
nerva.” This  alluded  to  an  event  which  happened  the  first 
year  of  the  45th  Olympiad,  or  598  years  before  Christ. 
Cylon,  a powerful  Athenian,  having  seized  the  citadel,  and 
aspiring  at  royalty,  was  defeated  in  his  purpose  by  Mega- 
cles,  a maternal  ancestor  of  Pericles,  who  having  decoyed 
the  associates  of  Cylon  from  the  temple  of  Minerva,  butch- 
ered them  without  mercy,  and  with  too  little  respect  for 
the  privileges  of  that  venerable  sanctuary.  The  whole 
transaction  is  particularly  related  by  Plutarch  in  his  life  of 
Solon.  The  renewal  of  such  an  antiquated  complaint,  at 
this  juncture,  pointed  particularly  at  Pericles,  and  showed 
the  opinion  which  the  Spartans  entertained  of  his  unrivalled 
influence  and  authority. 

2 See  above,  p.  186  3 See  above,  p.  175. 


[Chap. 

miration  or  envy,4  while  the  beauty  of  her 
fancy  and  of  her  person  inspired  more  tender 
sentiments  into  the  susceptible  breast  of  Peri- 
cles. She  was  reproached,  not  with  entertain- 
ing free  votaries  of  pleasure  in  her  family  (which 
in  that  age  was  regarded  as  a very  allowable 
commerce,)  but  of  seducing  the  virtue  of  Athe- 
nian matrons;  a crime  severely  punished  by  the 
laws  of  every  Grecian  republic.  But  we  have 
reason  to  conclude  her  innocent,  since  the 
arguments  and  tears  of  her  lovep  saved  her 
from  the  fury  of  an  enraged  populace,  at  a 
crisis  when  his  most  strenuous  exertions  cquld 
not  prevent  the  banishment  of  Anaxagoras  and 
Phidias. 

The  former  was  accused  of  propagating  doc- 
trines inconsistent  with  the  established  religion ; 
the  latter  of  having  indulged  the  very  pardon- 
able vanity  (as  it  should  seem)  of  representing 
himself,  and  his  patron,  on  the  shield  of  his 
admired  statue  of  Minerva.  There,  with  inimi- 
table art,  Phidias  had  engraved  the  renowned 
victory  of  the  Athenians  over  the  warlike 
daughters  of  the  Therrnodon;5  he  had  de- 
lineated himself  in  the  figure  of  a bald  old 
man  raising  a heavy  stone  (an  allusion  to  his 
skill  in  architecture,)  while  the  features  of 
Pericles  were  distinguished  in  the  countenance 
of  an  Athenian  chief,  bravely  combating  the 
queen  of  the  Amazons,  though  his  elevated 
arm  hid  part  of  the  face,  and  in  some  measure 
concealed  the  resemblance.6  For  this  fictitious 
crime,  Phidias  was  driven  from  a city  which 
had  been  adorned  by  the  unwearied  labours  of 
his  long  life,  and  debarred  beholding  those 
wonders  of  art  which  his  sublime  genius  had 
created. 

The  accusation  of  the  principal  friends  of 
Pericles  paved  the  way  for  his  own.  He  was 
reproached  with  embezzling  the  public  treasure ; 
but,  on  this  occasion,  plain  facts  confounded  the 
artifices  of  his  enemies.  It  was  proved,  that 
his  private  expenses  were  justly  proportioned  to 
the  measure  of  his  patrimony ; many  instances 
were  brought  of  his  generous  contempt  of 
wealth  in  the  service  of  his  country ; and  it  ap- 
peared, after  the  strictest  examination,  that  his 
fortune  had  not  increased  since  he  was  intrusted 
with  the  exchequer.  This  honourable  display 
of  unshaken  probity,  which  had  ever  formed  the 
basis  of  the  authority7  of  Pericles,  again  recon- 
ciled to  him  the  unsteady  affections  of  his  coun- 
trymen, and  gave  irresistible  force  to  that  famous 
and  fatal  speech,  which  unalterably  decided  the 
war  of  Peloponnesus. 

“ Often  have  I declared,  Athenians!  that  we 


4 Plato  in  Mcnex.  5 Lysias  Orat.  Funeb. 

6 Plut.  in  Pericl.  et  Aristot.  de  Mund. 

7 This  testimony,  which  is  given  by  the  impartiality  of 
Thucydides,  destroys  at  once  the  numerous  aspersions  of 
the  comic  poets  of  the  times,  which  have  been  copied  by 
Plutarch,  and  from  him  transcribed  by  modern  compilers. 
Pericles,  it  is  said,  raised  the  war  of  Peloponnesus, 
merely  for  his  own  convenience  and  safety ; and  was  en- 
couraged to  tliis  measure  by  the  ndvice  of  his  kinsman  Al- 
cibiades,  then  a boy ; who,  calling  one  day  at  his  house, 
was  refused  admittance,  “ because  Pericles  was  occupied 
in  considering  how  he  might  best  state  his  accounts.” 
“Let  him  rather  consider,”  said  the  sagacious  stripling, 
11  bow  to  give  no  account  at  all.”  Pericles  took  the  hint, 
and  involved  his  country  in  a war,  which  allowed  no  time 
for  examining  the  public  expenditure.  Such  anecdotes  may 
amuse  those  who  can  believe  them. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


189 


XV.] 

must  not  obey  the  unjust  commands  of  our  ene- 
mies. I am  still  firmly  of  that  mind,  convinced 
as  I am  of  the  dangerous  vicissitudes  of  war  and 
fortune;  and  that  human  hopes,  designs,  and 
pursuits,  are  all  fleeting  and  fallacious.  Yet,  in 
the  present  crisis,  necessity  and  glory  should 
alike  fix  us  to  this  immovable  resolution.  The 
decree  against  Megara,  which  the  first  embassy 
required  us  to  repeal,  is  not  the  cause  of  that 
hostile  jealousy  which  has  long  secretly  envied 
our  greatness,  and  which  has  now  more  openly 
conspired  our  destruction.  Yet  that  decree,  of 
which  some  men  have  spoken  so  lightly,  in- 
volved the  honour  of  our  councils  and  the  sta- 
bility of  our  empire.  By  pusillanimously  re- 
pealing it,  we  should  have  emboldened  that  ma- 
lignant enmity,  which,  notwithstanding  our 
proper  firmness  in  the  first  instance,  has  yet 
successively  risen  to  higher  and  more  arbitrary 
demands;  demands  which  merit  to  be  answered, 
not  by  embassies,  but  by  arms. 

“ The  flourishing  resources,  and  actual 
strength,  of  the  republic,  afford  us  the  most  flat- 
tering prospect  of  military  success.  Impregnably 
fortified  by  land,  our  shores  are  defended  by 
three  hundred  gallies;  besides  a body  of  ca- 
valry, to  the  number  of  twelve  hundred,  together 
with  two  thousand  archers,  we  can  immediately 
take  the  field  with  thirteen  thousand  pikemen, 
without  draining  our  foreign  garrisons,  or  di- 
minishing the  complete  number  of  sixteen 
thousand  men  who  defend  the  walls  and  for- 
tresses in  Attica.  The  wealthy  seaports  of 
Thrace  and  Macedon;  the  flourishing  colonies 
of  Iona,  Eolia,  and  Doria;  in  a word  the  whole 
extensive  coast  of  the  Asiatic  peninsula,  ac- 
knowledge by  annual  contributions,  the  so- 
vereignty of  our  guardian  navy,  whose  strength 
is  increased  by  the  ships  of  Chios,  Lesbos,  and 
Corcyra,  while  the  smaller  islands  furnish  us, 
according  to  their  ability,  with  money  and 
troops.  Athens  thus  reigns  queen  of  a thou- 
sand8 tributary  republics,  and  notwithstanding 
the  expenses  incurred  by  the  siege  of  Potidsea, 
and  the  architectural  ornaments  of  the  city,  she 
possesses  six  thousand  talents  in  her  treasury. 

“ The  situation  of  our  enemies  is  totally  the 
reverse.  Animated  by  rage,  and  emboldened 
by  numbers,  they  may  be  roused  to  a transient, 
desultory  assault ; but  destitute  of  resources, 
and  divided  in  interests,  they  are  totally  inca- 
pable of  any  steady,  persevering  exertion.  With 
sixty  thousand  men  they  may  enter  Attica ; 
and  if  our  unseasonable  courage  gives  them  an 
opportunity,  may  win  a battle  ; but  unless  our 
rash  imprudence  assists  and  enables  them,  they 
cannot  possibly  prosecute  a successful  war.  In- 
deed, Athenians ! I dread  less  the  power  of  the 
enemy,  than  your  own  ungovernable  spirit.  In- 
stead of  being  seduced  from  your  security,  by 
a vain  desire  to  defend,  against  superior  num- 
bers, your  plantations  and  villas  in  the  open 
country,  you  ought  to  destroy  these  superfluous 
possessions  with  your  own  hands.  To  you  who 
receive  the  conveniences  of  life  from  so  many 
distant  dependencies,  the  devastation  of  Attica 
is  a matter  of  small  moment ; but  how  can 


8 Aristoph.  Vesp.  He  says,  that  twenty  thousand  Athe- 
nians might  live  as  in  the  Elysian  fields,  if  each  tributary 
city  undertook  to  provide  for  twenty  citizens.  V.  703,  &c. 


your  enemies  repair,  how  can  they  survive,  the 
devastation  of  the  Peloponnesus?  How  can 
they  prevent,  or  remedy,  this  fatal,  this  intoler- 
able calamity,  while  the  squadrons  of  Athens 
command  the  surrounding  seas  ? If  these  con- 
siderations be  allowed  their  full  weight ; if  rea- 
son, not  passion,  conducts  the  war,  it  seems 
scarcely  in  the  power  of  fortune  to  rob  you  of 
victory.  Yet  let  us  answer  the  Peloponnesians 
with  moderation,  “ that  we  will  not  forbid  tha 
Megareans  our  ports  and  markets,  if  the  Spar- 
tans, and  other  states  of  Greece,  abolish  their 
exclusive  and  inhospitable  laws  : that  we  will 
restore  independent  governments  to  such  cities 
as  were  free  at  the  last  treaty  of  peace,  provided 
the  Spartans  engage  to  follow  our  example : 
that  we  are  ready  to  submit  all  differences  to 
the  impartial  decision  of  any  equitable  tribunal ; 
and  that,  although  these  condescending  over- 
tures be  rejected,  we  will  not  commence  hostili- 
ties, but  are  prepared  to  repel  them  with  our 
usual  vigour. ”9  The  assembly  murmured  ap- 
plause ; a decree  was  proposed  and  ratified  ; 
the  ambassadors  returned  home  with  the  re- 
ply dictated  by  Pericles  ; which,  moderate  as  it 
seemed  to  the  Athenian  statesman,  sounded  like 
an  immediate  declaration  of  war  to  the  Spar- 
tans and  their  allies. 

Six  months  after  the  battle  of 
lxxxvii*  2 the  Thebans,  who  were 

A C 431*  mos^  Power^*ut  and  the  most 
Ma  *7th  * faring  °f  these  allies,  undertook  a 
y ‘ military  enterprise  against  the  small 
but  magnanimous  republic  of  Plataea.  Though 
situate  in  the  heart  of  Boeotia,  amidst  nu- 
merous and  warlike  enemies,  the  Plataeans  still 
preserved  an  unshaken  fidelity  to  Athens, 
whose  toils  and  triumphs  they  had  shared  in 
the  Persian  war.  Yet  even  this  feeble  commu- 
nity, surrounded  on  every  side  by  hostile  Boeo- 
tians, was  not  exempted  from  domestic  discord. 
Nauclides,  the  perfidious  and  bloody  leader  of 
an  aristocratical  faction,  engaged  to  betray  the 
Platasan  gates  to  a body  of  foreign  troops,  pro- 
vided they  enabled  him  to  overturn  the  demo- 
cracy, and  to  take  vengeance  on  his  political 
adversaries,  whom  he  regarded  as  his  personal 
foes.  Eurymachus,  a noble  and  wealthy  The- 
ban, with  whom,  in  the  name  of  his  associates, 
this  sanguinary  agreement  had  been  contracted, 
entered  Platsea  with  three  hundred  of  his  coun- 
trymen, at  the  first  watch  of  the  night ; but, 
regardless  of  their  promise  to  Nauclides,  who 
expected  that  they  would  break  tumultuously 
into  the  houses,  and  butcher  his  enemies,  the 
Thebans  formed  regularly  in  arms,  and  re- 
mained quietly  in  the  market-place,  having  is- 
sued a proclamation  to  invite  all  the  citizens 
indiscriminately  to  become  allies  to  Thebes. 
The  Platceans  readily  accepted  a proposal, 
which  delivered  them  from  the  terror  of  imme- 
diate death.  But  while  they  successively  rati- 
fied the  agreement,  they  observed,  with  mixed 


9 In  examining  the  speech  ascribed  to  Pericles,  on  this 
occasion,  by  Thucydides,  the  attentive  reader  will  per- 
ceive that  it  supposes  the  knowledge  of  several  events 
omitted  in  the  preceding  narrative  of  that  historian,  but 
which  are  carefully  related  in  the  text.  The  English 
Speech  is  shorter  than  the  Greek,  but  contains  more  in 
formation,  collected  from  Plutarch,  Diodorus,  Aristo 
I plmnes,  and  the  2nd  book  of  Thucydides  himself. 


190 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


shame  and  joy,  that  darkness  and  surprise  had 
greatly  augmented  the  number  of  the  con- 
spirators. Encouraged  by  this  discovery,  they 
secretly  despatched  a messenger  to  Athens ; 
and,  while  they  expected  the  assistance  of  their 
distant  protector,  determined  to  leave  nothing 
untried  for  their  own  deliverance. 

The  night  was  spent  in  an  operation  not  less 
daring  than  extraordinary.  As  they  could  not 
assemble  in  the  streets  without  alarming  sus- 
picion, they  dug  through  the  interior  walls  of 
their  houses,  and  fortified  the  outward  in  the 
best  manner  the  time  would  allow,  with  their 
plough^,  carts,  and  other  instruments  of  hus- 
bandry. Before  day-break  the  work  was  com- 
plete ; when,  with  one  consent,  they  rushed 
furiously  against  the  enemy,  the  women  and 
children  animating  with  horrid  shrieks  and 
gestures  the  efforts  of  their  rage.  It  was  night, 
and  a storm  of  rain  and  thunder  augmented 
the  gloomy  terrors  of  the  battle.  The  Thebans 
were  unacquainted  "with  the  ground  ; above  a 
hundred  fell ; near  two  hundred  fled  in  trepi- 
dation to  a lofty  and  spacious  tower  adjoining 
the  walls,  which  they  mistook  for  one  of  the 
gates  of  the  city.  In  the  first  movements  of  re- 
sentment, the  Plataeans  prepared  to  burn  them 
alive ; but  a moment’s  reflection  deterred  them 
from  this  dangerous  cruelty.  Meanwhile  a 
considerable  body  of  Thebans  advanced  to- 
wards Plataea,  to  co-operate  with  their  country- 
men. Their  progress  would  have  been  hastened 
by  a fugitive  who  met  them,  and  related  the 
miscarriage  of  the  enterprise,  had  not  the  heavy 
rain  so  much  swelled  the  Asopus,  that  an  un- 
usual time  was  spent  in  crossing  that  river. 
They  had  scarcely  entered  the  Plataean  terri- 
tory, when  a second  messenger  informed  them, 
that  their  unfortunate  companions  were  all 
killed  or  taken  prisoners.  Upon  this  intelli- 
gence they  paused  to  consider,  whether,  instead 
of  proceeding  to  the  Plataean  walls,  where  they 
could  not  perform  any  immediate  service,  they 
ought  not,  as  an  easier  enterprise,  to  seize  the 
citizens  of  that  place,  who  were  dispersed  over 
their  villages  in  the  open  country. 

But  while  they  deliberated  on  this  measure,  a 
Platsean  herald  arrived,  complaining  of  the  un- 
just and  most  unexpected  infraction  of  the 
peace,  by  a daring  and  atrocious  conspiracy  ; 
commanding  the  Thebans  immediately  to  leave 
the  territory  of  Plataea,  if  they  hoped  to  "de- 
liver their  fellow  citizens  from  captivity  ; and 
denouncing,  if  they  refused  compliance,  that 
their  countrymen  would  inevitably  be  punished 
with  a cruel  death.  This  stratagem,  not  less 
audacious  than  artful,  prevailed  on  the  enemy 
to  repass  the  Asopus,  while  the  Plataeans  lost 
not  a' moment  to  assemble  within  their  walls  the 
scattered  inhabitants  of  their  fields  and  villas ; 
and  braving  the  Theban  resentment,  the  imme- 
diate effects  of  which  they  had  rendered  impo- 
tent, massacred  the  unhappy  prisoners,  to  the 
number  of  a hundred  and  eighty,  among  whom 
was  Eurymachus,  the  chief  promoter  of  the 
expedition.  After  this  signal  act  of  vengeance, 
they  strengthened  the  works  of  the  place ; trans- 
ported their  wives  and  children  to  the  tributary 
islands  of  Athens ; and  that  they  might  more 
securely  sustain  the  expected  siege,  required 


[Chap, 

and  received  from  that  republic  a plentiful  sup- 
ply of  provisions,  and  a considerable  reinforce- 
ment of  troops. 

A.  C.  431.  ^he  sword  was  now  drawn,  and 

‘ * * both  parties  seemed  eager  to  exert 

their  utmost  strength.  The  Spartans  summoned 
their  confederates  to  the  Isthmus ; demanded 
money  and  ships  from  their  Italian  antf  Sicilian 
colonies  ; and  solicited  assistance  from  the  Per- 
sian monarch  Artaxerxes,  and  from  Perdiccas 
king  of  Macedon  ; both  of  whom  naturally  re- 
garded the  Athenians  as  dangerous  neighbours, 
and  ambitious  invaders  of  their  coasts.  The 
people  of  Athens  also  condescended  to  crave 
the  aid  of  Barbarians,  and  actually  contracted 
an  alliance  with  Sitalces,  the  warlike  chief  of 
the  Odrysians,  who  formed  the  most  powerful 
tribe  in  upper  Thrace.  They  required  at  the 
same  time  an  immediate  supply  of  cavalry  from 
their  Thessalian  allies,  while  their  fleet  already 
cruised  along  the  coast  of  Peloponnesus,  to 
confirm  the  fidelity  of  the  surrounding  islands  ; 
an  object  deemed  essential  to  the  successful  in- 
vasion of  that  territory.  The  unexperienced 
youth,  extremely  numerous  in  most  republics 
of  Greece,  rejoiced  at  the  prospect  of  war. 
The  aged  saw  and  dreaded  the  general  commo- 
tion, darkly  foretold,  as  they  thought,  by  an- 
cient oracles  and  prophecies,  but  clearly  and 
recently  announced,  by  an  earthquake  in  the 
sacred,  and  hitherto  immovable  island  of  De- 
los. Such  was  the  ardour  of  preparation,  that 
only  a few  weeks  after  the  surprise  of  Plataea, 
the  Lacedaemonian  confederates  to  the  number 
of  sixty  thousand,  assembled  from  the  north 
and  south,  at  the  Corinthian  Isthmus.  Theu 
several  communities  were  respectively  com- 
manded by  leaders  of  their  own  appointment ; 
but  the  general  conduct  of  the  war  was  in- 
trusted to  Archidamus,  the  Spartan  king. 

In  a council  of  the  chiefs,  that  prince  warmly 
approved  their  alacrity  in  taking  the  field,  and 
extolled  the  greatness  and  bravery  of  an  army, 
the  most  numerous  and  best  provided  that  had 
ever  followed  the  standard  of  any  Grecian  ge- 
neral. Yet  their  preparations,  however  extraor- 
dinary, were  not  greater  than  their  enterprise 
required.  They  had  waged  war  with  a people 
not  less  powerful,  than  active  and  daring  ; who 
had  discernment  to  perceive,  and  ability  to  im- 
prove, every  opportunity  of  advantage;  and 
whose  resentment  would  be  as  much  inflamed, 
as  their  pride  would  be  wounded,  by  the  ap- 
proach of  invasion  and  hostility.  It  seemed 
probable,  that  the  Athenians  would  not  allow 
their  lands  to  be  wasted,  without  attempting  to 
defend  them.  The  confederates,  therefore, 
must  be  always  on  their  guard  ; their  disci- 
pline must  be  strict,  regular,  and  uniform  ; to 
elude  the  skill,  and  to  oppose  the  strength  of 
Athens,  demanded  their  utmost  vigilance  and 
activity. 

Archidamus,  after  leading  his  army  into  At- 
tica, seems  blamable  in  allowing  their  martial 
ardour  to  evaporate  in  the  fruitless  siege  of 
CEnod,  the  strongest  Athenian  town  towards 
the  southern  frontier  of  Bceotia.  This  tedious 
and  unsuccessful  operation  enrfbled  the  Athe- 
nians to  complete,  without  interruption,  the 
singular  plan  of  defence  so  ably  traced  by  the 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


191 


XV.] 

bold  genius  of  Pericles.  They  hastened  the 
desolation  of  their  own  fields ; demolished  their 
delightful  gardens  and  villas,  which  it  had  been 
their  pride  to  adorn ; and  transported,  either  to 
Athens  or  the  isles,  their  valuable  effects,  their 
cattle,  furniture,  and  even  the  frames  of  their 
houses.  The  numerous  inhabitants  of  the 
country  towns,  and  villages,  where  the  more 
opulent  Athenians  commonly  spent  the  greater 
part  of  their  time,  flocked  to  the  capital,  which 
was  well  furnished  with  the  means  of  subsist- 
ence, though  not  of  accommodation,  for  sucli  a 
promiscuous  crowd  of  strangers,  with  their 
families,  slaves,  or  servants.  Many  people  of 
i^wer  rank,  destitute  of  private  dwellings,  were 
obliged  to  occupy  the  public  halls,  the  groves 
and  temples,  the  walls  and  battlements.  Even 
persons  of  distinction  were  narrowly  and 
meanly  lodged  ; an  inconvenience  severely  felt 
by  men  accustomed  to  live  at  large  in  the 
country,  in  rural  ease  and  elegance.  But  re- 
sentment against  the  public  enemy  blunted  the 
sense  of  personal  hardship,  and  silenced  the 
voice  of  private  complaint. 

Mean  while,  the  confederate  army,  having 
raised  the  siege  of  CEnoe,  advanced  along  the 
eastern  frontier  of  Attica ; and,  within  eighty 
days  after  the  surprise  of  Platsea,  invaded  the 
j-.,  Thriasian  plain,  the  richest  orna- 

lxxxvii  2 the  Athenian  territory. 

A C 431"  ^-av*n£  wasted  that  valuable  dis- 
trict with  fire  and  sword,  they  pro- 
ceeded to  Eleusis,  and  from  thence  to  Acliar- 
nae,  the  largest  borough  in  the  province,  and 
only  eight  miles  distant  from  the  capital. 
There  they  continued  an  unusual  length  of 
time,  gradually  demolishing  the  houses  and 
plantations,  and  daily  exercising  every  act  of 
rapacious  cruelty,  with  a view  either  to  draw 
the  enemy  to  a battle,  or  to  discover  whether 
they  were  unalterably  determined  to  keep 
within  their  walls ; a resolution,  which,  if 
clearly  ascertained,  would  enable  the  invaders 
to  proceed  with  more  boldness  and  effect,  and 
to  carry  on  their  ravages  with  security,  even  to 
the  gates  of  Athens. 

The  Athenians,  hitherto  intent  on  their  na- 
val preparations,  had  exerted  an  uncommon 
degree  of  patience  and  self-command.  But 
their  unruly  passions  could  no  longer  be  re- 
strained, when  they  learned  the  proceedings  in 
Acharnse.  The  proprietors  of  that  rich  and  ex- 
tensive district  boasted  that  they  alone  could 
send  three  thousand  brave  spearmen  into  the 
field,  and  lamented,  that  they  should  remain 
cooped  up  in  dishonourable  confinement,  while 
their  possessions  fell  a prey  to  a hostile  in- 
vader. Their  animated  complaints  inflamed 
the  kindred  ardour  of  the  Athenian  youth.  It 
appeared  unworthy  of  those,  who  had  so  often 
ravaged  with  impunity  the  territories  of  their 
neighbours,  patiently  to  behold  the  desolation 
of  their  own.  Interested  priests  announced  ap- 
proaching calamity  ; seditious  orators  clamour- 
ed against  the  timid  councils  of  Pericles ; the 
impetuous  youth  required  their  general  to  lead 
them  to  battle.  Amidst  this  popular  commo- 
tion, the  accomplished  general  and  statesman 
remained  unmoved,  bravely  resisting  the  storm, 
or  dexterously  eluding  its  force.  Though  de- 


termined not  to  risk  an  engagement  with  the 
confederates,  he  seasonably  employed  the  Athe- 
nian and  Thessalian  cavalry  to  beat  up  their 
quarters,  to  intercept  their  convoys,  to  harass, 
surprise,  or  cut  off  their  advanced  parties. 
While  these  enterprises  tended  to  divert  or  ap- 
pease the  tumult,  a fleet  of  a hundred  and  fifty 
sail  ravaged  the  defenceless  coast  of  Pelopon- 
nesus. A squadron,  less  numerous,  made  a de- 
scent on  Locris.  The  rebellious  inhabitants  of 
iEgina  were  driven  from  their  possessions,  and 
an  Athenian  colony  was  settled  in  that  island. 
The  wretched  fugitives,  whose  country  had 
long  rivalled  Athens  itself  in  wealth,  commerce, 
and  naval  power,  received  the  maritime  dis- 
trict of  Thyrea1  from  the  bounty  of  their  Spar- 
tan protectors. 

Intelligence  of  these  proceedings,  and  still 
more  the  scarcity  of  provisions,  engaged  the 
confederates  to  return  to  their  respective  re- 
publics. Having  advanced  by  the  eastern,  they 
retired  along  the  western,  frontier  of  Attica ; 
every  place  in  their  line  of  march  experiencing 
the  fatal  effects  of  their  resentment  or  rapacity. 
Soon  after  their  retreat,  Pericles,  towards  the 
beginning  of  autumn,  led  out  the  Athenians  to 
ravage  the  neighbouring  and  hostile  province 
of  Megara.  The  invading  army  was  accident- 
ally observed  by  the  fleet,  while  it  returned 
from  the  coast  of  Peloponnesus.  The  sailors 
hastened  to  share  the  danger  and  plunder. 
The  whole  Athenian  force  thus  amounted  to 
near  tvwenty  thousand  men  ; a number  far  more 
than  sufficient  to  deprive  the  industrious  Me- 
garians  of  the  hope  of  a scanty  harvest,  earned 
with  infinite  toil  and  care,  in  their  narrow  un- 
fruitful territory. 

The  winter  was  not  distinguished  by  any 
important  expedition  on  either  side.  The  Co- 
rinthians, long  inured  to  the  sea  in  all  seasons, 
carried  on  indecisive  hostilities  against  the 
Athenian  allies  in  Acarnania.  During  this  in- 
active portion  of  the  year,  the  Athenians,  as 
well  as  their  enemies,  were  employed  in  cele- 
brating the  memory  qf  the  dead,  with  much 
funeral  pomp,  and  high  encomiums  on  their 
valour  ;2  in  distributing  the  prizes  of  merit 


1 This  district  lay  on  the  frontier  of  the  Argive  and  La- 
cedaemonian territory,  and  was  long  an  object  of  conten- 
tion between  those  republics.  See  p.  89. 

2 This  mournful  solemnity,  as  practised  by  the  Athenians, 
is  described  by  Thucydides,  I.  ii.  p.  120,  et  seq.  The  bones 
of  the  deceased  were  brought  to  a tabernacle  previously 
erected  for  receiving  them.  On  the  day  appointed  for  the 
funeral,  they  were  conveyed  from  thence  in  cypress  coffins, 
drawn  on  carriages,  one  for  each  tribe,  to  the  public  sepul- 
chre in  the  Ceramicus,  the  most  beautiful  suburb  of  the 
city.  The  relations  of  the  dead  decked  out  the  remains  of 
their  friends,  as  they  judged  most  proper.  (See  Lysias 
against  Agoratus.)  One  empty  bier  was  drawn  along  in 
honour  of  those  whose  bodies  had  not  been  recovered. 
Persons  of  every  age,  and  of  either  sex,  citizens  and  stran- 
gers, attended  this  solemnity.  When  the  bones  were  de- 
posited in  the  earth,  some  citizen  of  dignity  and  merit, 
named  by  the  state,  mounted  a lofty  pulpit,  and  pronounced 
the  panegyric  of  the  deceased,  of  their  ancestors,  and  the 
Athenian  republic.  On  this  occasion,  Pericles  himself  had 
been  appointed  to  that  solemn  office.  lie  performed  it  with 
great  dignity.  His  speech,  containing  almost  as  many 
ideas  as  words,  is  incapable  of  abridgment;  nor  does  its 
nature  admit  the  insertion  of  it  entire  in  the  present  history, 
in  which  eloquence  is  merely  considered  as  an  instrument 
of  government,  and  such  speeches  only  introduced  as  in 
fluencod  public  resolutions  and  measures.  It  is,  however, 
worthy  of  observation,  that  his  magnificent  display  of  tho 


192 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


among  the  surviving  warriors ; in  confirming 
their  respective  alliances ; and  in  fortifying 
such  places  on  their  frontier  as  seemed  most 
exposed  to  military  excursions,  or  naval  de- 
scents. 

The  return  of  summer  brought  back  into  At- 
tica the  Peloponnesian  invaders  ; but  it  like- 
wise introduced  a far  more  dreadful  calamity. 
A P A destructive  pestilence,  engendered 

' 4:iU‘  in  ^Ethiopia,  infected  Egypt,  and 

spread  over  great  part  of  the  dominions  of  the 
king  of  Persia.  History  does  not  explain  by 
what  means  this  fatal  disorder  was  communi- 
cated to  Greece.  The  year  had  been  in  other 
respects  remarkably  healthful.  As  the  disease 
first  appeared  in  the  Piraeus,  the  principal 
Athenian  harbour,  we  may  be  allowed  to  c<m- 
jecture,  that  it  was  imported  from  the  east, 
either  by  the  Athenian  merchantmen,  or  by 
the  ships  of  war,  which  annually  sailed  to  that 
quarter,  in  order  to  levy  money  on  the  tributary 
cities.  When  its  miserable  symptoms  broke 
out  in  the  Piraeus,  the  inhabitants  suspected 
that  the  enemy  had  poisoned  their  wells.  But 
it  soon  extended  over  the  adjoining  districts, 
and  raged  with  peculiar  violence  in  the  popu- 
lous streets  which  surrounded  the  citadel. 

The  malady  appeared  under  various  forms, 
in  different  constitutions  ; but  its  specific  symp- 
toms were  invariably  the  same.  It  began  with 
a burning  heat  in  the  head  ; the  eyes  were  red 
and  inflamed ; the  tongue  and  mouth  had  the 
colour  of  blood.  The  pain  and  inflammation 
descended  to  the  breast  with  inexpressible  an- 
guish ; the  skin  was  covered  with  ulcers ; the 
body  of  a livid  red  ; the  external  heat  not  sen- 
sible to  the  touch,  but  the  internal  so  violent, 
that  the  slightest  covering  could  not  be  endured. 
An  insatiable  thirst  was  a universal  symptom  ; 
and,  when  indulged,  increased  the  disorder. 
When  the  bowels  were  attacked,  the  patient 
soon  perished  through  debility.  Some  lived 
seven  or  nine  days,  and  died  of  a fever,  with 
apparent  remains  of  strength.  The  life  was 
saved,  when  the  internal  vigour  diverted  the 
course  of  the  disease  towards  the  extremities. 
Those  who  once  recovered  were  never  danger- 
ously attacked  a second  time,  from  which  they 
conceived  a vain  hope  of  proving  thenceforth 
superior  to  every  bodily  infirmity.  The  disorder, 
which  was  always  accompanied  with  an  ex- 
treme dejection  of  spirits,  often  impaired  the 
judgment,  as  well  as  the  memory.  All  reme- 
dies, human  and  divine,  were  employed  in  vain 
to  stop  the  progress  of  this  fatal  contagion. 
The  miserable  crowds  expired  in  the  temples, 
preferring  unavailing  prayers  to  the  gods.  A 
shocking  spectacle  was  seen  round  the  sacred 
fountains,  where  multitudes  lay  dead,  or  perish- 
ing in  agonizing  torture.  At  length  all  medical 
assistance  was  despised,1  and  all  religious  cere- 


advantages,  the  security,  and  the  glory  of  Athens,  forms  a 
striking  contrast  with  the  unexpected  calamities  which 
soon  overwhelmed  his  unhappy  country. 

1 The  supposed  decree  of  the  Athenians  in  favour  of 
Hippocrates,  says,  that  his  scholars  showed  the  means  both 
of  preventing  and  curing  the  plague.  T*i;  xe*  See*?™***? 
ua-9*Ku>;  J«069£u£*o-5a«  tov  koifiov  ; and  again,  On-*?  re 

** Tfizij  SoSjj<ra  *<r<t >xku>$  ux^si  rows  xx/uvovrag.  Hippo- 
crates, p.  1290.  This  decree  therefore,  as  well  as  the  letters 

of  Hippocrates,  mentioning  the  plague  of  Athens,  are  un- 
questionably spurious.  The  malady  is  minutely  described 


[Chap. 

monies  neglected.  Continually  suffering  op 
apprehending  the  most  dreadful  calamities,  th 
Athenians  became  equally  regardless  of  laws 
human  and  divine.  The  fleeting  moment  only 
was  theirs.  About  the  future  they  felt  no  con- 
cern, nor  did  they  believe  it  of  concern  to  the 
gods,  since  all  alike  perished,  guilty  or  inno 
cent.  Decency  no  longer  imposing  respec4- 
the  only  pursuit  was  that  of  present  pleasure 
To  beings  of  an  hour,  the  dread  of  punishmen 
formed  no  restraint ; to  victims  of  misery,  con* 
science  presented  no  terrors.  Athens  thus  ex- 
hibited at  once  whatever  is  most  afflicting  in 
wretchedness,  and  most  miserable  in  vice, 
uniting  to  the  rage  of  disease  the  more  destruc- 
tive fury  of  unbridled  passions. 

While  the  city  fell  a prey  to  these  accumu- 
lated evils,  the  country  was  laid  waste  by  an 
Olvmn  implacable  enemy.  On  the  present 
, * . . „ occasion,  the  confederates  advanced 
™U43o  beyond  Athens  ; they  destroyed 
the  works  of  the  miners  on  Mount 
Laurium ; and,  having  ravaged  all  that  south- 
ern district,  as  well  as  the  coast  opposite  to 
Euboea  and  Naxos,  they  traced  a line  of  devas- 
tation along  the  Marathonian  shore,  the  glo- 
rious scene  of  an  immortal  victory,  obtained  by 
the  valour  of  Athens,  in  defence  of  those  very 
states  by  which  her  own  territories  were  now 
so  cruelly  desolated. 

If  conscious  wisdom  and  rectitude  were  not 
superior  to  every  assault  of  fortune,  the  manly 
soul  of  Pericles  must  have  sunk  under  the 
weight  of  such  multiplied  calamities.  But  his 
fortitude  still  supported  him  amidst  the  flood  of 
public  and  domestic'  wo.  With  decent  and 
magnanimous  composure,  he  beheld  the  un- 
happy fate  of  his  numerous  and  flourishing 
family,  successively  snatched  away  by  the  ra- 
pacious pestilence.  At  the  funeral  of  the  last 
of  his  sons,  he  dropped,  indeed,  a few  reluctant 
tears  of  paternal  tenderness.  But,  ashamed  of 
this  momentary  weakness,  he  bent  his  unde- 
jected mind  to  the  defence  of  the  republic. 
Having  collected  a hundred  Athenian,  together 
with  fifty  Chian  or  Lesbian  vessels,  he  sailed 
through  the  Saronic  gulf,  and  ravaged  the  un- 
protected coasts  of  Elis,  Argos,  and  Laconia. 
While  this  armament  weighed  anchor  in  the 
Piraeus,  there  happened  an  eclipse  of  the  sun,2 
which  terrified  the  superstitious  mariners,  whose 
minds  were  already  clouded  by  calamity.  The 
pilot  of  the  admiral’s  galley  betrayed  the  most 
unmanly  cowardice,  when  Pericles,  throwing  a 
cloak  before  his  eyes,  asked,  whether  the  ob- 
scurity surprised  him.  The  pilot  answering 
him  in  the  negative,  w Neither,”  rejoined  Peri- 
cles, “ ought  an  eclipse  of  the  sun,  occasioned 
by  the  intervention  of  a revolving  planet,  which 
intercepts  its  light.” 

Having  arrived  on  the  Argolic  coast,  the 


by  Thucvdides,  1.  ii.  c.  xlvii.  by  Lucretius,  1.  vi.  ver.  1136, 
et  seq.  Diodorus,  1.  xii.  differs  widely  from  them  both, 
probably  having  copied  from  Ephorus  and  Theopompus. 
Hippocrates  has  several  cases  of  the  plague  from  Thasos, 
Abdpra,  &c.  but  not  one  from  Athens.  See  Hippocrat.  de 
Morbis  Epidem. 

2 Plutarch,  in  Pericle.  But  as  Thucydides  mentions  no 
such  eclipse  that  summer,  although  extremely  attentive  in 
recording  such  phenomena,  I would  not  warrant  the  chro- 
nology of  Plutarch. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


193 


XI.) 

Athenians  laid  siege  to  the  sacred  city  Epi- 
daurus,  whose  inhabitants  gloried  in  the  pecu- 
liar favour  of  iEsculapius.  The  plague  again 
breaking  out  in  the  fleet,  was  na- 
, ^ „ turally  ascribed  to  the  vengeance 

AXCV1430  t*iat  °®,en(^e^  divinity.  They 
‘ raised  the  siege  of  Epidaurus  ; nor 
were  their  operations  more  successful  against 
TrtEzene,  Hermione,  and  other  Peloponnesian 
cities.  They  took  only  the  small  fortress  of 
Prasiae,  a sea-port  of  Laconia;  after  which  they 
returned  to  the  Piraeus,  afflicted  with  the  pesti- 
lence, and  without  having  performed  any  thing 
that  corresponded  to  the  greatness  of  the  arma- 
ment, or  the  public  expectation. 

The  Athenian  expedition  into  Thrace  was 
still  more  unfortunate.  Into  that  country 
Agnon  conducted  a body  of  four  thousand  men, 
to  co-operate  with  Phormio  in  the  siege  of  Po- 
tidaea.  But  in  the  space  of  forty  days,  he  lost 
one  thousand  and  fifty  men  in  the  plague  ; and 
the  only  consequence  of  his  expedition  was,  to 
infect  the  northern  army  with  that  melancholy 
disorder. 

These  multiplied  disasters  reduced  the  Athe- 
nians to  despair.  Their  sufferings  exceeded 
example  and  belief,  while  they  were  deprived 
of  the  only  expected  consolation,  the  pleasure 
of  revenge.  The  bulk  of  the  people  desired 
peace  on  any  terms.  Ambassadors  were  sent  to 
Sparta,  but  not  admitted  to  an  audience.  The 
orators  clamoured,  and  traduced  Pericles.  The 
undiscerning  populace  ascribed  their  misfor- 
tunes to  the  unhappy  effect  of  his  councils  ; but 
his  magnanimity  did  not  yet  forsake  him,  and, 
for  the  last  time,  he  addressed  the  assembly : 
“Your  anger,  Athenians!  occasions  no  surprise, 
because  it  comes  not  unexpected.  Your  com- 
plaints excite  no  resentment,  because  to  com- 
plain is  the  right  of  the  miserable.  Yet  as  you 
mistake  both  the  cause  and  the  measure  of 
your  present  calamity,  I will  venture  to  expose 
such  dangerous,  and,  if  not  speedily  corrected, 
such  fatal  errors.  The  justice  and  necessity  of 
the  war  I have  often  had  occasion  to  explain  : 
it  is  just  that  you,  who  have  protected  and 
saved,  should  govern  Greece  ; it  is  necessary, 
if  you  would  assert  your  pre-eminence,  that 
you  should  now  resist  the  Peloponnesian^.  On 
maintaining  this  resolution,  not  your  honour 
only,  but  your  safety,  depends.  The  sovereignty 
of  Greece  cannot,  like  an  empty  pageant  of 
grandeur,  be  taken  up  with  indifference,  or 
without  danger  laid  down.  That  well-earned 
dominion,  which  you  have  sometimes  exercised 
tyrannically,  must  be  upheld  and  defended, 
otherwise  you  must  submit,  without  resource, 
to  the  resentment  of  your  injured  allies,  and 
the  animosity  of  your  inveterate  enemies.  The 
hardships,  to  which  you  were  exposed  from  the 
latter,  I foresaw  and  foretold  ; the  pestilence, 
that  sudden  and  improbable  disaster,  it  was 
impossible  for  human  prudence  to  conjecture  ; 
yet  great  and  unexpected  as  our  calamities 
have  been,  and  continue,  they  are  still  acci- 
dental and  transitory,  while  the  advantages  of 
this  necessary  war  are  permanent,  and  its  glory 
will  be  immortal.  The  greatness  of  that  em- 
pire which  we  strive  to  uphold,  extends  beyond 
the  territories  of  our  most  distant  allies.  Of 
2 B 


the  two  elements,  destined  for  the  use  of  men, 
the  sea  and  the  land,  we  absolutely,  command 
the  one,  nor  is  there  any  kingdom,  or  republic, 
or  confederacy,  that  pretends  to  dispute  our  do- 
minion. Let  this  consideration  elevate  our 
hopes ; and  personal  afflictions  will  disappear 
at  the  view  of  public  prosperity.  Let  us  bear, 
with  resignation,  the  strokes  of  providence  ; 
and  we  shall  repel,  with  vigour,  the  assaults  of 
your  enemies.  It  is  the  hereditary  and  glo- 
rious distinction  of  our  republic,  never  to  yield 
to  adversity.  We  have  defied  danger,  expended 
treasure  and  blood  ; and,  amidst  obstinate  and 
formidable  wars,  augmented  the  power,  and 
extended  the  fame,  of  a city  unrivalled  in  wealth, 
populousness,  and  splendour,  and  governed  by 
laws  and  institutions  worthy  its  magnificence 
and  renown.  If  Athens  must  perish,  (as  what 
human  grandeur  is  not  subject  to  decay?)  let 
her  never  fall,  at  least,  through  our  pusil- 
lanimity ; a fall  that  would  cancel  the  merit  of 
our  former  virtue,  and  destroy  at  once  that 
edifice  of  glory  which  it  has  been  the  work  of 
ages  to  rear.  When  our  walls  and  harbours 
are  no  more  ; when  the  terror  of  our  navy  shall 
have  ceased,  and  our  external  magnificence 
fallen  to  decay,  the  glory  of  Athens  shall  re- 
main. This  is  the  prize  which  I have  hitherto 
exhorted,  and  still  exhort  you  to  defend,  re- 
gardless of  the  clamours  of  sloth,  the  suspicions 
of  cowardice,  or  the  persecution  of  envy.” 
Such  were  the  sentiments  of  Pericles,  who, 
on  this  occasion,  declared  to  his  assembled 
countrymen,  with  the  freedom  of  conscious 
t merit,  that  he  felt  himself  inferior 

Ixxxvii*  4 none  *n  wisd°m  discover,  and 
A C 429*  to  explain  and  promote,  the 

' measures  most  honourable  and  use- 

ful ; that  he  was  a sincere  and  ardent  lover  of 
the  republic,  unbiased  by  the  dictates  of  self- 
ishness, unseduced  by  the  allurements  of  par- 
tiality, and  superior  to  the  temptations  of  ava- 
rice. The  anger  of  the  Athenians  evaporated 
in  imposing  on  him  a small  fine,  and  soon  after 
they  re-elected  him  general.  The  integrity 
and  manly  firmness  of  his  mind  restored  the 
fainting  courage  of  the  republic.  They  rescued 
the  dignity  of  Pericles  from  the  rage  of  popular 
frenzy ; but  they  could  not  defend  his  life 
against,  the  infectious  malignity  of  the  pesti- 
lence. He  died  two  years  and  six  months  after 
the  commencement  of  the  war.  The  character 
which  he  draws  of  himself  is  confirmed  by  the 
impartial  voice  of  history,  which  adds  a few 
circumstances  fitted  to  confirm  the  texture  of 
a virtuous  and  lasting  fame.  During  the  first 
invasion  of  the  Peloponnesians,  he  declared 
that  he  would  convey  his  extensive  and  valua- 
ble estate  to  the  public,  if  it  should  be  excepted 
from  the  general  devastation,  by  the  policy  or 
the  gratitude  of  Archidamus,  his  hereditary 
guest  and  friend.3  Yet  this  generous  patriot 
lived  with  the  most  exemplary  economy  in  his 
personal  and  domestic  expense.  His  death-bed 
was  surrounded  by  his  numerous  admirers, 
who  dwelt  with  complacence  on  the  illustrious 
exploits  of  his  glorious  life.  While  they  re- 
counted the  wisdom  of  his  government,  and 


3 Thueydid.  p.  108. 


194 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


enumerated  the  long  series  of  his  victories  by 
sea  and  land,  “You  forget,”  said  the  dying 
statesman  and  sage,  “you  forget  the  only  valu- 
able part  of  my  character:  none  of  my  fellow 
citizens  were  ever  compelled,  through  any  ac- 
tion of  mine  to  assume  a mourning  robe.”1 
He  expired,  teaching  an  invaluable  lesson  to 
human  kind,  that  in  the  last  important  hour, 
when  all  other  objects  disappear,  or  lose  their 


[Chap, 

value,  the  recollection  of  an  innocent  life  is  still 
present  to  the  mind,  and  still  affords  consola- 
tion more  valuable  than  Pericles  could  derive 
from  his  nine  trophies  erected  over  the  enemies 
of  his  country,  from  his  long  and  prosperous 
administration  of  forty  years,  the  depth  of  his 
political  wisdom,  the  perfection  of  his  military 
and  naval  skill,  and  the  immortal  fame  of  his 
unrivalled  eloquence. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Subsequent  Events  of  the  War — Platcea  taken — Revolt  of  Lesbos — Description  and  History  of  that 
Island — Nature  of  its  political  Connection  with  Athens — Address  of  Lesbos — Its  Capital  besieged 
by  the  Athenians — Measures  of  the  Peloponnesians  for  relieving  it — Mitylene  surrenders De- 

liberations in  Athens  concerning  the  Treatment  of  the  Prisoners — Resettlement  of  the  Affairs 
of  Lesbos^—  The  Corinthians  foment  Factions  in  Corcyra — Sedition  in  that  Island — The  con- 
tending Factions  respectively  supported  by  the  Athenians  and  Peloponnesians — Progress , Ter- 
mination, and  Consequences  of  the  Sedition. 


Olymp. 
lxxxvii.  4. 
A.  C. 
429—425. 


dignity  and  vigour  of  the  republic 
seemed  to  perish  with  Pericles,  and  several 
years  elapsed  scarcely  distinguished  by  any 
event  that  tended  to  vary  the  uniformity,  much 
less  to  decide  the  fortune  of  the  war.  While 
the  Peloponnesians  invaded  Attica,  the  Athe- 
nian fleet  annually  ravaged  the  coast  of  Pelo- 
ponnesus. In  vain  the  inhabitants 
of  that  country,  little  accustomed 
to  the  sea,  collected  ships,  and  used 
their  utmost  endeavours  to  contend 
with  the  experienced  skill  of  the 
Athenian  mariners.  They  were  always  de- 
feated, and  often  by  an  inferior  force;  one 
proof  among  many,  that  naval  superiority  is 
slowly  acquired  and  slowly  lost.  Neither  the 
Athenians  nor  the  Peloponnesians  derived  any 
effectual  assistance  from  their  respective  alli- 
ances with  Sitalces  and  Perdiccas.  The  for- 
mer, reinforced  by  many  independent  tribes  of 
Thrace,  who  were  allured  to  his  standard  by 
the  hopes  of  plunder,  poured  down  a hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  men  on  the  Macedonian 
coast.  But  a hasty  agreement  between  the 
two  kings  dissipated  that  numerous  and  desul- 
tory band  with  the  same  rapidity  with  which 
it  had  been  collected.2 

One  benefit,  indeed,  the  Athenians  received 
from  Sitalces,  if  that  can  be  reckoned  a benefit, 
which  enabled  them  to  commit  an  action  of 
atrocious  cruelty:  he  put  into  their  hands 
Aristaeus,  the  Corinthian,  a bold  and  deter- 
mined enemy  of  their  republic;  and  actually 
travelling  through  Thrace  into  Persia,  to  solicit 
money  from  Artaxerxes  to  support  the  war 
against  them.  Both  Aristaeus  and  his  col- 
leagues in  the  embassy  suffered  a painful  and 
ignominious  death. 

The  success  of  the  adverse  parties 
i a was  equally  balanced  in  the  sieges 

AXCV1429  ^ot^8ea  an(*  Platsea-  The  for- 
* mer,  having  surrendered  on  capitu- 


1  Plut.  in  Pericl. 


2 Thucydid.  p.  167—170. 


lation,  was  occupied  by  new  inhabitants.  The 
expelled  citizens  retired  to  Olynthus  and  other 
places  of  the  Chalcidice,  where  they  strength- 
ened and  exasperated  the  foes  of  Athens.  Pla- 
Olymp.  t8ea  al!°.  caPituJated,  after  a long 
lxxxviii.  2.  an<^  sP^r^e^  resistance  during  five 
A.  C.  427  " years*  Notwithstanding  the  warm 
and  affecting  remonstrances  of  the 
citizens  who  had  acted  such  an  illustrious  part 
in  the  Persian  war,  when  the  Thebans  behaved 
most  disgracefully,  the  capitulation  was  shame- 
fully violated  by  the  Spartans,  who  sacrificed 
to  the  resentment  of  Thebes,  the  eternal  enemy 
of  Plataea,  two  hundred  brave  men,  whose 
courage  and  fidelity  merited  a better  fate.  But 
the  youth  of  Plataea  still  flourished  in  the 
bosom  of  Athens,  and  were  destined,  in  a future 
age,  to  reassume  the  dignity  of  independent 
government,  which  always  formed  the  highest 
ambition  of  their  small  but  magnanimous  com- 
munity. 

Among  the  transactions  of  this  otherwise  un- 
important period,  happened  the  revolt  of  Les- 
bos, and  the  sedition  of  Corcyra.  Both  events 
deeply  aftected  the  interest  of  Athens;  and  the 
former  is  distinguished  by  such  circumstances 
as  serve  to  explain  the  political  condition  of  the 
times,  while  the  latter  exhibits  a striking  but 
gloomy  picture  of  Grecian  manners. 

The  island  of  Lesbos,  extending  above  a 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  in  circumference,  is 
the  largest,  except  Euboea,  in  the  .Egean  sea. 
Originally  planted  by  Eolians,  Lesbos  was  the 
mother  of  many  Eolic  colonies.  They  were 
established  on  the  opposite  continent,  and 
separated  from  their  metropolis  by  a strait 
of  seven  miles,  which  expands  itself  into  the 
gulf  of  Thebe,  and  is  beautifully  diversified  by 
the  Hecatonnesian  and  Arginussian  isles,  of 
old  sacred  to  Apollo.  The  happy  temperature 
of  the  climate  of  Lesbos  conspired  with  the  rich 
fertility  of  the  soil  to  produce  those  delicious 
fruits,  and  those  exquisite  wines,  which  are  still 
acknowledged  by  modern  travellers  to  deserve 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


195 


XVI.] 

the  encomiums  so  liberally  bestowed  on  them 
by  ancient  writers.3  The  convenience  of  its 
harbours  furnished  another  source  of  wealth 
and  advantage  to  this  delightful  island,  which, 
as  early  as  the  age  of  Homer,  was  reckoned 
populous  and  powerful,  and,  like  the  rest  of 
Greece  at  that  time,  governed  by  the  moderate 
jurisdiction  of  hereditary  princes.  The  abuse 
of  royal  power  occasioned  the  dissolution  of 
monarchy  in  Lesbos,  as  well  as  in  the  neigh- 
bouring isles.  The  rival  cities  of  Mitylene, 
and  Methymna  contended  for  republican  pre- 
eminence. The  former  prevailed ; and  having 
reduced  Methymna,  as  well  as  six  cities  of  in- 
ferior note,  began  to  extend  its  dominion  be- 
yond the  narrow  bounds  of  the  island,  and  con- 
quered a considerable  part  of  Troas.  Mean 
while  the  internal  government  of  Mitylene  was 
often  disturbed  by  sedition,  and  sometimes 
usurped  by  tyrants.  The  wise  Pittacus,  con- 
temporary and  rival  of  Solon,  endeavoured  to 
remedy  these  evils  by  giving  his  countrymen  a 
body  of  laws,  comprised  in  six  hundred  verses, 
which  adjusted  their  political  rights,  and  regu- 
lated their  behaviour  and  manners.  The  Les- 
bians afterwards  underwent  those  general  re- 
volutions, to  which  both  the  islands  and  the 
continent  of  Asia  Minor  were  exposed  from  the 
Lydian  and  Persian  power.  Delivered  from 
the  yoke  of  Persia  by  the  successful  valour  of 
Athens  and  Sparta,  the  Lesbians,  as  well  as  all 
the  Greek  settlements  around  them,  spurned  the 
tyrannical  authority  of  Sparta  and  Pausanias, 
and  ranged  themselves  under  the  honourable 
colours  of  Athens,  which  they  thenceforth  con- 
tinued to  respect  in  peace,  and  to  follow  in  war. 

In  the  exercise  of  power  the  Athenians  dis- 
played principles  totally  different  from  those  by 
which  they  had  attained  it.  The  confederacy 
between  Athens  and  Lesbos  was  still  supported, 
however,  by  mutual  fear  rather  than  by  reci- 
procal affection.  During  peace,  the  Lesbians 
dreaded  the  navy  of  Athens ; the  Athenians 
feared  to  lose  the  assistance  of  Lesbos  in  war. 
Besides  this,  the  Athenians  were  of  the  Ionic, 
the  Lesbians  of  the  Eolic,  race ; and  the  latter 
justly  regretted  that  the  allies  of  Athens  should 
be  successively  reduced  to  the  condition  of 
subjects.  They  perceived  the  artful  policy  of 
that  republic  in  allowing  the  Chians  and  Les- 
bians alone  to  retain  the  semblance  of  liberty. 
While  the  Chians  and  Lesbians,  still  free  in 
appearance,  assisted  in  subduing  the  other  con- 
federates of  Athens,  that  ambitious  republic 
was  always  furnished  with  a plausible  justifi- 
cation of  her  general  oppression  and  tyranny  ; 
since  it  was  natural  to  imagine  that  men,  left 
to  the  unrestrained  liberty  of  choice,  should, 
fn  matters  indifferent  to  themselves,  prefer  the 
cause  of  justice  to  that  of  usurpation.  But 
even  the  apparent  freedom  which  the  Lesbians 
enjoyed  had  become  extremely  precarious. 
They  felt  themselves  under  the  disagreeable 
necessity  to  soothe,  to  bribe,  and  to  flatter  the 
Athenian  demagogues,  and  in  all  their  transac- 
tions with  that  imperious  people,  to  testify  the 


3 Mons.  de  Guys,  Tourncfort,  &c.  agree  with  Horace 
(passim)  and  Strabo,  1.  xiii.  p.  584 — 657.  from  which  the 
following  particulars  in  the  text,  concerning  Lesbos,  are 

extracted. 


most  mortifying  deference  and  submission. 
Notwithstanding  their  watchful  attention  never 
designedly  to  offend,  they  were  continually 
endangered  by  the  quarrelsome  humour  of  a 
capricious  multitude,  and  had  reason  to  dread, 
lest,  in  consequence  of  some  unexpected  gust 
of  passion,  they  should  be  compelled  to  de- 
molish their  walls,  and  to  surrender  their  ship- 
ping, the  punishment  already  inflicted  on  such 
of  the  neighbouring  islands  as  had  incurred  the 
displeasure  of  Athens. 

This  uneasy  situation  naturally  disposed  the 
Lesbians,  amidst  the  calamities  of  the  second 
Peloponnesian  invasion,  heightened  by  the 
plague  at  Athens,  to  watch  an  opportunity  to 
revolt.  The  following  year  was  employed  in 
assembling  the  scattered  inhabitants  of  the 
island  within  the  walls  of  Mitylene,  in  strength- 
ening these  walls,  in  fortifying  their  harbours, 
in  augmenting  their  fleet,  and  in  collecting 
troops  and  provisions  from  the  fertile  shores 
ni  of  the  Euxine  sea.  But  in  the 

lxxxvni  1 ^ourtk  year  the  war,  their  de- 

A C 428  * s*gn’  yet  unripe  for  execution,  was 

' * * made  known  to  the  Athenians  by 

the  inhabitants  of  Tenedos,  the  neighbours  and 
enemies  of  Lesbos,  as  well  as  by  the  citizens 
of  Methymna,  the  ancient  rival  of  Mitylene, 
and  by  several  malcontents  in  the  Lesbian  capi- 
tal. Notwithstanding  the  concurrence  of  such 
powerful  testimonies,  the  Athenian  magistrates 
affected  to  disbelieve  intelligence  which  their 
distressed  circumstances  rendered  peculiarly 
alarming.  The  Lesbians,  it  was  said,  could 
never  think  of  forsaking  the  alliance  of  a 
country,  which  had  always  treated  them  with 
such  distinguished  favour,  how  powerfully  so- 
ever they  might  be  urged  to  that  measure  by 
the  Thebans,  their  Eolian  brethren,  and  the 
Spartans,  their  ancient  confederates.  Ambas- 
sadors, however,  were  sent  to  Lesbos,  desiring 
an  explanation  of  rumours  so  dishonourable  to 
the  fidelity  and  gratitude  of  the  island. 

The  ambassadors  having  confirmed  the  re- 
port, Athens  equipped  a fleet  of  forty  sail,  in- 
tending to  attack  the  enemy  by  surprise,  while 
they  celebrated,  with  universal  consent,  the 
anniversary  festival  of  Apollo,  on  the  promon- 
tory of  Malea.  But  this  design  was  rendered 
abortive  by  the  diligence  of  a Mitylenian  tra- 
veller, who,  passing  from  Athens  to  Euboea, 
proceeded  southward  to  Geraistos,  and,  em- 
barking in  a merchant  vessel,  reached  Lesbos 
in  less  than  three  days  from  the  time  that  he 
undertook  this  important  service.  His  seasona- 
ble advice  not  only  prevented  the  Mitylenians 
from  leaving  their  city,  but  prepared  them  to 
appear,  at  the  arrival  of  the  enemy  in  a tolera- 
ble posture  of  defence.  This  state  of  prepara- 
tion enabled  them  to  obtain  from  Clcippidas, 
the  Athenian  admiral,  a suspension  of  hostili- 
ties, until  they  despatched  an  embassy  to 
Athens,  to  remove,  as  they  pretended,  the 
groundless  resentment  of  the  people,  and  to 
give  ample  satisfaction  to  the  magistrates. 

On  the  part  of  the  Lesbians,  this 
lxxxvni  1 ^ransact*on  was  nothihg  more  than 
A C 4^8  * a con^vance  to  &a*n  time.  They 
expected  no  favour  or  forgiveness 
from  the  Athenian  assembly;  and  while  this 


196 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


illusive  negotiation  was  carrying  on  at  Athens, 
other  ambassadors  went  secretly  to  Sparta,  re- 
questing that  the  Lesbians  might  be  admitted 
into  the  Peloponnesian  confederacy,  and  thus 
entitled  to  the  protection  of  that  powerful 
league.  The  Spartans  referred  them  to  the 
general  assembly,  which  was  to  be  soon  held  at 
Olympia,  to  solemnize  the  most  splendid  of  all 
the  Grecian  festivals.  After  the  games  were 
ended,  and  the  Athenians,  who  little  expected 
that  such  matters  were  in  agitation,  had  re- 
turned home,  the  Lesbian  ambassadors  wore 
favourably  heard  in  a general  convention  of  the 
Peloponnesian  representatives  or  deputies,  from 
whom  they  received  assurance  of  immediate 
and  effectual  assistance. 

This  promise,  however,  was  not  punctually 
performed.  The  eyes  of  the  Athenians  were  at 
length  opened ; and  while  the  Peloponnesians 
prepared  or  deliberated,  their  more  active  ene- 
mies had  already  taken  the  field.  Various 
skirmishes,  in  which  the  islanders  showed  little 
vigour  in  their  own  defence,  engaged  the 
neighbouring  states  of  Lemnos  and  Imbros  to 
send,  on  the  first  summons,  considerable  sup- 
plies of  troops  to  their  Athenian  confederates ; 
but  as  the  combined  forces  were  still  insufficient 
completely  to  invest  Mitylene,  a powerful  rein- 
forcement was  sent  from  Athens ; and  before 
the  beginning  of  winter,  the  place  was  blocked 
up  by  land,  while  an  Athenian  fleet  occupied 
the  harbour. 

The  unfavourable  season,  and  still  more,  that 
dilatoriness  which  so  often  obstructed  the  mea- 
sures of  the  confederates,  prevented  timely  aid 
from  arriving  at  Mitylene.  But  in  order  to 
make  a diversion  in  favour  of  their  new  allies, 
the  Peloponnesians  assembled  a considerable 
armament  at  the  isthmus,  intending  to  convey 
their  ships  over  land  from  Corinth  to  the  sea 
of  Athens,  that  they  might  thus  infest  the  Athe- 
nian shores  with  their  fleet,  while  the  army 
carried  on  its  usual  ravages  in  the  central  parts 
of  Attica.  The  activity  of  the  Athenians  de- 
feated this  design.  Notwithstanding  their  nu- 
merous squadrons  on  the  coasts  of  Pelopon- 
nesus, Thrace,  and  Lesbos,  they  immediately 
fitted  out  a hundred  sail  to  defend  their  own 
shores.  The  Peloponnesian  sailors,  who  had 
been  hastily  collected  from  the  maritime  towns, 
soon  became  disgusted  with  an  expedition, 
attended  with  unforeseen  difficulties ; and,  as 
autumn  advanced,  the  militia  from  the  inland 
country  grew  impatient  to  return  to  their  fields 
and  vineyards.  During  winter,  the  Mitylenians 
were  still  disappointed  in  their  hope  of  relief. 
They  were  encouraged,  however,  to  persevere 
in  resistance,  by  the  arrival  of  Salaethus,  a 
Spartan  general  of  considerable  merit,  who 
having  landed  in  an  obscure  harbour  of  the 
island,  travelled  by  land  towards  Mitylene ; 
and,  during  the  obscurity  of  night,  passed  the 
Athenian  wall  of  circumvallation,  by  favour 
of  a breach  made  by  a torrent.  Salaethus  gave 
the  besieged  fresh  assurances  that  a powerful 
fleet  would  be  sent  to  their  assistance  early  in 
the  spring;  and  that,  at  the  same  time,  the 
Athenians  should  be  harassed  by  an  invasion 
more  terrible  and  destructive  than  any  which 
they  had  yet  experienced. 


[Chap. 

The  latter  part  of  the  promise 
lxxxvxii  2 WaS  indeed  Performed.  The  Pelo- 
4 C 427^*  Ponnesians  invaded  Attica.  What 
ever  had  been  spared  in  former  in- 
cursions, now  fell  a prey  to  their  fury.  But 
after  the  spring  was  considerably  advanced, 
the  long-expected  fleet  was  looked  for  in  vain. 
The  same  procrastination  and  difficulties  still 
retarded  the  preparations  of  the  confederates ; 
and  when  at  length  forty  sail  were  collected, 
the  command  was  bestowed  on  the  Spartan 
Alcidas,  a man  totally  devoid  of  that  spirit  and 
judgment  essential  to  the  character  of  a naval 
commander.  Instead  of  sailing  directly  to  the 
relief  of  Mitylene,  he  wasted  much  precious 
time  in  pursuing  the  Athenian  merchantmen, 
in  harassing  the  unfortified  islands,  and  in 
alarming  the  defenceless  and  unwarlike  in- 
habitants of  Ionia,  who  could  scarcely  recover 
from  their  astonishment,  at  seeing  a Pelopon- 
nesian fleet  in  those  seas.  Many  trading  ves- 
sels, that  sailed  between  the  numerous  islands 
and  harbours  on  that  extensive  coast,  fell  into 
the  hands  of  Alcidas ; for  when  they  descried 
his  squadron,  they  attempted  not  to  avoid  it ; 
many  fearlessly  approached  it,  as  certainly 
Athenian.  In  consequence  of  this  imprudence, 
Alcidas  took  a great  number  of  prisoners, 
whom  he  butchered  in  cold  blood  at  Myonesus. 
OlvmD  This  barbarity  only  disgraced 

lxxxviii  2 himself,  and  injured  the  Spartan 
A C ^27  * cause  in  Asia,  many  cities  of  which 
~~  * were  previously  ripe  for  revolt. 
Before  he  attempted  to  accomplish  the  main 
object  of  his  expedition,  the  opportunity  was 
for  ever  lost  by  the  surrender  of  Mitylene. 
Despair  of  assistance,  and  scarcity  of  provi- 
sions, had  obliged  Salaethus,  who  began  him- 
self by  this  time  to  suspect  that  the  Pelopon- 
nesians had  laid  aside  all  thoughts  of  succour- 
ing the  place,  to  arm1  the  populace,  in  order  to 
make  a vigorous  assault  on  the  Athenian  lines. 
But  the  lower  ranks  of  men,  who  in  Lesbos, 
as  well  as  in  all  the  Grecian  isles,  naturally  fa- 
voured the  cause  of  Athens,  the  avowed  patron 
of  democracy,  no  sooner  received  their  armour, 
than  they  refused  obeying  their  superiors,  and 
threatened,  that  unless  the  corn  were  speedily 
brought  to  the  market-place,  and  equally  di- 
vided among  all  the  citizens,  they  would  in- 
stantly submit  to  the  besiegers.  The  aristo- 
cratical  party  prudently  yielded  to  the  torrent 
of  popular  fury,  which  they  had  not  strength 
to  resist;  and  justly  apprehensive,  lest  a more 
obstinate  defence  might  totally  exclude  them 
from  the  benefit  of  capitulation,  they  surren- 
dered to  Paches,  the  Athenian  commander,  on 
condition  that  none  of  the  prisoners  should  be 
enslaved  or  put  to  death,  until  their  agents, 
who  were  immediately  sent  to  implore  the 
clemency  of  Athens,  should  return  with  the 
sentence  of  that  republic. 

The  terms  were  accepts  and  ratified;  but 
such  were  the  furious  resentments  which  pre- 
vailed in  that  age,  such  the  dark  suspicions, 
and  such  the  total  disregard  to  all  laws  of  jus- 
tice and  humanity,  that  the  Athenian  army  had 

1 He  gave  the  populace,  who  were  before  light  armed, 
heavy  armour.  Tbucydid.  p.  188.  English  cannot  imitalo 
his  expression:  03-x»£t*  tov  Si j/kov  rr^sxrgov  ovt*. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


197 


XVI.] 

no  sooner  taken  possession  of  the  place,  than 
the  chief  authors  and  abettors  of  the  revolt, 
judging  it  imprudent  to  trust  their  safety  to 
the  faith  of  treaties,  and  the  sanctity  of  oaths, 
flew  for  protection  to  their  tdmples  and  altars. 
This  unseasonable  diffidence  (for  Paches  ap- 
pears to  have  united  uncommon  humanity  with 
a daring  spirit,  and  great  military  abilities)  dis- 
covered conscious  guilt,  and  enabled  the  Athe- 
nians to  distinguish  between  their  friends  and 
enemies.  The  latter  were  protected  by  Paches, 
and  prevailed  on  to  withdraw  from  their  sanc- 
tuaries. He  afterwards  sent  them  to  the  isle 
of  Tenedos,  until  their  fate,  as  well  as  that  of 
their  fellow  citizens,  should  be  finally  deter- 
mined by  the  Athenian  republic. 

Immediately  after  the  arrival  of  the  Mityle- 
nian  ambassadors,  the  people  of  Athens  had 
assembled  to  deliberate  on  this  important  sub- 
ject. Agitated  by  the  giddy  transports  of  tri- 
umph over  the  rebellious  ingratitude  and  per- 
fidy of  a people,  who,  though  distinguished  by 
peculiar  favours,  had  abandoned  and  betrayed 
their  protectors  in  the  season  of  danger,  the 
Athenians  doomed  to  death  all  the  Mitylenian 
citizens,  and  condemned  the  women  and  chil- 
dren to  perpetual  servitude.  In  one  day  the 
bill  was  proposed,  the  decree  passed,  and  the 
same  evening  a galley  was  despatched  to 
Paches,  conveying  this  cruel  and  bloody  reso- 
lution. But  the  night  left  room  for  reflection; 
and  the  feelings  of  humanity  were  awakened 
by  the  stings  of  remorse.  In  the  morning, 
having  assembled,  as  usual,  in  the  public  square, 
men  were  surprised  and  pleased  to  find  the 
sentiments  of  their  neighbours  exactly  corres- 
ponding with  their  own.  Their  dejected  coun- 
tenances met  each  other;  they  lamented,  with 
one  accordj  the  rashness  and  ferocity  of  their 
passion,  and  bewailed  the  unhappy  fate  of  Mi- 
tylene,  the  destined  object  of  their  misguided 
frenzy.  The  Mitylenian  ambassadors  availed 
themselves  of  this  sudden  change  of  sentiment; 
a new  assembly  was  convened,  and  the  ques- 
tion submitted  to  a second  deliberation. 

A turbulent  impetuous  eloquence  had  raised 
the  audacious  profligacy  of  Cleon,  from  the 
lowest  rank  of  life,  to  a high  degree  of  au- 
thority in  the  Athenian  assembly.  The  multi- 
tude were  deceived  by  his  artifices,  and  pleased 
with  his  frontless  impudence,  which  they  called 
boldness,  and  manly  openness  of  character. 
His  manners  they  approved  in  proportion  as 
they  resembled  their  own ; and  the  worst  of 
his  vices  found  advocates  among  the  dupes  of 
his  pretended  patriotism.  This  violent  dema- 
gogue, whose  arrogant2  presumption  so  unwor- 
thily succeeded  the  enlightened  magnanimity 
of  Pericles,  had,  in  the  former  assembly,  pro- 
posed and  carried  the  sanguinary  decree  against 
Mitylend.  He  still  persevered  in  supporting  that 
atrocious  measure,  and  upbraided  the  weak  and 
wavering  counsels  of  his  countrymen,  liable  to 
be  shaken  by  every  gust  of  passion,  and  totally 


2 The  character  of  Cleon,  sketched  in  miniature  by  Thu- 
cydides, pp.  193  and  266.  is  painted  at  full  length  by  Aristo- 
phanes, in  his  comedy  of  the  Ijra-si?,  “The  Horseman.” 
Yet  we  could  not  safely  trust  the  description  of  the  angry 
satirist,  who  bore  a personal  grudge  to  Cleon,  unless  the 
principal  strokes  were  justified  by  the  impartial  narrative 
of  Thucydides. 


incapable  of  that  stability  essential  in  the  man- 
agement of  great  affairs,  and  particularly  in- 
dispensable in  the  government  of  distant  de- 
pendencies. » 

“ Such  a temper  of  mind  (he  had  often  ven- 
tured to  declare,  and  would  repeat  the  same 
disagreeable  truth  as  often  as  their  folly  obliged 
him)  was  alike  unworthy,  and  incapable,  of 
command.  That  a democracy  was  unfit  for 
sovereign  rule,  past  experience  convinced  him, 
and  the  present  instance  now  confirmed  his 
opinion.  The  empire  of  Athens  could  not  be 
maintained  without  an  undivided  attachment, 
an  unalterable  adherence,  to  the  interest  and 
honour  of  the  republic.  But  the  masters  of 
Greece  were  the  slaves  of  their  own  capricious 
passions ; excited  at  will  by  the  perfidious 
voice  of  venal  speakers,  bribed  to  betray  them. 
Lulled  to  a fatal  repose  by  the  softness  of  me- 
lodious words,  they  forgot  the  dignity  of  the 
state,  and  restrained  their  personal  resentment 
against  multiplied  and  unprovoked  injuries. 
What  was  still  more  dangerous,  they  invited, 
by  an  ill-judged  lenity,  the  imitation  and  con- 
tinuance of  such  crimes  as  must  terminate  in 
public  disgrace  and  inevitable  ruin.  What  else 
can  be  expected  from  pardoning  the  aggravated 
guilt  of  Mitylene?  Encouraged  by  this  weak- 
ness, must  not  the  neighbouring  cities  and 
islands,  whose  resources  form  the  principal 
vigour  of  the  republic,  greedily  seize  the  first 
opportunity  of  shaking  off  the  yoke,  which 
they  have  long  reluctantly  borne ; and  follow 
the  example  of  a revolt,  which,  without  pre- 
senting them  with  the  fear  of  danger,  promised 
them  the  hope  of  deliverance  ?” 

This  sanguinary  speech  was  answered  by 
Deodatus,  a man  endowed  with  an  amiable 
moderation  of  character,  joined  to  a profound 
knowledge  of  government,  and  a deep  insight 
into  human  nature.  In  the  former  assembly, 
this  respectable  orator  had  ventured,  almost 
single  and  alone,  to  plead  the  cause  of  the 
Mitylenians,  and  to  assert  the  rights  of  hu- 
manity. He  observed,  “ that  assemblies  were 
liable  to  be  misled  by  the  fury  of  resentment, 
as  well  as  by  the  weakness  of  compassion  ; and 
that  errors  of  the  former  kind  were  often  at- 
tended by  consequences  not  less  destructive, 
and  always  followed  by  a far  more  bitter  re- 
pentance. Against  vague  slanders  and  calumny 
no  man  is  secure;  but  a true  patriot  must  learn 
to  despise  such  unmanly  reproaches.  Un- 
daunted by  opposition,  he  will  offer  good  coun- 
sel, to  which  there  are  no  greater  enemies  than 
haste  and  anger.  For  my  part,  I stand  up 
neither  to  defend  the  Mitylenians,  nor  to  waste 
time  in  fruitless  accusations.  They  have  in- 
jured us  most  outrageously,  yet  I would  not 
advise  you  to  butcher  them,  unless  that  can  be 
proved  expedient ; neither,  were  they  objects 
of  forgiveness,  would  I advise  you  to  pardon 
them,3  unless  that  were  conducive  to  the  pub- 
lic interest,  the  only  point  on  which  our  pre- 
sent deliberation  turns.  Guided  by  vulgar 
prejudices,  Cleon  has  loudly  asserted,  that  the 
destruction  of  the  Mitylenians  is  necessary  to 


3 This  it?  speaking  like  an  orator.  It  will  appear  in  the 
sequel,  that  Deodatus  by  no  means  considered  the  inno- 
cence or  guilt  of  the  Mitylenians  as  things  indifferent. 


198 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


deter  neighbouring  cities  from  rebellion.  But 
distant  subjects  must  be  kept  in  obedience  by 
the  mildness  of  discretionary  caution,  not  by 
the  rigour  o£ sanguinary  examples.  What  peo- 
ple were  ever  so  mad  as  to  revolt,  without  ex- 
pecting, either  through  their  domestic  strength, 
or  the  assistance  of  foreign  powers,  to  make 
good  their  pretensions  ? Men  who  have  known 
liberty,  how  sweet  it  is,  ought  not  t*o  be  punished 
too  severely  for  aspiring  at  that  inestimable  en- 
joyment. But  their  growing  disaffection  must 
be  watched  with  care,  and  anticipated  by  dili- 
gence ; they  must  be  prevented  from  taking 
the  first  steps  towards  emancipation ; and 
taught,  if  possible,  to  regard  it  as  a thing  alto- 
gether unattainable. 

“ Yet  such  is  the  nature  of  man,  considered 
either  individually  or  collectively,  that  a law 
of  infallible  prevention  will  never  be  enacted. 
Of  all  crimes  that  any  reasonable  creature  can 
commit,  Desire  is  the  forerunner,  and  Hope  the 
attendant.  These  invisible  principles  within, 
are  too  powerful  for  all  external  terrors  ; nor 
has  the  increasing  severity  of  laws  rendered 
crimes  less  frequent  in  latter  times,  than  during 
the  mildness  of  the  heroic  ages,  when  few 
punishments  were  capital.  While  human  na- 
ture remains  the  same,  weakness  will  be  dis- 
trustful, necessity  will  be  daring,  poverty  will 
excite  injustice,  power  will  urge  to  rapacity, 
misery  will  sink  into  meanness,  and  prosperity 
swell  into  presumption.  There  are  other  con- 
tingencies, which  stir  up  the  mutiny  of  pas- 
sions, too  stubborn  for  control.  The  authority 
of  government  can  neither  change  the  combi- 
nation of  events,  nor  interrupt  the  occasions  of 
fortune.  Impelled  by  such  causes,  the  selfish 
desires  of  men  will  hurry  them  into  wickedness 
and  vice,  whatever  penalties  await  them.  The 
imagination  becomes  familiar  with  one  degree 
of  punishment,  as  well  as  with  another ; and, 
in  every  degree,  hope  renders  it  alike  ineffectual 
and  impotent ; since  neither  individuals  nor 
communities  would  be  guilty  of  injustice,  if 
they  believed  that  it  must  infallibly  subject 
them  to  punishment,  small  or  great.  When 
individuals  commit  crimes,  they  always  expect 
to  elude  the  vengeance  of  law.  When  com- 
munities rebel,  they  expect  to  render  their  re- 
volt not  the  occasion  of  triumph  to  their  ene- 
mies, but  the  means  of  their  own  deliverance 
and  security. 

“ The  severe  punishment  of  Mitylend  cannot, 
therefore,  produce  the  good  consequences  with 
which  Cleon  has  flattered  you.  But  this  cruel 
measure  will  be  attended  with  irreparable  pre- 
judice to  your  interest.  It  will  estrange  the 
affections  of  your  allies ; provoke  the  resent- 
ment of  Greece;  excite  the  indignation  of  man- 
kind ; and,  instead  of  preventing  rebellion, 
render  it  more  frequent  and  more  dangerous. 
When  all  hopes  of  success  have  vanished,  your 
rebellious  subjects  will  never  be  persuaded  to 
return  to  their  duty.  They  will  seek  death  in 
the  field  rather  than  await  it  from  the  hand  of 
the  executioner.  Though  reduced  to  the  last 
extremity,  they  will  spurn  submission,  and 
gathering  courage  from  despair,  either  repel 
your  assaults,  or  fall  a useless  prey,  weak  and 
exhausted,  incapable  of  indemnifying  you  for 


[Chap. 

the  expense  of  the  war,  or  of  raising  those  sub- 
sidies and  contributions,  which  rendered  their 
subjugation  a reasonable  object  either  of  inte- 
rest or  ambition. 

“ The  revolt  of  Mitylene  was  the  work  of 
an  aristocratical  faction,  fomented  by  the  Lace- 
daemonians and  Thebans.  The  great  body  of 
the  people  were  no  sooner  provided  with  arms, 
than  they  discovered  their  affection  for  Athens. 
It  would  be  most  cruel  and  most  ungrateful,  to 
confound  the  innocent  with  the  guilty,  to  in- 
volve friends  and  foes  in  undistinguished  ruin. 
Yet  this  odious  measure  would  show  more 
weakness  than  cruelty,  more  folly  than.injus 
tice.  What  advantage  could  the  enemies  of 
Athens  more  earnestly  desire  ? What  boon 
could  the  aristocratical  factions,  so  profusely 
scattered  over  Greece,  more  anxiously  requesl 
from  Heaven  ? Furnished  with  your  sangui 
nary  decree  against  Mitylene,  they  might  for 
ever  alienate  from  the  republic  the  affections 
of  her  subjects  and  confederates  ; for  having 
once  seduced  them  to  revolt,  they  might  unan- 
swerably convince  them,  that  safety  could  only 
be  purchased  by  persevering  in  rebellion,  and 
that  to  return  to  duty  was  to  submit  to  death.” 

The  moderation  and  good  sense  of  Deodatus 
(such  was  the  influence  of  Cleon)  were  ap- 
proved only  by  a small  majority  of  voices.  Yet 
it  remained  uncertain,  whether  this  late  and  re- 
luctant repentance  would  avail  the  Mitylenians, 
who,  before  any  advice  of  it  arrived,  might  be 
condemned  and  executed  in  consequence  of  the 
former  decree.  A galley  was  instantly  fur- 
nished with  every  thing  that  might  promote 
expedition.  The  Mitylenian  deputies  promised 
invaluable  rewards  to  the  rowers.  But  the 
fate  of  a numerous  and  lately  flourishing  com- 
munity, still  depended  on  the  uncertainty  of 
winds  and  currents.  The  first  advice-boat  had 
sailed,  as  the  messenger  of  bad  news,  with  a 
slow  and  melancholy  progress.  The  second 
advanced  with  the  rapid  movement  of  joy.  Not 
an  adverse  blast  opposed  her  course.  The  ne- 
cessity of  food  and  sleep  never  restrained  a mo- 
ment the  labour  of  the  oar  ; and  her  diligence 
was  rewarded  by  reaching  Lesbos  in  time  to 
check  the  cruel  hand  of  the  executioner. 

The  bloody  sentence  had  been  just  read,  even 
the  orders  had  been  issued  for  its  execution, 
when  the  critical  arrival  of  the  Athenian  galley 
converted  the  lamentable  outcries,  or  gloomy 
despair  of  a whole  republic,  into  expressions  of 
admiration  and  gratitude, 
p..  The  punishment,  however,  of 

lxxxviii  2 Mitylene  was  still  sufficiently  se- 
AX<3  X427  vere’  even  according  to  the  rigor- 
ous maxims  of  Grecian  policy.  The 
prisoners,  who  had  been  sent  to  Tenedos,  were 
transported  to  Athens.  They  exceeded  a thou- 
sand in  number,  and  were  indiscriminately  con- 
demned to  death.  Saleethus,  the  Spartan  gene- 
ral, shared  the  same  fate,  after  descending  to 
many  mean  contrivances  to  save  his  life.  The 
walls  of  Mitylene  were  demolished,  its  shipping 
was  sent  to  Athens,  and  its  territory  divided 
into  three  thousand  portions,  of  which  three 
hundred  were  consecrated  to  the  gods,  and  the 
rest  distributed  by  lot  among  the  people  of 
Athens.  The  Lesbians  were  still  allowed  to 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


199 


XVI.] 

cultivate,  as  tenants,  their  own  fields,  paying 
for  each  share  an  annual  rent  of  about  six 
pounds  nine  shillings  sterling.1 

The  activity  and  judgment  of  Paches  thus 
effected  an  important  conquest  to  his  country. 
Though  the  affairs  of  Lesbos  might  have  re- 
quired his  undivided  attention,  he  no  sooner 
was  apprised  of  the  appearance  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesian fleet,  than  he  immediately  put  to  sea, 
protected  the  allies  of  Athens,  and  chased  the 
enemy  from  those  shores.  During  the  whole 
time  of  his  command,  he  behaved  with  firmness 
tempered  by  humanity.  But,  at  his  return  to 
Athens,  he  met  with  the  usual  reward  of  supe- 
rior merit.  He  was  accused  of  misconduct ; 
and  finding  sentence  ready  to  be  pronounced 
against  him,  his  indignation  rose  so  high,  that 
he  slew  himself  in  court.2 

The  Spartan  admiral,  Alcidas,  met,  on  the 
other  hand,  with  a reception  (such  is  the  blind- 
ness of  popular  prejudice !)  far  better  than  his 
behaviour  deserved.  The  Peloponnesian  fleet 
of  forty  sail,  imprudently  intrusted  to  his  com- 
mand, retired  ingloriously,  after  a most  expen- 
sive and  fruitless  expedition,  to  the  protection 
of  their  friendly  harbours.  A northerly  wind, 
however,  drove  them  on  the  shores  of  Crete ; 
from  whence  they  dropped  in  successively  to 
the  port  of  Cyllene,  which  had  recovered  the 
disaster  inflicted  on  it  by  the  Corcyreans  at 
the  beginning  of  the  war,  and  became  the  ordi- 
nary rendezvous  of  the  Peloponnesian  fleet.  In 
this  place,  Alcidas  found  thirteen  galleys,  com- 
manded by  Brasidas,  a Spartan  of  distinguished 
valour  and  abilities,  purposely  chosen  to  assist 
the  admiral  with  his  counsels.  This  small 
squadron  had  orders  to  join  the  principal  ar- 
mament ; with  which  the  confederates,  as  their 
design  had  miscarried  at  Lesbos,  purposed  to 
undertake  an  expedition  to  Corcyra,  then  agi- 
tated by  the  tumult  of  a most  dangerous  se- 
dition. 

Among  the  hostilities  already  related  between 
the  republics  of  Corinth  and  Corcyra,  we  de- 
scribed the  enterprises  by  which  the  Corin- 
thians took  above  twelve  hundred  Corcyrean 
prisoners.  Many  of  these  persons  were  de- 
scended from  the  first  families  in  the  island  ; 
a circumstance  on  which  the  policy  of  Corinth 
founded  an  extensive  plan  of  artifice  and  ambi- 
tion. The  Corcyreans,  instead  of  feeling  the 
rigours  of  captivity,  or  experiencing  the  stern 
severity  of  republican  resentment,  were  treated 
with  the  liberal  and  endearing  kindness  of  Gre- 
cian hospitality.  Having  acquired  their  confi- 
dence by  good  offices,  the  Corinthians  insinuated 
to  them,  in  the  unguarded  hours  of  convivial 
merriment,  the  danger  as  well  as  the  disgrace 
of  their  connection  with  Athens,  the  universal 
tyrant  of  her  allies ; and  represented  their 
shameful  ingratitude  in  deserting  Corinth,  to 
which  the  colony  of  Corcyra  owed  not  only  its 
early  happiness  and  prosperity,  but  its  original 
establishment  and  existence.  These  arguments, 
seasonably  repeated,  and  urged  with  much  ad- 
dress, at  length  proved  effectual.  The  Corcy- 
reans recovered  their  freedom,  and  returned  to 


their  native  country  ; and  while  they  pretended 
to  be  collecting  the  sum  of  eight  hundred 
talents  (about  a hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
pounds  sterling)  to  pay  their  ransom,  they  left 
nothing  untried  to  detach  Corcyra  from  the 
Athenian  interest. 

Their  first  expedient  for  accomplishing  this 
purpose  was,  to  traduce  the  popular  leaders, 
who  were  the  most  steadfast  partizans  of  that 
republic.  Accusations,  impeachments,  all  the 
artifices  and  chicane  of  legal  persecution,  were 
directed  and  played  off  against  them.  The 
demagogues,  who  were  not  of  a temper  to 
brook  such  injuries,  retorted  on  their  antago- 
nists with  equal  ingenuity,  and  far  superior 
success.  Peithias,  the  most  distinguished  advo- 
cate of  the  Athenian  or  democratical  party, 
accused  five  ringleaders  of  the  opposite  faction 
of  having  destroyed  the  fence  which  inclosed  the 
grove  of  Jupiter ; a trespass  estimated  by  the 
Corcyrean  law  at  a severe  pecuniary  punish- 
ment.3 In  vain  the  persons  accused  denied 
the  charge  ; in  vain,  after  conviction  before  the 
senate,  they  fled  as  supplicants  to  the  altars. 
They  could  obtain  no  mitigation  of  the  amerce- 
ment. The  demagogue  was  inflexible  ; and 
his  influence  with  his  colleagues  in  the  senate, 
of  which  he  happened  that  year  to  be  a mem- 
ber, determined  them  to  execute  the  law  in  its 
utmost  rigour. 

Exasperated  by  this  severity,  and  not  doubt- 
ing that  during  the  administration  of  the  pre- 
sent senate,  many  similar  prosecutions  would 
be  raised  against  them,  the  aristocratical  party 
entered  into  a conspiracy  for  defending  them- 
selves and  their  country  against  the  oppressive 
injustice  of  Athens  and  Athenian  partizans. 
On  this  emergency  they  acted  like  men  who 
knew  the  danger  of  delay.  Having  fortified 
their  cause  with  a sufficient  number  of  adhe- 
rents, they  armed  themselves  with  concealed 
daggers,  suddenly  rushed  into  the  senate-house, 
and  assassinated  Peithias,  with  sixty  of  his 
friends.  This  boldness  struck  their  opponents 
with  terror.  Such  persons  as  felt  themselves 
most  obnoxious  to  the  conspirators,  immediately 
fled  to  the  harbour,  embarked,  and  sailed  to 
Athens. 

The  people  of  Corcyra,  thus  deprived  of  their 
leaders  by  an  event  equally  unex- 
g pected  and  atrocious,  were  seized 
^X5,V1^’ ^ ’ with  such  astonishment  as  suspend- 

' ' * ed  their  power  of  action.  Before 

they  had  sufficiently  recovered  themselves  to 
take  the  proper  measures  for  revenge,  or  even 
for  defence,  the  arrival  of  a Corinthian  vessel, 
and  a Lacedaemonian  embassy,  encouraged 
their  opponents  to  attempt  their  destruction. 
The  attack  was  made  at  the  hour  of  full  as- 
sembly; the  forum,  or  public  square,  presented 
a scene  of  horror;  the  streets  of  Corcyra 
streamed  with  blood.  The  unguarded  citizens 
were  incapable  of  making  resistance  against 
such  sudden  and  unforeseen  fury.  They  fled  in 
trepidation  from  the  forum,  and  the  more  spa- 


3 The  fine  was,  for  every  pale  a stater  (one  pound  and 
nine  penre  sterling.)  Such  causes  were  frequent  in  other 
parts  of  Greece,  as  we  learn  from  the  oration  of  Lysias  in 
defence  of  a citizen  accused  of  cutting  down  a consecrated 
olive.  See  the  translation  of  Lysias  and  Isocrates,  p.  377 


1 Thucydid.  p.  173 — 206. 

2 Plutarch,  in  Nicia,  et  in  Aristid. 


200 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


clous  streets.  Some  took  possession  of  the  ci- 
tadel; others  of  the  Hillsean  .harbour;  and  in 
general  occupied,  before  evening,  the  higher  and 
more  remote  parts  of  the  town.  Their  adversa- 
ries kept  possession  of  the  market-place,  around 
which  most  of  their  houses  stood,  or  assembled 
in  the  principal  harbour,  that  points  towards 
Epirus,  from  which  they  expected  succour.  The 
day  following  was  spent  in  doubtful  skirmishes, 
and  in  summoning  from  the  country  the  as- 
sistance of  the  peasants,  or  rather  slaves,  by 
whom  chiefly  the  lands  of  the  island  were  cul- 
tivated. These  naturally  ranged  themselves  on 
the  side  of  the  people:  the  Corcyrean  women 
zealously  embraced  the  same  party,  and  sus- 
tained the  tumult  with  more  than  female  cou- 
rage. One  inactive  day  intervened.  The  par- 
tizans  of  aristocracy  were  reinforced  by  eight 
hundred  auxiliaries  from  the  continent  of  Epi- 
rus. But  in  the  succeeding  engagement,  the 
numbers  and  fury  of  the  slaves,  who  seized  the 
present  opportunity  to  resent  the  barbarous  cru- 
elty of  their  respective  masters,  and  the  gene- 
rous ardour  of  the  women,  rendered  the  friends 
of  liberty  completely  victorious.  The  van- 
quished fled  towards  the  forum  and  the  greater 
harbour.  Even  these  posts  they  soon  despaired 
of  being  able  to  maintain;  and,  to  escape  im- 
mediate death,  set  fire  to  the  surrounding 
houses,  which  being  soon  thrown  into  a blaze, 
presented  an  impervious  obstacle  to  the  rage  of 
the  assailants.  The  most  beautiful  part  of 
Corcyra  was  thus  destroyed  in  one  night ; the 
houses,  shops,  magazines,  and  much  valuable 
merchandize,  were  totally  consumed  ; and  had 
an  easterly  wind  aided  the  conflagration,  the 
whole  city  must  in  a short  time  have  been  re- 
duced to  ashes.  Amidst  this  scene  of  confu- 
sion and  horror,  the  Corinthian  galley,  together 
with  the  auxiliaries  from  Epirus,  retired  in  con- 
sternation from  a place  that  seemed  doomed  to 
inevitable  destruction. 

Next  day  twelve  Athenian  galleys  arrived 
from  Naupactus,  containing,  besides  their  ordi- 
nary complement  of  men,  five  hundred  heavy- 
armed Messenians.  Nicostratus,  who  com- 
manded this  armament,  had*  upon  the  first  in- 
telligence of  the  sedition,  hastened  with  the 
utmost  celerity  to  .support  the  cause  of  Athens 
and  democracy.  He  had  the  good  fortune  not 
only  to  anticipate  the  Peloponnesian  squadron, 
which  was  so  anxiously  expected  by  the  enemy, 
but  to  find  his  friends  triumphant.  They  had 
obtained,  however,  a melancholy  triumph  over 
the  splendour  of  their  country,  which,  if  its  fac- 
tions were  not  speedily  reconciled,  was  threat- 
ened with  total  ruin.  Nicostratus  omitted 
nothing  that  seemed  proper  to  heal  the  wounds 
of  that  afflicted  commonwealth.  By  authority, 
entreaties,  and  commands,  he  persuaded  the 
contending  parties  to  accommodate  matters  be- 
tween themselves,  and  to  renew  their  alliance 
with  Athens.  Having  happily  terminated  this 
business,  he  was  intent  on  immediate  depar- 
ture ; but  the  managers  for  the  people  proposed, 
that  he  should  leave  five  of  his  ships  with  them, 
to  deter  the  enemy  from  any  fresh  commotion, 
and  take  in  exchange  five  of  theirs,  which 
should  be  instantly  manned  to  attend  him  on  his 
station.  With  this  proposal  he  complied ; and 


[Chap. 

the  Corcyreans selected  the  mariners  destined  to 
sail  with  Nicostratus.  Those  named  for  this 
service  wTere,  to  a man,  partisans  of  the  oli- 
garchy and  Lacedaemon  : a circumstance  which 
created  in  them  just  alarm,  lest  they  should  be 
transported  to  Athens,  and  notwithstanding  the 
faith  of  treaties,  condemned  to  death.  They 
took  refuge  in  the  temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux  : 
the  assurances  of  Nicostratus  could  scarcely  re- 
move them  from  this  sanctuary ; and  all  his  de- 
clarations and  oaths  were  incapable  to  prevail  on 
them  to  embark.  The  opposite  party  asserted, 
that  this  want  of  confidence  betrayed  not  only 
the  consciousness  of  past,  but  the  fixed  purpose 
of  future,  guilt ; and  would  have  immediately 
despatched  them  with  their  daggers,  had  not 
Nicostratus  interposed.  Terrified  at  these  pro- 
ceedings, the  unhappy  victims  of  popular  malice 
and  suspicion  assembled,  to  the  number  of  four 
hundred,  and  retired  with  one  accord,  as  suppli- 
cants, to  the  temple  of  Juno.  From  this  sanctu- 
ary they  were  persuaded  to  arise,  and  were 
transported  to  a neighbouring  island,  or  rather 
rock,  small,  barren,  and  uninhabited.  There 
they  remained  four  days,  supplied  barely  with 
the  means  of  subsistence,  and  impatiently  wait- 
ing their  fate. 

In  this  posture  of  affairs  a numerous  fleet  was 
seen  approaching  from  the  south.  This  was  the 
long-expected  squadron  of  fifty-three  ships  com- 
manded by  Alcidas  and  Brasidas.  With  the 
unfortunate  slowness  inherent  in  all  the  mea- 
sures of  the  confederacy,  this  armament  arrived 
too  late  to  support  the  ruined  cause  of  their 
friends.  The  Peloponnesian  commanders,  how- 
ever, might  still  expect  to  take  a useless  but 
agreeable  vengeance  on  their  enemies.  To  ac- 
complish this  design  they  prepared  to  attack  the 
harbour  of  Corcyra,  while  all  was  hurry  and 
confusion.  The  islanders  had  sixty  vessels  fit 
for  sea,  in  which  they  embarked  with  the  ut- 
most expedition,  and  successively  sailed  forth 
as  each  happened  to  be  ready.  Their  ardour 
and  impatience  disdained  the  judicious  advice 
of  Nicostratus,  who  alone,  calm  and  unmoved 
amidst  a scene  of  unexpected  danger,  exhorted 
them  to  keep  the  harbour  until  they  were  all 
prepared  to  advance  in  line  of  battle,  gene- 
rously offering,  with  his  twelve  Athenian  gal 
leys,  to  sustain  the  first  assaults  of  the  enemy. 

The  Peloponnesians,  observing  the  hostile  ar 
mament  scattered  and  unsupported,  divided 
their  own  fleet  into  two  squadrons.  The  one, 
consisting  of  twenty  galleys,  attacked  the  Corcy- 
reans; the  other,  amounting  to  thirty -three,  en- 
deavoured to  surround  the  Athenians.  But  the 
address  of  the  Athenian  ^mariners  frustrated 
this  attempt.  Their  front  was  extended  with 
equal  order  and  celerity.  They  assaulted,  at 
once,  the  opposite  wings  of  the  Peloponnesian 
fleet,  intercepted  their  motion,  and  skilfully  en- 
circled them  around,  hoping  to  drive  their  ships 
against  each  other,  and  to  throw  them  into  uni- 
versal disorder.  Perceiving  these  manoeuvres, 
the  ships  which  followed  the  Corcyreans  left  off 
the  pursuit,  and  steered  to  support  the  main 
squadron : and  now,  with  their  whole  embodied 
strength,  they  prepared  to  pour  on  the  Athe- 
nians. These  prudently  declined  the  shock  of  su- 
perior force : but  the  glory  of  their  retreat  wm 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


201 


XVI.] 

equal  to  a victory.  They  seasonably  shifted 
their  helms,  slowly  and  regularly  gave  way,  and 
thus  recovered  the  retreat  of  their  Corcyrean 
allies,  who,  having  already  lost  thirteen  vessels, 
were  totally  unable  to  renew  the  engagement. 

Having  reached  the  harbour,  the  Corcyreans 
still  feared  lest  the  enemy,  in  pursuance  of  their 
victory,  should  make  a descent  on  the  coast,  and 
even  assault  the  city.  But  the  manly  counsels 
of  Brasidas,  who  strongly  recommended  the  lat- 
ter measure,  were  defeated  by  the  timidity  and 
incapacity  of  Alcidas.  The  Corcyreans  seized, 
therefore,  the  present  opportunity  to  remove  the 
supplicants  from  the  uninhabited  island  to  the 
temple  of  Juno,  as  less  exposed  there,  to  be  dis- 
covered and  taken  up  by  the  Peloponnesian 
fleet.  Next  day  they  entered  into  accommoda- 
tion with  these  unhappy  men,  and  even  ad- 
mitted several  of  them  to  embark  in  thirty  ves- 
sels, which  they  hastily  equipped,  as  the  last 
defence  of  the  island.  The  Peloponnesians, 
mean  while,  still  prevented,  by  the  dastardly 
counsels  of  Alcidas,  from  attacking  the  capital, 
wreaked  their  resentment  on  the  adjacent  ter- 
ritory. But  before  the  dawn  of  the  succeeding 
day,  they  were  alarmed  by  lights  on  the  north- 
ern shore  of  Leucadia,  which,  by  their  number 
and  disposition,  signified  the  approach  of  an 
Athenian  fleet  of  sixty  sail. 

The  situation  of  the  invaders  was  now  ex- 
tremely dangerous.  If  they  stretched  out  to  sea, 
they  might  be  obliged  to  encounter  the  unbroken 
vigour  of  the  Athenians ; if  they  cruised  off  the 
coast,  they  would  be  compelled  to  contend,  not 
only  with  the  pofver  of  Athens,  but  with  the 
resentment  of  Corcyra.  One  measure  alone 
promised  the  hope  of  safety:  it  was  immediately 
adopted.  Having  crept  along  the  shore  to  Leu- 
cadia, they  carried  their  vessels  across  the  isth- 
mus,1 2 afterwards  buried  in  the  sea,  but  which 
then  joined  the  peninsula,  now  the  island  of 
Lcucas,  to  the  adjacent  coast  of  Acarnania. 
From  thence  sailing  through  the  narrow  seas, 
which  separate  the  neighbouring  isles  from  the 
continent,  they  escaped  without  discovery,  and 
safely  arrived  in  the  harbour  of  Cyllene. 

The  democratical  party  in  Corcyra  soon  per- 
ceived the  flight  of  the  enemy,  and  descried  the 
approach  of  the  Athenian  fleet,  commanded  by 
Eurymedon.  These  fortunate  events,  which 
ought  in  generous  minds  to  have  effaced  the 
dark  impressions  of  enmity  and  revenge,  only 
enabled  the  Corcyreans  to  display  the  deep  ma- 
lignity of  their  character.  They  commanded 
ne  thirty  galleys,  recently  manned,  to  pass  in 
•eview,  and  in  proportion  as  they  discovered 
heir  enemies,  punished  them  with  immediate 
death.  Fifty  of  the  principal  citizens,  who  still 
clung  to  the  altars  in  the  temple  of  Juno,  they 
seduced  from  their  asylum,  and  instantly  butch- 
ered. 

Politics  and  party  formed  the  pretence  for 
violence,  while  individuals  gratified  theirprivate 
passions,  and  wreaked  vengeance  on  their  per- 
sonal foes.  The  sedition  became  every  hour 
more  fierce:  the  confusion  thickened;  the  whole 
city  was  filled  with  consternation  and  horror. 


1 D’Anville  considers  the  ancient  Leucadia  as  an  island; 
Ptolemy  speaks  of  it  as  a peninsula. 

2 C 


The  altars  and  images  of  the  gods  were  sur- 
rounded by  votaries,  whom  even  the  terrors  of 
a superstitious  age  could  no  longer  protect.  The 
miserable  victims  were  dragged  from  the  most 
revered  temples,  whose  walls  and  pavement 
were  now  first  stained  with  civil  blood.  Many 
withdrew  themselves  by  a voluntary  death  from 
the  fury  of  their  enemies.  In  every  house,  and 
in  every  family,  scenes  were  transacted  too  hor- 
rid for  description.  Parents,  children,  brothers, 
and  pretended  friends,  seized  the  desired  mo- 
ment for  gratifying  their  latent  malignity,  and 
perpetrating  crimes  without  a name.  The  un- 
feeling Eurymedon  (whose  character,  as  will 
shortly  appear,  was  a disgrace  to  human  nature) 
showed  neither  ability  nor  inclination  to  stop 
the  carnage.  During  the  space  of  six  days  that 
his  fleet  continued  in  the  Corcyrean  harbour, 
the  actors  in  this  lamentable  tragedy  continually 
aggravated  the  enormity  of  their  guilt,  and  im- 
proved in  the  refinement  of  their  cruelty.  A 
dreadful  calm  succeeded  this  violent  agitation. 
Five  hundred  partisans  of  aristocracy  escaped 
to  the  coast  of  Epirus;  and  the  Athenian  fleet 
retired. 

The  fugitives,  instead  of  rejoicing  in  their 
safety,  thought  only  of  revenge.  They  sent 
agents  to  Lacedaemon  and  Corinth.  By  describ- 
ing their  sufferings  to  the  astonished  Epirots, 
they  excited  their  compassion,  and  acquired  their 
assistance.  The  severity  of  the  prevailing  party 
in  Corcyra  increased  the  number  of  outlaws ; 
who,  at  length,  finding  themselves  sufficiently 
powerful  to  attack  and  conquer  the  island, 
which,  from  the  moment  of  their  banishment, 
they  had  infested  by  naval  descents,  sailed  with 
their  whole  strength  for  that  purpose  in  boats 
provided  by  the  Barbarians.  In  landing  at 
Corcyra,  the  rowers  drove  with  such  violence 
against  the  shore,  as  broke  many  of  their  vessels 
in  pieces;  the  rest  they  immediately  burned, 
disdaining  safety  unless  purchased  by  victory. 
This  desperate  measure  deterred  opposition: 
they  advanced,  seized,  and  fortified,  mount 
Istone;  a strong  post  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  city,  from  which  they  ravaged  the  territory, 
and  subjected  their  enemies  to  the  multiplied 
evils  of  war  and  famine. 

Olymp  ^"n  epidemical  disorder  increased 

lxxxviii.  4.  the  measure  of  their  calamities. 
A.  C 425*  ^ie  ^ames  C1V11  discord,  which 
J'  had  never  been  thoroughly  extin- 
guished, again  broke  out  within  the  walls. 
The  misery  of  the  Corcyreans  was  verging  to 
despair,  when  an  Athenian  fleet  of  forty  sail 
appeared  off  the  coast.  This  armament  was 
commanded  by  Eurymedon  and  Sophocles.  It 
was  principally  destined  against  Sicily,  as  we 
shall  l|,pve  occasion  to  relate,  but  ordered  in  its 
voyage  thitherto  touch  at  Corcyra,  and  regulate 
the  affairs  of  that  island.  This  unexpected  as- 
sistance enabled  the  besieged  to  become  the  be- 
siegers. The  outworks  and  defences  of  Mount 
Istond  were  successively  taken,  the  parties  who 
defended  them  gradually  retiring  to  the  more 
elevated  branches,  and,  at  length,  to  the  very 
summit,  of  the  mountain.  They  were  on  the 
point  of  being  driven  from  thence,  and  of  falling 
into  the  hands  of  enemies  exasperated  by  innu- 
merable injuries  suffered  and  inflicted.  Alarm- 


202 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


ed  by  this  reflection,  they  called  out  to  the  Athe- 
nians for  quarter,  and  surrendered  to  Euryme- 
don  and  Sophocles,  on  condition  that  their  fate 
should  be  decided  by  the  people  of  Athens. 
They  were  sent  prisoners  to  the  small  island  of 
Ptychia,  till  it  should  be  found  convenient  to 
transport  them  to  Athens,  and  commanded  not 
to  make  any  attempt  to  stir  from  thence  under 
pain  of  annulling  the  capitulation  which  had 
been  granted  them- 

If  the  malignity  of  the  Corcyrean  populace 
had  not  exceeded  the  ordinary  standard  of  hu- 
man pravity,  their  resentment  must  have  been 
softened  by  the  sudden  transition  wrought  by 
accident  in  their  favour.  But  their  first  concern 
was  to  intercept  the  precarious  clemency  of 
Athens,  and  to  assure  the  destruction  of  their 
adversaries.  This  atrocious  design  wTas  exe- 
cuted by  a stratagem  equally  detestable,  uniting, 
by  a singular  combination,  whatever  is  savage 
in  ferocity,  and  base  in  perfidy.  By  means  of 
proper  agents  despatched  secretly  to  Ptychia, 
the  leaders  of  the  popular  faction  acquainted 
those  of  the  prisoners,  with  whom,  in  peaceable 
times,  they  had  respectively  lived  in  some  ha- 
bits of  intimacy,  that  the  Athenians  had  deter- 
mined to  give  them  up  indiscriminately  to  the 
fury  of  the  populace.  Pretending  much  regret 
that  persons  in  whom  they  once  had  so  tender 
a concern,  should  share  the  common  calamity, 
they  exhorted  them,  by  all  possible  means,  to 
contrive  their  escape,  and  offered  to  provide 
them  with  a bark  for  that  purpose.  The  known 
cruelty  of  Eurymedon  made  the  artifice  suc- 
ceed. The  bark  was  already  launched  from 
the  island  ; the  terms  of  the  capitulation  were 
thus  infringed ; the  deluded  victims  were  ap- 
prehended in  the  very  act  of  departure,  seized, 
bound,  and  delivered  into  the  hands  of  their  in- 
exorable enemies. 

The  Athenian  commanders,  Eurymedon  and 
Sophocles,  favoured  the  deceit,  because,  as  they 
were  themselves  obliged  to  proceed  towards 
Sicily,  they  envied  the  honour  that  would  ac- 
crue to  their  successors  in  conducting  the  cap- 
tives to  Athens.  To  gratify  this  meanness  of 
soul  without  example,  they  permitted  barbari- 
ties beyond  belief. 

The  unhappy  prisoners  were  first  confined  in 
a dungeon.  Dragged  successively  from  thence, 
in  parties  of  twenty  at  a time,  they  were  com- 
pelled to  pass  in  pairs,  their  hands  tied  behind 
their  backs,  between  two  ranks  of  their  ene- 
mies, armed  with  whips,  prongs,  and  every  in- 
strument of  licentious  and  disgraceful  torture. 
The  wretches  left  in  prison  were  long  ignorant 
of  the  ignominious  cruelty  inflicted  on  their 
companions  : but,  as  soon  as  they  learned  the 
abominable  scenes  transacted  without,  they  re- 
fused to  quit  their  confinement,  guarded  the  en- 
trance, and  invited,  with  one  consent,  the  Athe- 
nians to  murder  them.  But  the  Athenians  want- 
ed either  humanity  or  firmness  to  commit  this 
kind  cruelty.  The  Corcyrean  populace  ven- 
tured not  to  force  a passage  from  despair.  They 
mounted  the  prison  walls,  uncovered  the  roof, 
and  overwhelmed  those  below  with  stones, 
darts,  and  arrows.  These  weapons  were  de- 
structive to  many,  and  furnished  others  with 
the  means  of  destroying  themselves,  or  each 


fCllAP. 

other.  They  laid  down  their  heads,  opened 
their  breasts,  exposed  their  necks,  mutually  so- 
liciting, in  plaintive  or  frantic  accents,  the  fatal 
stroke.  The  whole  night  (for  the  night  inter- 
vened) was  spent  in  this  horrid  scene  ; and  the 
morning  presented  a spectacle  too  shocking  for 
description.  The  obdurate  hearts  of  the  Cor- 
cyreans  were  incapable  of  pity  or  remorse ; 
but  their  relenting  eyes  could  not  bear  the 
sight ; and  they  commanded  the  bodies  of  their 
fellow  citizens,  now  breathless  or  expiring,  to 
be  thrown  on  carts,  and  conveyed  without  the 
walls. 

Thus  ended  the  sedition  of  Corcyra;1  but  its 
consequences  were  not  soon  to  end.  The  conta- 
gion of  that  unhappy  island  engendered  a po- 
litical malady,  which  spread  its  baneful  in- 
fluence over  Greece.  The  aristocratical,  and 
still  more,  the  popular  governments  of  that 
country,  had  ever  been  liable  to  faction,  which 
occasionally  blazed  into  sedition.  But  this  mor- 
bid tendency,  congenial  to  the  constitution  of 
republics,  thenceforth  assumed  a more  danger- 
ous appearance,  and  betrayed  more  alarming 
symptoms.  In  every  republic,  and  almost  in 
every  city,  the  intriguing  and  ambitious  found 
the  ready  protection  of  Athens,  or  of  Sparta, 
according  as  their  selfish  and  guilty  designs 
were  screened  under  the  pretence  of  maintain- 
ing the  prerogatives  of  the  nobles,  or  asserting 
the  privileges  of  the  people.  A virtuous  and  mo- 
derate aristocracy,  an  equal,  impartial  freedom, 
these  were  the  colourings  which  served  to  jus- 
tify violence  and  varnish  guilt.  Sheltered  by 
the  specious  coverings  of  fair  names,  the  prodi- 
gal assassin  delivered  himself  from  the  impor- 
tunity of  his  creditor.  The  father,  with  unna- 
tural cruelty,  punished  the  licentious  extrava- 
gance of  his  son  : the  son  avenged,  by  parricide, 
the  stern  severity  of  his  father.  The  debates 
of  the  public  assembly  were  decided  by  the 
sword.  Not  satisfied  with  victory,  men  thirsted 
for  blood.  This  general  disorder  overwhelmed 
laws,  human  and  divine.  The  ordinary  course 
of  events  was  reversed  : sentiments  lost  their 
natural  force,  and  words  their  usual  mean- 
ing.2 Dulness  and  stupidity  triumphed  over 
abilities  and  refinement ; for  while  the  crafty 
and  ingenious  were  laying  fine-spun  snares  for 
their  enemies,  men  of  blunter  minds  had  im- 
mediate recourse  to  the  sword  and  poniard. 
This  successful  audacity  was  termed  manly 
enterprise  ; ferocity  assumed  the  name  of  cour- 
age ; faction  and  ambition  passed  for  patriotism 
and  magnanimity ; perfidy  was  called  pru- 
dence ; cunning,  wisdom ; every  vice  was 
clothed  in  the  garb  of  every  virtue;  while  jus- 
tice, moderation,  and  candour  were  branded  as 
weakness,  cowardice,  meanness  of  soul,  and  in- 
difference to  the  public  interest.  Such  was  the 
perversion  of  sentiment,  and  such  the  corrup- 
tion of  language,  first  engendered  amidst  the 
turbulence  of  Grecian  factions,  and  too  faith- 
fully imitated,  as  far  as  the  soft  effeminacy  of 
modern  manners  will  permit,  by  the  discon- 
tented and  seditious  of  later  times — Wretched 
and  detestable  delusions,  by  which  wicked  men 
deceive  and  ruin  the  public  and  themselves. 


1 Thucydid  p 220 — 285. 


2 Ibid.  p.  227,  ct  scq. 


XVII.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


203 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


Physical  Calamities  conspire  with  the  Evils  of  War — Athenian  Expedition  into  JElolia — Victories 
of  Demosthenes — He  fortifies  Pybus — Blocks  up  the  Spartans  in  Sphacteria — The  Spartans 
solicit  Peace — Artifices  and  Imprudence  of  Cleon — His  unmerited  Success — Ridiculed  by  Aris- 
tophanes— Athenian  Conquests — Battle  of  Delium — Commotions  in  Thrace — Expedition  of 
Brasidas — Truce  fora  Year — The  War  renewed — Battle  of  Amphipolis — Peace  tf  Nicias — 
Dissatisfaction  of  the  Spartan  Allies. 


TT  would  be  agreeable  to  diversify  the  dark 
and  melancholy  scenes  of  the  Peloponnesian 
war,  by  introducing  occurrences 

Ix^rxviii  2 an(*  transac^ons  a different  and 
A C 497  * more  pleasin?  kind.  But  such,  un- 
~ ' fortunately,  is  the  settled  gloom  of 
our  present  subject,  that  the  episodes  com- 
monly reflect  the  same  colour  with  the  princi- 
pal action.  The  miserable  period  now  under 
our  review,  and  already  distinguished  by  re- 
volt and  sedition,  was  still  farther  deforjned  by 
a return  of  the  pestilence,  and  by  innumerable 
earthquakes.  The  disease  carried  off  five 
thousand  Athenian  troops,  and  a great  but  un- 
certain number  of  other  citizens.  It  raged, 
during  a twelvemonth,  with  unabating  vio- 
lence ; many  remedies  were  employed,  but  all 
equally  ineffectual.  The  poison  at  length 
spent  its  force,  and  the  malady  disappeared  by 
a slow  and  insensible  progress,  similar  to  that 
observed  in  the  Levant,  and  other  parts  of  the 
world,  which  are  still  liable  to  be  visited  by  this 
dreadful  calamity.3  The  earthquakes  alarmed 
Attica  and  Bceotia,  but  proved  most  destructive 
in  the  neighbouring  isles.  The  dreadful  con- 
cussions of  the  land  were  accompanied,  or  per- 
haps produced,  by  a violent  agitation  of  the 
sea.  The  reflux  of  the  waves  overwhelmed 
the  flourishing  city  of  Orobia,  on  the  western 
coast  of  Euboea.  Similar  disasters  happened 
n,  in  the  small  islands  of  Atalanta 

. ymP:  and  Perperathus.  Nor  did  these 

• alarming  events  terminate  the  af- 
flictions of  the  Greeks  ; for  Nature, 
as  if  she  had  delighted  to  produce  at  one  period 
every  thing  most  awful,  poured  forth  a torrent 
of  fire  from  Mount  Etna,  which  demolished  the 
industrious  labours  of  the  Cataneans.  A dread- 
ful eruption  had  happened  fifty  years  before 
this  period;  and  the  present  was  the  third,  and 
most  memorable,  by  which  Sicily  had  been 
agitated  and  inflamed,  since  the  coasts  of  that 
island  were  adorned  by  Grecian  colonies,4 
If  the  Peloponnesian  war  had  not  been  car- 
ried on  with  an  animosity  unknown  to  the 
mildness  of  modern  times,  the  long  sufferings 
Oivmn  ^ie  conte»ding  parties  would 

lxx-xvni  4 ^ave  disposed  them  eagerly  to  de- 
A C 425  * s*re  ^ie  blcssin£s  tranquillity. 

But  such  virulent  passions  rankled 
in  Athens  and  Sparta,  that  while  calamities 
were  equally  balanced,  and  thje  capitals  of  both 
republics  were  secure,  no  combination  of  ad- 
verse circumstances  seemed  sufficient  to  deter- 
mine either  side  to  purchase  peace  by  the 
smallest  diminution  of  honour.  Yet  to  this 

3 Voyage  de  Tourncforl,  vol.  ii.  Discourse  on  Uie 
Plague,  in  the  Phil.  Trans,  vol.  lxiv. 

4 Thucydid.  p.  250. 


necessity,  Sparta  in  the  following  year  was 
reduced  by  a train  of  events,  equally  sudden 
and  .singular.  Demosthenes,  a general  of  merit 
and  enterprise,  commanded  the  Athenian 
forces  at  Naupactus.  This  town,  as  related 
above,  had  been  bestowed  on  the  unfortunate 
Messenians;  by  whose  assistance,  together 
with  that  of  the  Athenian  allies  in  Acarnania, 
Cephallenia,  and  Zacynthus,  Demosthenes  un- 
dertook to  reduce  the  hostile  provinces  of  iEto- 
lia,  Ambracia,  and  Leucadia.  But  the  opera- 
tions necessary  for  this  purpose  were  obstructed 
by  the  jealousies  and  dissensions  which  pre- 
vailed among  the  confederates;  each  state  in- 
sisting, that  the  whole  force  of  the  war  should 
be  immediately  directed  against  its  particular 
enemies. 

The  allied  army,  thus  distracted  by  contra- 
riety, and  weakened  by  defection,  performed 
nothing,  decisive  against  Leucadia  or  Ambra- 
cia. In  iEtolia  they  were  extremely  unfortu- 
nate. The  Messenians,  who  were  continually 
harassed  by  the  natives  of  that  barbarous  pro- 
vince, persuaded  Demosthenes  that  it  would 
be  easy  to  overrun  their  country,  before  the 
inhabitants,  who  lived  in  scattered  villages, 
widely  separated  from  each  other,  could  collect 
their  force,  or  attempt  resistance.  In  pursu- 
ance of  this  advice,  Demosthenes  entered  iEto- 
lia  took  and  plundered  the  towns,  and  drove  the 
inhabitants  before  him.  During  several  days 
he  marched  unresisted ; but  having  proceeded 
to  iEgitium,  the  principal,  or  rather  only  city 
in  the  province,  he  found  that  his  design  had 
by  no  means  escaped  the  notice  of  the  enemy. 
iEgitium  is  situate  among  lofty  mountains, 
and  about  ten  miles  distant  from  the  Corin- 
thian gulf.  Among  these  intricate,  and  almost 
inaccessible  heights  the  flower  of  the  iEtolian 
nation  were  posted.  Even  the  most  distant 
tribes  had  come  up,  before  the  confederate 
army  entered  their  borders. 

iEgitium  was  stormed  ; but  the  inhabitants 
escaped  to  their  countrymen  concealed  among 
the  mountains.  While  the  Athenians  and  their 
allies  pursued  them,  the  iEtolians  rushed,  in 
separate  bodies,  from  different  eminences,  and 
checked  the  pursuers  with  their  darts  and  jave- 
lins. Having  discharged  their  missile  weapons, 
they  retired,  being  light-armed,  and  incapable 
to  resist  the  impression  of  pikemen.  New  de- 
tachments continually  poured  forth  from  the 
mountains,  and  in  all  directions  annoyed  the 
confederates.  The  latter  lost  no  ground,  as 
long  as  their  archers  had  darts,  and  were  ablo 
to  use  them.  But  when  the  greatest  part  of 
their  light  troops  were  wounded  or  slain,  the 
heavy-armed  men  began  to  give  way.  They 
still,  however,  maintained  their  order;  and  the 


204 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


battle  long  continued,  in  alternate  pursuits  and 
retreats,  the  iElolians  always  flying  before  the 
enemy  as  soon  as  they  had  discharged  their 
javelins.  But  at  length  the  confederates  were 
exhausted  by  so  many  repeated  charges,  and 
totally  'defeated  by  opponents  who  durst  not 
wait  their  approach. 

Their  conductors  through  this  intricate  coun- 
try had  all  perished.  They  mistook  their  road 
to  the  sea.  The  enemy  were  light-arinfed,  and 
in  their  own  territories.  The  pursuit,  there- 
fore, was  unusually  destructive.  Many  fell  into 
caverns,  or  tumbled  headlong  from  precipices. 
A large  party  wandered  into  an  impervious 
wood,  which  being  set  on  fire  by  the  enemy, 
consumed  them  in  its  flames.  A miserable 
remnant  returned  to  Naupactus,  afflicted  by  the 
loss  of  their  companions,  and  highly  mortified 
at  being  defeated  by  Barbarians,  alike  ignorant 
of  the  rules  of  war,  and  of  the  laws  of  civil  so- 
ciety, who  spoke  an  unknown  dialect,  and  fed 
on  raw  flesh.1 

This  disaster  deterred  Demosthenes  from  re- 
turning to  Athens,  till  fortune  gave  him  an  op- 
portunity to  retrieve  the  honour  of  his  arms. 
The  iEtolians  and  Ambraciots,  the  most  formi- 
dable enemies  of  the  republic  on  that  western 
coast  of  Greece,  solicited  and  obtained  assist- 
ance from  Lacedaemon  and  Corinth,  vigorously 
attacked  the  towns  of  Naupactus  and  Amphilo- 
chian  Argos,  and  threatened  to  reduce  the  whole 
province  of  Acarnania,  in  which  the  latter  was 
situated.  The  vigilance  and  activity  of  Demos- 
thenes not  only  saved  these  important  cities, 
but  obtained  the  most  signal  advantages  over 
the  assailants.  With  profound  military  skill  he 
divided  the  strength  of  the  enemy,  and,  by  a 
well-conducted  stratagem,  totally  defeated  the 
Ambraciots  among  the  heights  of  Idomene.  A 
strong  detachment  of  that  brave  nation  had  ad- 
vanced the  preceding  day  to  Olpae,  a place  for- 
tified by  the  Acarnanians,  and  the  seat  of  their 
courts  of  justice.  Demosthenes  obliged  them  to 
retreat  with  considerable  loss,  and  intercepted 
their  return  homeward.  Mean  while  the  col- 
lected force  of  the  Ambraciots  marched  to  sup- 
port their  detachment,  with  whose  misfortunes 
they  were  totally  unacquainted.  Apprised  of 
this  design,  Demosthenes  beset  the  passes, 
and  seized  the  most  advantageous  posts  on  their 
route.  With  the  remainder  of  his  force  he  ad- 
vanced to  attack  them  in  front.  They  had 
already  proceeded  to  Idomene,  and  encamped 
on  the  lowest  ridge  of  that  mountain.2 

Demosthenes  placed  his  Messenians  in  the 
van,  and  commanded  them,  as  they  marched 
along,  to  discourse  in  their  Doric  dialect.  This 
circumstance,  as  the  morning  was  yet  in  its 
dawn,  effectually  prevented  the  advanced  guards 
from  suspecting  them  to  be  enemies.  Demos- 
thenes then  rushed  forward  with  the  Messenians 
and  Acarnanians.  The  Ambraciots  were  yet 
in  their  beds.  The  camp  was  no  sooner  as- 
saulted, than  the  rout  began.  Many  were  slain 
on  the  spot;  the  rest  fled  amain;  but  the  passes 
were  beset,  and  the  pursuers  light-armed.  Some 
ran  to  the  sea,  and  beheld  a new  object  of  ter- 


ror, in  some  Athenian  ships  then  cruising  on 
the  coast.  In  this  complication  of  calamities, 
they  plunged  into  the  water,  and  swam  to  the 
hostile  squadron,  choosing  rather  to  be  destroyed 
by  the  Athenians,  than  by  the  enemies  from 
whom  they  had  escaped. 

On  the  following  day,  the  victors,  who  re- 
mained at  Idomene,  stripping  the  dead,  and 
erecting  a trophy,  were  addressed  by  a herald 
sent  on  the  part  of  the  detachment  who  had  so 
much  suffered  in  its  retreat  from  Olpae.  This 
herald  knew  nothing  of  the  fresh  disaster  that 
had  befallen  his  countrymen.  Observing  the 
arms  of  the  Ambraciots,  he  was  astonished  at 
their  number.  The  victors  perceiving  his  sur- 
prise, asked  him,  before  he  explained  his  com- 
mission, “ What  he  judged  to  be  the  amount  of 
the  slain?”  “Not  more  than  two  hundred,” 
replied  the  herald.  The  demander  then  said, 
“ It  should  seem  otherwise,  for  there  are  the 
arms  of  more  than  a thousand  men.”  The  he- 
rald rejoined,  “ They  can  iot  then  belong  to  our 
party.”  The  other  replied,  “ They  must,  if 
you  fought  yesterday  at  Idomene.”  “ We 
fought  no  where  yesterday;  we  suffered  the 
day  before,  in  our  retreat  from  Olpae.”  “ But 
we  fought  yesterday  against  these  Ambraciots, 
who  were  marching  to  your  relief.”  When  the 
herald  heard  this,  he  burst  into  a groan,  and 
went  abruptly  off,  without  farther  explaining 
his  commission.3 

Olvmo  These  important  successes  ena- 

lxxxviii  4 Demosthenes  to  return  with 

A C 425*  honour  to  Athens.  The  term  of 
~ ’ his  military  command  had  expired ; 
but  his  mind  could  not  brook  inactivity.  He 
therefore  solicited  permission  to  accompany,  as 
a volunteer,  the  armament  which  sailed  to 
Corcyra,  the  success  of  which  has  already  been 
related,  with  leave  to  employ  the  Messenians, 
whom  he  carried  along  with  him,  on  the  coast 
of  Peloponnesus,  should  any  opportunity  occur 
there,  for  promoting  the  public  service.  While 
the  fleet  slowly  coasted  along  the  southern 
shores  of  that  peninsula, the  Messenians  viewed, 
with  mingled  joy  and  sorrow,  the  long  lost,  but 
still  beloved,  seats  of  their  ancestors.  They 
regretted,  in  particular,  the  decay  of  ancient 
Pylus,  the  royal  residence  of  their  admired 
Nestor,  whose  youth  had  been  adorned  by  va- 
lour, and  his  age  renowned  for  wisdom.  Their 
immortal  resentment  against  Sparta  was  in- 
flamed by  beholding  the  ruins  of  Messene.  A 
thousand  ideas  and  sentiments,  which  time  had 
obliterated,  revived  at  the  sight  of  their  native 
shores. 

When  the  tumult  of  their  emotions  subsided, 
they  explained  their  feelings  to  Demosthenes, 
and  to  each  other.  He  suggested,  or  at  least 
warmly  approved,  the  design  of  landing,  and 
rebuilding  Pylus,  which  had  been  abandoned 
by  the  Spartans,  though  it  enjoyed  a conve- 
nient harbour,  and  was  strongly  fortified  by 
nature.  Demosthenes  proposed  this  measure 
to  Eurymedon  and  Sophocles,  who  answered 
him  with  the  insolence  congenial  to  their  cha- 
racter, “ That  there  were  many  barren  capes 
on  the  coast  of  Peloponnesus,  which  those  might 


1 Thucydid.  p.  237,  et  scq. 

2 Ibid.  p.  244,  et  scq. 


3 Thucydid.  p.  244,  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


205 


XVII.] 

fortify  who  wished  to  entail  a useless  expense 
on  their  country.”  He  next  applied  to  the 
several  captains  of  the  fleet,  and  even  to  the 
inferior  officers,  but  without  better  success, 
although  he  assured  them  that  the  place 
abounded  in  wood  and  stone,  with  which  a 
wall  sufficient  for  defence,  might  speedily  be 
completed.  He  had  desisted  from  farther  en- 
treaties, when  a fortunate  storm  drove  the 
whole  fleet  towards  the  Pylian  harbour.  This 
circumstance  enabled  him  to  renew  his  instances 
with  greater  force,  alleging  that  the  events  of 
fortune  confirmed  the  expediency  of  the  under- 
taking. At  length  the  sailors  and  soldiers, 
weary  of  idleness  (for  the  weather  prevented 
them  from  putting  to  sea,)  began  the  work  of 
their  own  accord,  and  carried  it  on  with  such 
vigour  and  activity,  that  in  six  days  the  place 
was  strongly  -fortified  on  every  side.4  The 
Athenian  fleet  then  proceeded  to  Corcyra,  De- 
mosthenes retaining  only  five  ships  to  guard 
this  new  acquisition. 

The  Spartans  were  no  sooner  apprised  of 
this  daring  measure,  than  they  withdrew  their 
army  from  its  annual  incursion  into  Attica,  and 
recalled  their  fleet  from  Corcyra.  The  citizens, 
residing  at  home,  immediately  flew  to  arms, 
and  marched  towards  Pylus,  which  was  only 
fifty  miles  distant  from  their  capital.  They 
found  the  new  fortress  so  well  prepared  for  de- 
fence, that  nothing  could  be  undertaken  against 
it  with  any  prospect  of  success,  until  their 
whole  forces  had  assembled.  This  occasioned 
a short  delay;  after  which  Pylus  was  vigor- 
ously assaulted  by  sea  and  land.  The  walls 
were  weakest  towards  the  harbour ; the  en- 
trance of  which,  however,  was  so  narrow,  that 
only  two  ships  could  sail  into  it  abreast.  Here 
the  attack  was  most  furious,  and  the  resistance 
most  obstinate. 

Demosthenes  encouraged  his  troops  by  his 
voice  and  arm.  The  gallant  Brasidas,  a man 
destined  to  act  such  an  illustrious  part  in  the 
following  scenes  of  the  war,  called  out  to  the 
Lacedaemonian  pilots  to  drive  against  the 
beach  ; and  exhorted  them,  by  the  destruction 
of  their  ships,  to  save  the  honour  of  their  coun- 
try. He  farther  recommended  this  boldness  by 
his  example,  but,  in  performing  it,  received  a 
wound  which  rendered  him  insensible.  His 
body  dropped  into  the  sea,  seemingly  deprived 
of  life,  but  was  recovered  by  the  affectionate 
zeal  of  his  attendants.  When  his  senses  re- 
turned, he  perceived  the  loss  of  his  shield,  a 
matter  highly  punishable  by  the  Spartan  laws, 
if  the  shield  of  Brasidas  had  not  been  lost  with 
more  glory  than  ever  shield  was  defended.5 

During  three  days,  Demosthenes,  with  very 
unequal  strength,  resisted  the  enemy  ; when 
the  approach  of  the  Athenian  fleet  from  Cor- 
cyra, which  he  had  apprised  of  his  danger, 
terminated  the  incredible  labours  of  his  ex- 
hausted garrison.  A naval  engagement  ensued, 
in  which  the  Lacedaemonians  were  defeated. 
But  neither  this  defeat,  nor  the  loss  of  five 
ships,  nor  the  total  dispersion  of  their  fleet,  nor 
the  unexpected  relief  of  Pylus,  gave  them  so 


4 Thucydid.  p.  256,  et  sen. 

5 Ibid.  p.  758. 


much  uneasiness,  as  an  event  principally  occa- 
sioned by  their  own  imprudence.  The  island 
of  Sphacteria,  scarce  two  miles  in  circum- 
ference, barren,  woody,  and  uninhabited,  lies 
before  the  harbour  of  Pylus.  In  this  island  the 
Spartans  had  posted  four  hundred  and  twenty 
heavy-armed  men,  with  a much  greater  pro- 
portion of  Helots,  not  reflecting  that  the  Athe- 
nians, as  soon  as  they  had  resumed  the  command 
of  the  neighbouring  sea,  must  have  these  forces 
at  their  devotion.  This  circumstance  occurred 
not  to  the  Spartans  till  after  their  defeat ; and 
then  affected  them  the  more  deeply,  because 
the  troops  blocked  up  in  the  island  belonged  to 
the  first  families  of  the  republic. 

Advice  of  this  misfortune  was  immediately 
sent  to  the  capital.  The  annual  magistrates, 
attended  by  a deputation  of  the  senate,  has- 
tened to  examine  matters  on  the  spot.  The 
evil  appeared  to  be  incapable  of  remedy ; and 
of  such  importance  was  this  body  of  Spartans 
to  the  community,  that  all  present  agreed  in 
the  necessity  of  soliciting  a truce,  until  am- 
bassadors were  sent  to  Athens  to  treat  of  a 
general  peace.  The  Athenians  granted  a sus- 
pension of  hostilities,  on  condition  that  the 
Spartans,  as  a pledge  of  their  sincerity,  surren- 
dered their  whole  fleet  (consisting  of  about 
sixty  vessels)  into  the  harbour  of  Pylus.  Even 
this  mortifying  proposal  was  accepted.  Twenty 
days  were  consumed  in  the  embassy ; during 
which  time  the  troops  intercepted  in  Sphacteria 
were  supplied  with  a stated  proportion  of  meal, 
meat,  and  wine,6  that  of  the  freemen  amount- 
ing to  double  the  quantity  allowed  to  the  slaves. 

When  the  Spartan  ambassadors  were  admit- 
ted to  an  audience  at  Athens,  they  artfully 
apologized  for  the  intended  length  of  their  dis- 
courses. In  all  their  transactions  with  the 
Greeks,  they  had  hitherto  affected  the  digni- 
fied brevity?  inspired  by  conscious  pre-emi- 
nence : “ Yet  on  the  present  occasion,  they 
allowed  that  it  was  necessary  to  explain,  at 
some  length,  the  advantages  which  would  result 
to  all  Greece,  and  particularly  to  Athens  her- 
self, if  the  latter  accepted  the  treaty  and  alli- 
ance, the  free  gifts  of  unfeigned  friendship, 
spontaneously  offered  by  Sparta.  They  pre- 
tended not  to  conceal  or  extenuate  the  great- 
ness of  their  misfortune;  but  the  Athenians 
ought  also  to  remember  the  vicissitudes  of  war. 
It  was  full  time  to  embrace  a hearty  reconcile- 
ment, and  to  terminate  the  calamities  of  their 
common  country.  The  war  had  as  yet  been 
carried  on  with  more  emulation  than  hatred  ; 
neither  party  had  been  reduced  to  extremity, 
nor  had  any  incurable  evil  been  yet  inflicted  or 
suffered.  Terms  of  agreement,  if  accepted  in 
the  moment  of  victory,  would  redound  to  the 
glory  of  Athens  ; if  rejected,  would  ascertain, 
who  were  the  authors  of  the  war,  and  to  whom 
the  public  calamities  ought  thenceforth  to  be 


6 Thucydides  does  not  ascertain  the  quantity  of  meat. 
Ho  says,  two  chccnixes  of  meal,  and  two  cotyls  of  wine*, 
that  is,  two  pints  of  meal,  and  one  pint  of  wine,  English 
measure,  a very  small  allowance ; but  tho  Athenians  w-ero 
afraid  lest  the  besieged  might  hoard  their  provisions,  if 
allowed  more  for  daily  support ; which,  if  the  negotiation 
failed,  would  enable  them  to  hold  out  the  place  longer 
thnn  they  could  otherwise  have  done. 

7 Impcratoria  brovita9.  Tacitus. 


206 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


imputed ; since  it  was  well  known,  that  if 
Athens  and  Sparta  were  unanimous,  no  power 
in  Greece  would  venture  to  dispute  their  com- 
mands.”1 

The  meek  spirit  of  this  discourse  only  dis- 
covered to  the  Athenians  the  full  extent  of  their 
good  fortune,  of  which  they  determined  com- 
pletely to  avail  themselves.  Instigated  by  the 
violence  of  Cleon,  they  answered  the  ambassa- 
dors with  great  haughtiness ; demanding,  as 
preliminaries  to  the  treaty,  that  the  Spartans  in 
Sphacteria  should  be  sent  to  Athens,  and  that 
several  places  of  great  importance,  belonging  to 
the  Spartans  or  their  allies,  should  be  delivered 
into  their  hands.  These  lofty  pretensions, 
which  were  by  no  means  justified  by  military 
success,  appeared  totally  inadmissible  to  the 
ambassadors,  who  returned  in  disgust  to  the 
Spartan  camp. 

Nothing,  it  was  evident,  could  be  expected 
from  the  moderation  of  Athens ; but  it  was  ex- 
pected from  her  justice,  that  she  would  restore 
the  fleet,  which  had  been  surrendered  as  a 
pledge  of  the  treaty.  Even  this  was,-  on  va- 
rious pretences,  denied.2  Both  parties,  there- 
fore, prepared  for  hostilities ; the  Athenians 
to  maintain  their  arrogance,  the  Spartans  to 
avenge  it. 

The  former  employed  the  operation  of  fa- 
mine, as  the  readiest  and  least  dangerous  mode 
of  reducing  the  soldiers  in  Sphacteria.  The 
Athenian  fleet  now  greatly  augmented,  carefully 
guarded  the  island  night  and  day.  But  not- 
withstanding their  utmost  vigilance,  small  ves- 
sels availed  themselves  of  storms  and  darkness 
to  throw  provisions  into  the  place ; a service  un- 
dertaken by  slaves  from  the  promise  of  liberty ; 
and  by  freemen,  from  the  prospect  of  great  pe- 
cuniary rewards.  The  Athenians  redoubled 
their  diligence,  and  often  intercepted  these 
victuallers ; but  they  found  it  more  difficult  to 
interrupt  the  expert  divers,  who,  plunging  deep 
under  water,  dragged  after  them  bottles  of 
leather,  filled  with  honey  and  flour.  The  block- 
ade was  thus  fruitlessly  protracted  several 
weeks.  Demosthenes  was  averse  to  attack  an 
island  difficult  of  access,  covered  with  wood, 
destitute  of  roads,  and  defended  on  the  side  of 
Pylus  by  a natural  fortification,  strengthened 
by  art.  Meanwhile  the  Athenians  began  to 
suffer  inconveniences  in  their  turn.  Their  gar- 
rison in  Pylus  was  closely  pressed  by,  the  ene- 
my ; there  was  but  one  source  of  fresh  water, 
and  that  scanty,  in  the  place  ; provisions  grew 
scarce;  the  barrenness  of  the  neighbouring 
coast  afforded  no  supply  ; while  they  besieged 
the  Spartans,  they  themselves  experienced  the 
hardships  of  a siege. 

When  their  situation  was  reported  at  Athens, 
the  assembly  fell  into  commotion : many  cla- 
moured against  Demosthenes;  several  accused 
Cleon.  The  artful  demagogue,  whose  opposi- 
tion had  chiefly  prevented  an  advantageous 
peace  with  Sparta,  affected  to  disbelieve  the  in- 
telligence, and  advised  sending  men  of  approv- 


1 Thucydid.  p.  262.  ot  seq. 

2 The  Athenians  objected,  “an  incursion  towards  their 

fortress,  during  the  suspension  of  hostilities,  xai  oux 

and  othcT  matters  of  little  moment,  says  Thu- 
cydides, with  his  usual  impartiality,  p.  266. 


[Chap. 

ed  confidence  to  Pylus,  in  order  to  detect  the 
imposture.  The  populace  called  aloud,  “ that 
Cleon  himself  should  undertake  that  commis- 
sion.” But  the  dissembler  dreaded  to  become 
the  dupe  of  his  own  artifice.  He  perceived, 
that  if  he  went  to  Pylus,  he  must,  at  his  return, 
either  acknowledge  the  truth  of  the  report,  and 
thus  be  subjected  to  immediate  shame,  or  fabri- 
cate false  intelligence,  and  thus  be  exposed  to 
future  punishment.  He  therefore  eluded  his 
own  proposal,  by  declaring,  “ that  it  ill  became 
the  dignity  of  Athens  to  stoop  to  a formal  and 
tedious  examination  ; and  that,  whatever  were 
the  state  of  the  armament,  if  the  commanders 
acted  like  men,  they  might  take  Sphacteria  in  a 
few  days : that  if  ht  had  the  honour  to  be 
general,  he  would  sail  to  the  island  with  a 
small  body  of  light  infantry,  and  take  it  at  the 
first  onset.”  • 

These  sarcastic  observations  were  chiefly  di- 
rected against  Nicias,  one  of  the  generals  actually 
present  in  the  assembly ; a man  of  a virtuous, 
but  timid  disposition ; endowed  with  much  pru- 
dence, and  little  enterprise ; possessed  of  mode- 
rate abilities,  and  immoderate  riches ; a zealous 
partizan  of  aristocracy,  and  an  avowed  enemy 
to  Cleon,  whom  he  regarded  as  the  worst  ene- 
my of  his  country. 

A person  of  this  character  could  not  be  much 
inclined  to  engage  in  the  hazardous  expedition 
to  Sphacteria.  When  the  Athenians,  with  the 
usual  licentiousness  that  prevailed  in  their  as- 
semblies, called  out  to  Cleon,  “ that  if  the  en- 
terprise appeared  so  easy,  it  would  better  suit 
the  extent  of  his  abilities ;”  Nicias  rose  up,  and 
immediately  offered  to  cede  to  him  the  com- 
mand. Cleon  at  first  accepted  it,  thinking 
Nicias’s  proposal  merely  a feint ; but  when  the 
latter  appeared  in  earnest,  his  adversary  drew 
back,  alleging,  “ that  Nicias,  not  Cleon  wTas 
general.”  The  Athenians,  with  the  malicious 
pleasantry  natural  to  the  multitude,  pressed 
Cleon  the  closer,  the  more  eagerly  he  receded. 
He  was  at  length  overcome  by  their  importu- 
nity, but  not  forsaken  by  his  impudence.3  Ad- 
vancing to  the  middle  of  the  assembly,  he  de- 
clared, “ that  he  was  not  afraid  of  the  Lacedae- 
monians; and  engaged  in  twenty  days  to  bring 
the  Spartans  as  prisoners  to  Athens,  or  to  die 
in  the  attempt.”4  This  heroical  language  ex- 
cited laughter  among  the  multitude ; the  wise 
rejoiced  in  thinking,  that  they  must  obtain  one 
of  two  advantages,  either  the  destruction  of  a 
turbulent  demagogue  (which  they  rather  hop- 
ed,) or  the  capture  of  the  Spartans  in  Sphac- 
teria. 

t The  latter  event  was  hastened  by 

lxxxviii  4 an  acc4(^en^  While  some  soldiers 
A C 4^5  were  preparing  their  victuals,  tte 
J‘  wood  was  set  on  fire,  and  long 
burned  unperceived,  till  a brisk  gale  arising, 
the  conflagration  raged  with  such  violence,  as 
threatened  to  consume  the  island.  This  unfore- 
seen disaster  disclosed  the  strength  and  position 
of  the  Spartans ; and  Demosthenes  was  actually 


3 Thucvdid.  p.  271. 

4 H auTcu  xttoxtcvbiv,  “or  kill  them  on  the  spot.”  A 
little  alteration  in  the  text  will  give  the  meaning  which  I 
preferred  as  most  agreeable  to  what  follows;  but  the  other 
translation  belter  suits  the  boastful  character  of  Cleon. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


207 


XVII.] 

preparing  to  attack  them,  when  Cleon,  with  his 
light-armed  troops,  arrived  in  the  camp.  The 
island  was  invaded  during  night ; the  ad- 
vanced guards  were  taken  or  slain.  At  the 
dawn,  the  Athenians  made  a descent  from 
seventy  ships.  The  main  body  of  the  enemy 
retired  to  the  strong  post  opposite  to  Pylus, 
harassed  in  their  march  by  showers  of  arrows, 
stones,  and  darts,  involved  in  the  ashes  of  the 
burnt  wood,  which  mounting  widely  into  the 
air,  on  all  sides  intercepted  their  sight,  and  in- 
creased the  gloom  of  battle.  The  Spartans, 
closely  embodied,  and  presenting  a dreadful 
front  to  the  assailants,  made  good  their  retreat. 

Having  occupied  the  destined  post,  they  boldly 
defended  it  wherever  the  enemy  approached, 
for  the  nature  of  the  ground  hindered  it  from 
being  surrounded.  The  Athenians  used  their 
utmost  efforts  to  repel  and  overcome  them ; 
and  during  the  greatest  part  of  the  day,  both 
parties  obstinately  persevered  in  their  purpose, 
under  the  painful  pressures  of  battle,  thirst, 
and  a burning  sun.  At  length  the  Messenians, 
whose  ardour  had  been  signally  distinguished 
in  every  part  of  this  enterprise,  discovered  an 
unknown  path  leading  to  the  eminence  which 
defended  the  Lacedaemonian  rear.  The  Spar- 
tans were  thus  encompassed  on  all  sides,  and 
reduced  to  a similar  situation  to  that  of  their 
illustrious  countrymen  who  fell  at  Thermopylae. 

Nor  did  their  commanders  disgrace  the  coun- 
try of  Leonidas.  Their  general,  Epitades,  was 
slain.  Hippagretes  was  dying  of  his  wounds. 
Styphon,  the  third  in  command,  still  exhorted 
them  to  persevere.  But  Demosthenes  and  Cleon, 
desirous  rather  to  carry  them  prisoners  to  Athens, 
than  to  put  them  to  death,  invited  them,  by  the 
loud  proclamation  of  a herald,  to  lay  down  their 
arms.  The  greater  part  dropped  their  shields, 
and  waved  their  hands  in  token  of  compliance. 
A conference  followed  between  Demosthenes 
and  Cleon  on  one  side,  and  Styphon  on  the 
other.  Styphon  desired  leave  to  send  over  to 
the  Lacedaemonians  on  the  continent  for  ad- 
vice. Several  messages  passed  between  them  ; 
in  the  last  of  which  it  was  said,  “ the  Lacedae- 
monians permit  you  to  consult  your  own  utility, 
provided  you  submit  to  nothing  base in  con- 
sequence of  which  determination,  they  surren- 
dered their  arms  and  their  persons.  They  were 
conducted  to  Athens,  within  the  time  assigned: 
by  Cleon  ; having  held  out  fifty-two  days  after 
the  expiration  of  the  truce,  during  which  time 
they  had  been  so  sparing  of  the  provisions  con- 
veyed to  them  by  the  extraordinary  means 
above  mentioned,  that,  when  the  place  was 
taken,  they  had  still  something  in  reserve.5 

The  Athenians  withdrew  their  fleet,  leaving  a 
strong  garrison  in  Pylus,  which  was  soon  rein- 
forced by  an  enterprising  body  of  Messenians 
from  Naupactus.  The  Messenians,  though  pos- 
sessed of  no  more  than  one  barren  cape  on  their 
native  and  once  happy  coast,  resumed  their  in- 
veterate hatred  against  Sparta,  whose  territo- 
ries they  continually  infested  by  incursions,  or 
harassed  by  alarms.  This  species  of  war,  de- 
structive in  itself,  was  rendered  still  more  dan- 
gerous by  the  revolts  of  the  Helots,  attracted 


by  every  motive  of  affection  towards  their  an- 
cient kinsmen,  and  animated  by  every  principle 
of  resentment  against  their  tyrannical  masters'. 
Mean  while  the  Athenian  fleet  renewed  and 
multiplied  their  ravages  on  the  coast  of  Pelo- 
ponnesus. Reduced  to  extremity  by  such  pro- 
ceedings, the  Spartans  sent  to  Athens  repeated 
overtures  of  accommodation.  But  the  good 
fortune  of  the  Athenians  had  only  nourished 
their  ambition.  At  the  instigation  of  Cleon, 
they  dismissed  the  Spartan  ambassadors  more 
insolently  than  ever.6 7  Such  was  their  deference 
to  the  opinion  of  this  arrogant  demagogue  ; at 
the  same  time  that,  with  the  most  inconsistent 
levity,  they  listened  with  pleasure  to  the  plays 
of  Aristophanes,  which  lashed  the  character 
Tind  administration  of  Cleon  with  the  boldest 
severity  of  satire,  sharpened  by  the  edge  of  the 
most  poignant  ridicule. 

The  taking  of  Pylus,  the  triumphant  return 
of  Cleon,  a notorious  coward  transformed  by 
caprice  and  accident  into  a brave  and  successful 
commander,  were  topics  well  suiting  the  comic 
vein  of  Aristophanes.  The  imperious  dema- 
gogue had  deserved  the  personal  resentment  of 
the  poet,  by  denying  the  legitimacy  of  his  birth/ 
and  thereby  contesting  his  title  to  vote  in  the 
assembly.  On  former  occasions,  Aristophanes 
had  stigmatised  the  incapacity  and  insolence 
of  Cleon,  together  with  his  perfidious  selfish- 
ness in  embroiling  the  affairs  of  the  republic. 
In  the  comedy8  first  represented  in  the  seventh 
year  of  the  war,  he  attacks  him  in  the  moment 
of  victory,  when  fortune  had  rendered  him  the 
idol  of  a licentious  multitude,  when  no  come- 
dian was  so  daring  as  to  play  his  character, 
and  no  painter  so  bold  as  to  design  his  mask.9 

Aristophanes,  therefore,  appeared  for  the  first 
time  on  the  stage,  only  disguising  his  own  face, 
the  better  to  represent  the  part  of  Cleon.  In 
this  ludicrous  piece,  which  seems  to  have  been 
celebrated  even  beyond  its  merit,  the  people  of 
Athens  are  described  under  the  allegory  of  a 
capricious  old  dotard,  whose  credulity,  abused 
by  a malicious  slave  lately  admitted  into  his 
house,10  persecutes  and  torments  his  faithful 
old  servants.  Demosthenes  bitterly  complains, 
that,  intending  to  gratify  the  palate  of  the  old 
man,  he  had  brought  a delicate  morsel  from 
Pylus ; but  that  it  had  been  stolen  by  Cleon, 
and  by  him  served  up  to  their  common  master. 
After  lamenting,  with  his  companion  Nicias, 
the  hardships  of  their  condition,  they  hold 
counsel  together,  and  contrive  various  expe- 
dients for  putting  an  end  to  their  common  ca- 
lamities. The  desponding  Nicias  proposes 
drinking  bull’s  blood,  after  the  example  of 
Themistocles  ; Demosthenes,  with  more  cou- 
rage, advises  a hearty  draught  of  wine.  Find- 
ing Cleon  asleep,  they  seize  the  opportunity 
not  only  to  purloin  this  liquor,  but  to  rifle  his 
pockets,  in  which  they  discover  some  ancient 
oracles,  typically  representing  the  succession  ol 
Athenian  magistrates.  Towards  the  end  of  the  _ 


6 Aristoph.  Equit.  794. 

7 Vit.  anonym.  Aristoph. 

8 The  *7rjrsi{. 

9 T 7ro  tov  Jsooj  yeeg  cevrov  oufrei g qSs\s 
Twv  <rx evoTTOHav  succcc r*«.  EquiteP,  v.  231. 

10  Neoi/>)Toi/  Kuxovy  “The  new-bought  mischief.” 


5 Thucydid.  p.  271 — 279. 


208 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


prophecy,  it  was  said,  that  the  dragon  should 
overcome  the  devouring  vulture.  The  rapacious 
avarice  of  Cleon  corresponded  to  the  type  of  the 
vulture ; and  the  dragon  darkly  shadowed  out 
Agoracritus,  an  eminent  maker  of  puddings  and 
sausages,  the  shape  and  contents  of  which  allud- 
ed to  the  figure  and  food  of  that  terrible  serpent. 
Nicias  and  Demosthenes  hail  this  favourite  of 
fortune,  as  the  destined  master  of  the  republic. 
Agoracritus  alleges  in  vain,  that  he  is  totally  un- 
acquainted with  political  affairs,  ignorant  of 
every  liberal  art,  and  has  hardly  learned  to  read. 
They  reply,  by  announcing  to  him  the  oracle, 
and  by  proving  that  his  pretended  imperfections 
better  qualified  him  to  conduct  the  government 
of  Athens.  This  office  required  none  of  the 
talents,  the  want  of  which  he  lamented.  He 
matched  Cleon  in  impudence,  and  surpassed  him 
in  strength  of  lungs.  His  profession  had  taught 
him  to  squeeze,  to  amass,  to  bruise,  to  embroil, 
and  to  confound  ; and  long  experience  had  ren- 
dered him  accomplished  in  all  the  frauds  and 
chicane  of  the  market.1  He  might  therefore 
boldly  enter  the  lists  with  Cleon,  being  assured 
of  assistance  from  the  whole  body  of  Athenian 
knights.2  Agoracritus,  thus  encouraged,  pre- 
pares for  encountering  his  adversary.  The 
contest,  long  doubtful,  is  maintained  in  a style 
of  the  lowest  buffoonery,  always  ludicrous,  of- 
ten indecent.  The  old  dotard,  or  rather  the 
Athenians  whom  he  represents,  finally  acknow- 
ledge their  past  errors  ; and  regret  being  so  long 
deceived  by  an  upstart  slave,  through  whose 
obstinacy  in  continuing  the  war,  they  had  been 
cooped  up  within  the  walls  of  an  unwholesome 
city,  and  hindered  from  enjoying  their  beauti- 
ful fields  and  happy  rural  amusements.  Ago- 
racritus seizes  this  favourable  moment  to  pro- 
duce two  ancient  treaties  with  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians, personified  by  two  beautiful  women, 
whom  he  had  found  closely  mewed  up  in  the 
house  of  Cleon.  Of  these  females  the  old  Athe- 
nian becomes  suddenly  enamoured,  and  they 
retire  together  to  the  country. 

The  people  of  Athens  permitted, 
lxxxiT"  1 anc^  even  aPProvecb  the  licentious 

AXqX^24  boldness  of  Aristophanes ; but  nei- 
' ‘ Z ’ ther  the  strength  of  reason,  nor  the 

sharpness  of  satire,  could  resist  the  impetuosity 
of  their  ambition.  The  war  was  rendered 
popular  by  success;  they  prepared  for  carrying 
it  on  with  redoubled  vigour.  The  first  opera- 
tions of  the  ensuing  summer  gratified  their  ut- 
most hopes.  The  principal  division  of  the  fleet, 
conducted  by  the  prudence  of  Nicias,  took  the 
fertile  and  populous  island  of  Cythera,  stretch- 
ing from  the  southern  promontory  of  Laconia 
towards  the  Cretan  sea,  and  long  enriched  by 
the  commerce  of  Egypt  and  Libya.  The  La- 
cedaemonian garrison,  as  well  as  the  Spartan 
magistrates  in  the  island,  surrendered  prisoners 
of  war.  The  more  dangerous  part  of  the 
inhabitants  were  removed  to  the  Athenian 
isles;  the  remainder  were  subjected  to  an  an- 
nual tribute  of  eight  hundred  pounds  sterling; 


1 The  same  word  in  Greek  denotes  the  market  and  the 
forum.  Indeed  the  same  place  usually  served  for  both. 

2 The  i5T!Ts«s,  or  Equites,  the  second  rank  of  citizens  at 
Athens,  who  detested  Cleon,  and  from  whom  the  play 
takes  its  name. 


an  Athenian  garrison  took  possession  of  the 
fortress. 

Soon  after  this  important  conquest,  the  arms 
of  Demosthenes  and  Hippocrates  reduced  the 
town  of  Nicaea,  the  principal  sea-port  of  the 
Megareans;  and  the  Athenian  fleet  ravaged 
with  impunity  several  maritime  cities  on  the 
eastern  coast  of  Peloponnesus.  Thyrea  was 
condemned  to  a harder  fate.  This  city,  toge- 
ther with  the  surrounding  district,  had  been 
granted,  by  the  compassion  of  Sparta,  to  the 
miserable  natives  of  flGgina,  who  (as  above 
mentioned)  had  been  driven  from  their  once 
powerful  island  by  the  cruelty  of  Athens.  This 
cruelty  still  continued  to  pursue  them.  Their 
newly-raised  walls  were  taken  by  assault;  theh* 
houses  burned ; and  the  inhabitants,  without 
distinction,  put  to' the  sword. 

Hitherto  all  the  enterprises  of  the  Athenians 
were  crowned  with,  success.  Fortune  first  de- 
serted them  in  Bceotia.  During  several  months 
their  generals,  Demosthenes  and  Hippocrates, 
availing  themselves  of  the  political  factions  of 
that  country,  had  been  carrying  on  secret  in- 
trigues with  Chaeronaea,  Siphae,  and  Orchome- 
nus,  places  abounding  in  declared  partizans  of 
democracy,  and  eternally  hostile  to  the  ambi- 
tion of  Thebes.  The  insurgents  had  agreed  to 
take  arms,  in  order  to  betray  the  western  parts 
of  Bceotia  to  Demosthenes,  who  sailed  with 
forty  galleys  from  Naupactus;  while  Hippocra- 
tes, at  the  head  of  seven  thousand  heavy-armed 
Athenians,  and  a much  greater  proportion  of 
light-armed  auxiliaries,  invaded  the  eastern 
frontier  of  that  province.  It  was  expected, 
that,  before  the  Thebans  could  bring  a sufficient 
force  into  the  field,  the  invaders  and  insurgents, 
advancing  from  opposite  extremities  of  the 
country,  might  unite  in  the  centre,  and  perhaps 
subdue  Thebes  itself,  the  most  powerful,  as 
well  as  most  zealous,  ally  of  Sparta. 

This  plan,  though  concerted  with  much 
ability,  was  found  too  complicated  for  execu- 
tion. Demosthenes  steered  towards  Siphae, 
before  his  coadjutor  was  ready  to  take  the 
field ; some  mistake,  it  is  said,  having  happened 
about  the  time  appointed  for  action ; and  the 
whole  contrivance  was  betrayed  by  Nichoma- 
chus,  a Phocian,  to  the  Spartans,  and  by  them 
communicated  to  the  Boeotians.  The  cities 
which  meditated  revolt  were  thus  secured, 
before  Demosthenes  appeared  at  Siphae,  and 
before  Hippocrates  had  even  marched  from 
Attica. 

Ql  The  latter  at  length  entered  the 

lxxxixl  eastern  frontier  of  Bceotia;  and,  as 
A C 424  t^ie  PrinciPa^  design  had  miscarried, 
contented  himself  with  taking  and 
fortifying  Delium,  a place  sacred  to  Apollo. 
Having  garrisoned  this  post,  he  prepared  for 
returning  home.  But  while  his  army  still  lay 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Delium,  the  Thebans, 
encouraged  by  Pagondas,  a brave  and  skilful 
leader,  marched  with  great  rapidity  from  Ta- 
nagra,  in  order  to  intercept  his  retreat.  Their 
forces  amounted  to  eighteen  thousand;  the 
Athenians  were  little  less  numerous.  An  en- 
gagement ensued,  which  national  emulation 
rendered  bloody  and  obstinate.  Before  the 
battle,  Pagondas  had  detached  a small  squadron 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


209 


XVII.] 

of  horse,  with  orders  to  ride  up  after  the  com- 
mencement of  the  action.  This  stratagem  was 
decisive.  The  Athenians,  terrified  at  the  sight 
of  a reinforcement,  which  their  fears  magnified 
into  a new  army,  were  thrown  into  disorder, 
and  put  to  flight.  Approaching  darkness  saved 
them  from  total  destruction.  They  escaped 
disgracefully  into  Attica,  after  leaving  in  the 
field  of  battle  a thousand  pikemen,  with  their 
commander  Hippocrates. 

The  victorious  army  immediately  formed  the 
siege  of  Delium,  which  was  taken  by  means 
of  a machine  first  contrived  for  that  purpose. 
Several  parts  of  the  fortification,  which  had 
been  raised  in  great  haste,  consisted  chiefly 
of  wood.  The  besiegers  therefore,  joining  to- 
gether a number  of  large  beams,  formed  a huge 
mast,  perforated  in  the  middle  ; to  one  of  its 
extremities  they  appended  a prodigious  mass 
of  pitch  and  sulphur ; and  to  the  other  a bel- 
lows, which,  when  this  unusual  instrument  of 
destruction  was  raised  above  the  wooden  ram- 
part, immediately  threw  the  whole  into  flames. 
The  Athenian  garrison,  diminished  by  death  or 
desertion  to  two  hundred  men,  surrendered 
prisoners  of  war.3 

The  Athenians  had  scarcely  time  to  lament 
their  losses  in  Bceotia,  when  they  received  in- 
telligence of  a calamity  in  another  quarter, 
equally  unexpected,  and  still  more  alarming. 
This  event  is  the  more  remarkable,  because  it 
naturally  arose  out  of  the  preceding  prosperity 
of  Athens,  and  the  past  misfortunes  of  Sparta. 
The  uninterrupted  train  of  success  which  at- 
tended the  arms  of  Nicias  and  Demosthenes  in 
the  eighth  year  of  the  war,  alarmed  the  citi- 
zens of  Olynthus  and  other  places  of  the  Chal- 
cidice,  which  having  embraced  the  earliest 
opportunity  of  revolting  from  the  Athenians, 
justly  dreaded  the  vengeance  of  an  incensed 
and  victorious  people.  Every  southerly  wind 
threatened  them  with  the  approach  of  an  Athe- 
nian fleet.  Their  apprehensions  were  not  less 
painful  on  the  side  of  Thessaly.  The  slightest 
movement  in  that  country  terrified  them  with 
the  apprehensions  of  an  Athenian  army,  which, 
victorious  in  the  south, should  advance  to  punish 
its  northern  enemies.  But  as  none  of  these 
dreaded  dangers  were  realized,  the  inhabitants 
of  the  Chalcidice  gradually  resumed  courage, 
put  their  towns  in  a posture  of  defence,  and 
craved  assistance  from  their  Peloponnesian 
allies.  At  the  same  time  Perdiccas,  king  of 
Macedon,  who  regarded  the  Athenians  as  his 
ancient  and  natural  enemies,  and  the  rapacious 
invaders  of  his  coast,  sent  money  into  the  south 
of  Greece,  for  the  purpose  of  hiring  soldiers, 
whom  he  intended  to  employ  in  resisting  the 
encroachments  of  that  ambitious  people,  as 
well  as  in  subduing  the  Elymeans,  Lyncestae, 
and  other  barbarous  tribes,  not  yet  incorporated 
in  the  Macedonian  kingdom. 

Such  were  the  enemies,  whose  activity  the 
good  fortune  of  Athens  had  roused  ; while  the 
calamities  of  Sparta  prompted  her  to  supply  the 
reinforcement  of  troops,  which  both  Perdiccas 
and  the  Chalcidians  demanded.  During  the 
seventh  and  eighth  years  of  the  war,  that  re- 


public fatally  experienced  the  truth  of  Pericles’s 
maxim,  “ that  those  who  command  the  sea, 
may  also  become  masters  at  land.”  The  Athe- 
nian fleets  domineered  over  the  coast  cf  Pelo- 
ponnesus. It  was  impossible  to  foresee  what 
places  would  be  the  next  objects  of  their  con- 
tinual descents.  The  maritime  parts  were  suc- 
cessively laid  waste,  and  finally  abandoned  by 
the  inhabitants,  who  found  resistance  ineffec- 
tual and  useless.  These  misfortunes  were  in- 
creased by  the  frequent  desertion  of  the  Helots 
to  the  neighbouring  garrisons  in  Pylus  and 
Cythera,  and  by  the  dread  of  a general  insur- 
rection among  those  numerous  and  unhappy 
victims  of  Spartan  tyranny.  To  prevent  this 
evil,  the  Spartans  had  recourse  to  such  expe- 
dients as  excite  astonishment  and  horror.  They 
commanded  the  Helots  to  choose  two  thousand 
of  their  bravest  and  most  meritorious  youths, 
who,  by  the  general  consent  of  their  com- 
panions, deserved  the  crown  of  liberty;  and 
when  invested  with  this  perfidious  ornament, 
the  unsuspecting  freemen  had  paraded  the 
streets,  and  sacrificed  in  the  temples,  exulting 
in  their  late  emancipation,  these  new  members 
of  the  community  gradually  disappeared  from 
the  sight  of  men,  nor  was  it  ever  known  by 
what  means  they  had  been  destroyed.  But  the 
veil  of  mystery,  which  concealed  that  dark  and 
bloody  stratagem,  prevented  neither  the  resent- 
ment of  the  slaves,  nor  the  just  suspicion  of 
their  masters.  The  latter  were  eager  to  em- 
brace any  measure  that  might  deliver  their 
country  from  its  dangerous  domestic  foes. 
With  much  satisfaction,  therefore,  they  sent 
seven  hundred  Helots  to  the  standard  of  Bra- 
sidas,  whose  merit  had  recommended  him  to 
Perdiccas  and  the  Chalcidians,  as  the  general 
best  qualified  to  manage  the  Macedonian  war. 
About  a thousand  soldiers  were  levied  in  the 
neighbouring  cities  of  Peloponnesus.  Several 
Spartans  cheerfully  accompanied  a leader 
whom  they  admired.  With  this  inconsiderable 
force  Brasidas,  towards  the  beginning  of  au- 
tumn, undertook  an  expedition  highly  import- 
ant in  its  consequences,  and  conducted  with 
consummate  prudence  and  bravery.4 
Olvmn  Having  traversed  the  friendly 

lxxxix  1 countries  of  Bceotia  and  Phocis,  he 

A C 424  arr*ve<*  at  f°ot  M°unt  Oeta, 
and  penetrated  through  the  narrow 
defiles  confined  between  that  steep  and  woody 
range  of  hills,  and  the  boisterous  waves  of  the 
Malian  gulf.  The  sight  of  Thermopylae  ani- 
mated the  enthusiasm  of  the  Spartans,  and 
encouraged  them  to  force  their  way  through 
tjie  hostile  plains  of  Thessaly ; a country  ac- 
tually torn  by  domestic  discord,  but  always 
friendly  to  the  Athenians.  The  celerity  of 
Brasidas  anticipated  the  slow. opposition  of  a 
divided  enemy.  Having  reached  the  Macedo- 
nian town  of  Dium,  he  joined  forces  with  Per- 
diccas, who  proposed  directing  the  first  opera- 
tions of  the  combined  army  against  Arriboeus, 
the  king  or  leader  of  the  barbarous  Lyncestre. 
But  even  this  Barbarian  knew  the  valour  of 
the  Spartans,  and  the  equity  of  Brasidas.  To 
the  decision  of  the  Grecian  general  he  offered 


3 Thucydid.  p.  304—320. 

2 D 


4 Thurydid.  p.  304. 


210 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


to  submit  tlie  differences  between  Perdiccas 
and  himself,  and  engaged  to  abide  by  the 
award,  however  unfavourable  to  his  interest. 
The  Spartan  listened  to  a proposal  extremely 
reasonable  in  itself,  though  altogether  incon- 
sistent with  the  ambitious  views  of  Perdiccas, 
who  disdained  to  accept  as  a judge  the  man 
whom  he  paid  as  an  auxiliary.  Brasidas,  on 
the  other  hand,  declined  in  firm  but  decent 
terms,  to  employ  his  valour  against  those  who 
implored  his  justice.  The  generals  thus  sepa- 
rated in  mutual  disgust;  and  Perdiccas  thence- 
forth reduced  his  contribution  of  subsidy  from 
a moiety  to  a third;  but  even  that  was  ex- 
torted from  his  fears,  not  bestowed  by  his 
munificence. 

Brasidas  hastened  to  join  the  Chalcidians,  by 
whom  he  was  received  with  a degree  of  joy 
suitable  to  the  impatience  with  which  he  had 
been  expected.  Amidst  the  general  defection 
of  their  neighbours,  the  towns  of  Acanthus  and 
Stagirus  still  maintained  their  allegiance  to 
Athens.  Brasidas  appeared  before  the  gates 
of  Acanthus,  while  the  peaceful  inhabitants 
were  preparing  for  the  labours  of  the  vintage. 
He  sent  a messenger,  craving  leave  to  enter 
the  place,  and  to  address  the  assembly.  The 
Acanthians  were  divided  in  opinion ; but  the 
majority,  fearing  to  expose  their  ripe  fields  and 
vineyards  to  the  resentment  of  his  army,  agreed 
to  admit  the  general  alone  and  unattended,  and 
impartially  to  weigh  whatever  he  proposed  for 
their  deliberation.  Brasidas,  though  a Spartan, 
was  an  able  speaker.  He  observed  to  the 
Acanthians,  convened  in  full  assembly,  “ That, 
in  compliance  with  the  generous  resolution  of 
Sparta,  he  had  undertaken,  and  finally  accom- 
plished, a long  and  dangerous  journey,  to  de- 
liver them  from  the  tyranny  of  Athenian  ma- 
gistrates and  garrisons,  and  to  restore  them, 
what  the  common  oppressors  of  Greece  had  so 
long  withheld,  the  independent  government  of 
their  own  equitable  laws.  This  was  the  object, 
which,  amidst  all  the  calamities  of  war,  the 
Spartans  had  ever  kept  in  view ; this  was  the 
purpose,  which,  before  his  departure  from 
home,  the  principal  magistrates  had  sworn 
unanimously  to  maintain.  That  freedom  and 
independence,  which  formed  the  domestic  hap- 
piness of  Sparta,  his  countrymen  were  ambi- 
tious to  communicate  to  all  their  allies.  But 
if  the  Acanthians  refused  to  share  the  general 
benefit,  they  must  not  complain  of  experiencing 
the  unhappy  effects  of  their  obstinacy.  The 
arms  of  Sparta  would  compel  those  whom  her 
arguments  had  failed  to  persuade.  Nor  could 
this  be  blamed  as  injustice ; first,  because  the 
resources  with  which  the  Acanthians  furnished 
Athens,  under  the  ignominious  name  of  tribute, 
served  to  rivet  the  chains  of  Greece ; and 
secondly,  because  the  example  of  a people,  so 
wealthy  and  flourishing,  and  long  renowned 
for  their  penetration  and  sagacity,  might  influ- 
ence the  resolutions  of  neighbouring  states,  and 
deter  them  from  concurring  with  the  measures 
necessary  to  promote  the  public  welfare  and 
security.” 

This  judicious  discourse,  enforced  by  the  ter- 
ror of  the  Spartan  army,  engaged  the  Acanthi- 
ans to  accept  the  friendship  of  Brasidas.  Stagi- 


[Chap. 

rus,  another  city  on  the  Strymonic  gulf, 
readily  followed  the  example,  and  opened  its 
gates  to  the  deliverer.  During  the  ensuing 
winter,  the  measures  of  the  Spartan  general 
were  conducted  with  equal  ability  and  enter- 
prise. His  successful  operations  against  the  in- 
land towns  facilitated  the  surrender  of  such 
places,  as,  by  their  maritime  or  insular  situa- 
tion, were  most  exposed  to  the  vengeance  of 
Athens,  and  therefore  most  averse  to  revolt. 
His  moderate  use  of  victory  ensured  the  good- 
will of  the  vanquished.  The  various  parts  of  a 
plan,  thus  artfully  combined,  mutually  assisted 
each  other ; the  success  of  one  undertaking 
contributed  to  that  of  the  next  which  followed 
it;  and,  at  length,  without  any  considerable 
miscarriage,  he  had  rendered  himself  master  of 
most  places  in  the  peninsulas  of  Acta,  Sithonia, 
and  Pallene. 

The  loss  of  Amphipolis  was  that  which  most 
deeply  afflicted  the  Athenians : a rich  and  popu- 
lous city,  beautifully  situate  on  a small  but  well 
cultivated  island,  surrounded  by  the  river 
Strymon,  the  banks  of  which  supplied  excellent 
timber,  and  other  materials  of  naval  strength. 
By  possessing  this  town,  the  Spartans  now 
commanded  both  branches  of  the  river,  and 
might  thus  pass,  without  interruption,  to  the 
Athenian  colonies,  or  subjects,  on  the  coast  of 
Thrace ; seize,  or  plunder,  the  gold  mines  op- 
posite to  the  isle  of  Thasos  ; and  ravage  the 
fertile  fields  of  the  Thracian  Chersonesus.  The 
conquest  of  a place  so  essential  to  the  enemy, 
had  exercised  the  courage,  the  eloquence,  and 
the  dexterity  of  Brasidas.  He  formed  a con- 
spiracy with  the  malecontents  in  the  place, 
skilfully  disposed  his  army  before  the  walls, 
harangued  the  assembly  of  the  people.  A most 
seasonable  promptitude  distinguished  all  his 
measures;  yet  the  Athenian  Eucleus,  who  com- 
manded the  garrison,  found  time  to  send  a ves- 
sel to  Thasos,  requesting  immediate  and  ef- 
fectual relief. 

The  Athenians  had  committed  the  govern- 
ment of  that  island,  as  well  as  the  direction  of 
the  mines  on  the  opposite  continent,  to  the 
celebrated  historian  of  a war,  in  which  he  was 
a meritorious,  though  unfortunate,  actor.  With- 
out a moment’s  delay,  Thucydides  put  to  sea 
with  seven  galleys,  and  arrived  in  the  mouth 
of  the  Strymon  the  same  day  on  which  his  as- 
sistance had  been  demanded.  But  it  was 
already  too  late  to  save  Amphipolis.1  The 
Spartan  general,  who  had  exact  information  of 
all  the  measures  of  the  besieged,  well  knew  the 
importance  of  anticipating  the  arrival  of  Thu- 
cydides, whose  name  was  highly  respected  by 
the  Greek  colonies  in  Thrace,  and  whose  in- 
fluence was  considerable  among  the  native  Bar- 
barians. Brasidas,  therefore,  proposed  such  a 
capitulation  to  the  Amphipolitans  as  it  seemed 
imprudent  to  refuse.  They  were  to  be  released 
from  the  tribute  which  they  had  hitherto  paid 
the  Athenians  ; to  enjoy  the  utmost  degree  of 
political  independence,  not  inconsistent  with 
the  alliance  of  Sparta ; even  the  Athenian  gar- 
rison, if  they  continued  in  the  place,  were  ta 
be  entitled  to  all  the  rights  of  citizens ; and 


1 Thucydid.  p.  322. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


211 


XVII.] 

such  persons  as  chose  to  leave  it,  were  granted 
a reasonable  time  to  remove  their  families  and 
their  property.  The  last  condition  was  em- 
braced by  the  Athenians,  and  their  more  deter- 
mined partizans.  They  retired  to  the  neigh 
bouring  town  of  Eion,  situate  near  the  sea,  on 
the  northern  branch  of  the  Strymon  ; a place 
secured  against  every  hostile  assault  by  the 
skill  and  activity  of  Thucydides. 

Towards  the  end  of  winter,  the  full  extent  of 
Brasidas’s  success  was  made  known  at  Athens, 
The  assembly  was  in  commotion  ; and  the  po- 
pulace were  the  more  enraged  at  their  losses, 
as  it  now  appeared  so  easy  to  have  prevented 
them,  either  by  guarding  the  narrow  defiles, 
which  led  to  their  Macedonian  possessions,  or 
by  sending  their  fleet  with  a seasonable  rein- 
forcement to  their  feeble  garrisons  in  those 
parts.  Their  own  neglect  had  occasioned  the 
public  disgrace ; but  with  the  usual  injustice 
and  absurdity  accompanying  popular  discon- 
tents, they  exculpated  themselves,  and  banished 
their  generals.  Thucydides  was  involved  in 
this  cruel  sentence.  An  armament  was  sent  to 
Macedon  ; and  new  commanders  were  named 
to  oppose  Brasidas. 

But  the  designs  of  that  commander,  who  had 
begun  to  build  vessels  on  the  Strymon,  and  as- 
pired at  nothing  less  than  succeeding  to  the 
authority,  without  exercising  the  oppression,  of 
Athens,  over  those  extensive  shores,  were  more 
successfully  opposed  by  the  envy  of  the  Spar- 
tan magistrates.  The  pride  of  the  nobility  was 
wounded  by  the  glory  of  an  expedition,  in 
which  they  had  no  share ; and  their  selfishness, 
while  it  obstinately  prevented  the  supplies  ne- 
cessary to  complete  the  plan  of  Brasidas,  was 
eager  to  reap  the  profit  of  his  past  success.  The 
restoration  of  their  kinsmen  taken  at  Sphacte- 
ria  formed  the  object  of  their  fondest  wish  ; and 
they  expected  that  the  Athenians  might  listen 
to  a proposal  for  that  purpose,  in  order  to  reco- 
ver the  places  which  they  had  lost,  and  to 
check  the  fortunate  career  of  a prudent  and 
enterprising  general.  The  Athenians  rea- 
dily entered  into  these  views  ; it  was  deter- 
mined that  matters  of  such  importance  should 
be  discussed  with  leisure  and  impartiality ; a 
truce  was  therefore  agreed  on  for  a year  be- 
tween the  contending  republics. 

™ This  transaction  was  concluded 

/xxxix  *2  *n  n^nt^  summer  the  war. 

It  was  totally  unexpected  by  Bra- 
sidas, who  received  the  voluntary 
submission  of  Scione  and  Menda,  two  places 
of  considerable  importance  in  the  peninsula  of 
Fallen^  ; of  the  former,  indeed,  before  he  was 
acquainted  with  the  suspension  of  hostilities ; 
but  of  the  latter,  even  after  he  was  apprised  of 
that  treaty. 

Ql  While  the  active  valour  of  Bra- 

I xxxix*  3 sidas  prevented  the  confirmation  of 
A (H  422  Peace’  consc*ous  worthlessness 
of  Cleon  promoted  the  renewal,  or 
rather  the  continuance,  of  war.  The  glory  of 
Athens  was  the  perpetual  theme  of  his  discourse. 
He  exhorted  his  countrymen  to  punish  the  per- 
fidy of  Sparta,  in  abetting  the  insolent  revolt 
of  Menda  and  Scion£  ; and  to  employ  his  own 
skill  and  bravery,  which  had  been  so  success- 


fully exerted  on  the  coast  of  Peloponnesus,  to 
repair  their  declining  fortune  in  Macedonia. 
The  Athenians  listened  to  the  specious  advice 
of  this  turbulent  declaimer,  who,  in  the  ensuing 
spring,  sailed  to  the  Macedonian  coast  with  a 
fleet  of  thirty  galleys,  twelve  hundred  citizens, 
heavy-armed,  a squadron  of  three  hundred 
horse,  and  a powerful  body  of  light-armed 
auxiliaries.  The  surrender  of  Menda  and  To- 
rona,  whose  inhabitants  were  treated  with  every 
excess  of  cruelty,  encouraged  him  to  attack 
Amphipolis.  With  this  design,  having  col- 
lected his  forces  at  Eion,  he  waited  the  arrival 
of  some  Macedonian  troops,  promised  by  Per- 
diccas,  who  having  quarrelled  with  the  Spar- 
tan general,  deceitfully  flattered  the  hopes  of 
his  antagonist. 

The  army  of  Cleon  contained  the  flower  of 
the  Athenian  youth,  whose  ardent  valour  dis- 
dained a precarious  dependence  on  barbarian 
aid.  They  accused  the  cowardice  of  their 
leader,  which  was  only  equalled  by  his  inca- 
pacity, and  lamented  their  own  hard  fate  in 
being  subjected  to  the  authority  of  a man  so 
unworthy  to  command  them.  The  impatient 
temper  of  an  arrogant  demagogue  was  ill  fitted 
to.endure  these  seditious  complaints.  He  hastily 
led  his  troops  before  the  place,  without  pre- 
viously examining  the  strength  of  the  walls, 
the  situation  of  the  ground,  the  number  or 
disposition  of  the  enemy.  Brasidas,  mean 
while,  had  taken  proper  measures  to  avail  him- 
self of  the  known  imprudence  of  his  adversary. 
A considerable  body  of  men  had  been  con- 
cealed in  the  woody  mountain  Cerdylium, 
which  overhangs  Amphipolis.  The  greater 
part  of  the  army  were  drawn  up,  ready  for  ac- 
tion, at  the  several  gates  of  the  city.  Cleari- 
das,  who  commanded  there,  had  orders  to  rush 
forth  at  a given  signal,  while  Brasidas  in  per- 
son, conducting  a select  band  of  intrepid  fol- 
lowers, watched  the  first  opportunity  for  attack. 
The  plan,  contrived  with  so  much  skill,  was 
executed  with  equal  dexterity  and  precision. 
Confounded  with  the  rapidity  of  such  an  un- 
expected and  complicated  charge,  the  energy 
fled  amain,  abandoning  their  shields,  and  ex- 
posing their  naked  backs  to  the  swords  and 
spears  of  the  pursuers.  The  forces  on  either 
side  amounted  to  about  three  thousand  ; six 
hundred  Athenians  fell  victims  to  the  folly  of 
Cleon,  who,  though  foremost  in  the  flight,  was 
arrested  by  the  hand  of  a Myrcinian  targeteer. 

His  death  might  appease  the  manes  of  his 
unfortunate  countrymen  ; but  nothing  could 
alleviate  the  sorrow  of  the  victors  for  the  loss 
of  their  admired  Brasidas,  who  received  a mor- 
tal wound  while  he  advanced  to  the  attack. 
He  was  conveyed  alive  to  Amphipolis,  and 
enjoyed  the  consolation  of  his  last  victory,  in 
which  only  seven  men  had  perished  on  the 
Spartan  side.  The  sad  magnificence  of  his 
funeral  was  adorned  by  the  splendour  of  mili- 
tary honours  ; but  what  was  still  more  honour- 
able to  Brasidas,  he  was  sincerely  lamented  by 
the  grateful  tears  of  numerous  communities, 
who  regarded  his  virtues  and  abilities  as  the 
surest  pledges  of  their  own  happiness  and  se- 
curity. The  citizens  of  Amphipolis  paid  an 
extraordinary  tribute  to  his  memory.  Having 


212 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


demolished  every  monument  of  their  ancient 
leaders  and  patriots,  they  erected  the  statue  of 
Brasidas  in  the  most  conspicuous  square  of  the 
city,  appointed  annual  games  to  be  celebrated 
at  his  tomb,  and  sacrificed  to  his  revered  shade, 
as  to  the  great  hero  and  original  founder  of 
their  community.1 

The  battle  of  Amphipolis  re- 
1 moved  the  principal  obstacles  to 

Peace*  There  was  not  any  Spar- 
* * ' tan  general  qualified  to  accomplish 

the  designs  of  Brasidas.  « The  Athenians,  de- 
jected by  defeat,  and  humbled  by  disgrace, 
wanted  the  bold  imposing  eloquence  of  Cleon, 
to  disguise  their  weakness,  and  varnish  their 
misfortunes.  With  the  disheartened  remains 
of  an  enfeebled  armament,  they  despaired  of 
recovering  their  Macedonian  possessions ; and 
the  greater  part  returned  home,  well  disposed 
for  an  accommodation  with  the  enemy.  These 
dispositions  were  confirmed  by  the  pacific  tem- 
per of  Nicias,  who  had  succeeded  to  the 
influence  of  Cleon,  and  who  fortunately  dis- 
covered in  the  moderation  of  Pleistoanax,  king 
of  Sparta,  a coadjutor  extremely  solicitous  to 
promote  his  views.  During  winter,  several 
friendly  conferences  were  held  between  the 
commissioners  of  the  two  republics  ; and  to- 
wards the  commencement  of  the  ensuing  spring, 
a treaty  of  peace,  and  soon  afterwards  a defen- 
sive alliance,  for  fifty  years,  was  ratified  by  the 
kings  and  ephori  of  Sparta  on  the  one  side,  and 
by  the  archons  and  generals  of  Athens  on  the 
other.  In  consequence  of  this  negociation, 
which  was  intended  to  comprehend  the  respec- 
tive allies  of  the  contracting  powers,  all  places 
and  prisoners,  taken  in  the  course  of  the  war, 


[Chap. 

were  to  be  mutually  restored ; the  revolted  ci- 
ties in  Macedon  were  specified  by  name ; but 
it  was  regulated  that  the  Athenians  should  not 
require  from  them  any  higher  revenue  than 
that  apportioned  by  the  justice  of  Aristides.2 

In  all  their  transactions,  the  Greeks  were 
ever  prodigal  of  promises,  but  backward  in  per- 
formance; and,  amidst  the  continual  rotation  of 
authority,  magistrates  easily  found  excuses  for 
violating  the  conditions  granted  by  their  pre- 
decessors. The  known  principles  of  republican 
inconstancy,  ever  ready  to  vibrate  between  ex- 
cessive animosity  and  immoderate  friendship, 
might  likewise  suggest  a reason  for  converting 
the  treaty  of  peace  into  a contract  of  alliance. 
But  this  measure,  in  the  present  case,  was  the 
effect  of  necessity.  Athens  and  Sparta  might 
make  mutual  restitution,  because  their  respec- 
tive interests  required  it.  But  no  motive  of 
interest  engaged  the  former  power  to  restore 
Nicsea  to  the  Megarians,  or  the  towns  of  Solium 
and  Anactorium  to  Corinth.  The  Thebans, 
shortly  before  the  peace,  had  seized  the  Athe- 
nian fortress  of  Panactum,  situate  on  the  fron- 
tier of  Boeotia.  They  were  still  masters  of 
Plataea.  Elated  by  their  signal  victory  at  De- 
lium,  they  could  not  be  supposed  willing  to 
abandon  their  conquests,  or  even  much  inclined 
to  peace.  It  was  still  less  to  be  expected  that 
the  Macedonian  cities  should,  for  the  conve- 
niency  of  Sparta,  submit  to  the  severe  yoke 
of  Athens,  from  which  they  had  recently  been 
delivered  ; nor  could  it  be  hoped  that  even  the 
inferior  states  of  Peloponnesus  should  tamely 
lay  down  their  arms,  without  obtaining  any  of 
those  advantages  with  which  they  had  been 
long  flattered  by  their  Spartan  allies. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Discontents  fomented,  by  the  Corinthians — The  Argive  Alliance — To  which  Athens  accedes — 
Birth  and  Education  of  Alcibiades — His  Friendship  with  Socrates — His  Character — And 
Views — Which  are  favoured  by  the  State  of  Greece — He  deceives  the  Spartan  Ambassadors — 
Renewal  of  the  Peloponnesian  War — Battle  of  Mantincea — Tumults  in  Argos — Massacre  of  the 
Scioneans — Cruel  Conquest  of  Melos. 


T^HE  voluptuous,  yet  turbulent  citizens  of 
A Corinth,  enjoyed  the  odious  distinction  of 
renewing  a war  which  their  intrigues  and  ani- 
mosities had  first  kindled.  Under  pretence  of 
having  taken  an  oath  never  to  abandon  the 
Macedonian  cities,  they  declined  being  parties 
in  the  general  treaty  of  peace.  The  alliance  be- 
tween Athens  and  Sparta,  in  which  it  was  sti- 
pulated, that  these  contracting  powers  should  be 
entitled  to  make  such  alterations  in  the  treaty 
as  circumstances  might  require,  the  Corinthians 
affected,  with  some  reason,  to  consider  as  a 
conspiracy  against  the  common  liberties  of 
Greece.3  Fired  with  this  idea,  they  hastened 


1 Thucydid.  p.  307.  2 Thucydid.  p.  354,  et  seq. 

3 The  clause  was  worded  in  such  a manner  as  might  na- 
turally excite  alarm : n^oc'Ssit'sti  x*»  xQtKeiv  on  xv  AM- 
^OIN  roiv  jroxtoov  Jox»|.  Thucydid.  1.  v.  p.  284. 


to  Argos,  in  order  to  animate  that  republic  with 
the  same  passions  which  rankled  in  their  own 
breasts.  Having  roused  the  ambition  of  the 
magistrates , they  artfully  reminded  the  people 
of  the  glory  of  Agamemnon,  recalled  to  the 
Argives  their  ancient  and  just  pre-eminence  in 
the  Peloponnesus,  and  conjured  them  to  main- 
tain the  honour  of  that  illustrious  peninsula, 
which  had  been  so  shamefully  abandoned  by 
the  pusillanimity,  or  betrayed  by  the  selfish- 
ness, of  Sparta. 

The  Argives  wanted  neither 
1 ^^*4  power  nor  inclination  to  assume 

A CW 21  tliat  imPortant  office-  During  the 
A.  4-1.  pei0p0nnesjan  war,  they  had  ob- 
served the  principles  of  a prudent  neutrality, 
equally  favourable  to  their  populousness  and 
their  wealth.  Their  protection  was  courted  by 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


213 


XVIII.] 

Mantinaea,  the  most  powerful  city  in  Arcadia, 
which  had  recently  conquered  some  villages  in 
its  neighbourhood,  to  which  Sparta  laid  claim. 
The  Elians,  long  hostile  to  Sparta,  eagerly  pro- 
moted the  Argive  alliance,  which  was  farther 
strengthened  by  the  speedy  accession  of  the 
Macedonian  allies,  whose  inhabitants  were  not 
more  flattered  by  the  kind  zeal  of  Corinth,  than 
provoked  by  the  cruel  indifference  of  Sparta. 
Thebes  and  Megara  were  equally  offended  with 
their  Lacedaemonian  allies,  and  equally  inclined 
to  war.  But  a rigid  aristocracy  prevailed  in 
those  states,  whose  ambitious  magistrates,  trem- 
bling for  their  personal  authority,  and  that  of 
their  families,  declined  entering  into  confederacy 
with  free  democratical  republics.4 
j-v.  But  this  democratical  association 

xc^  i soon  acquired  an  accession  still  more 

A C Aon  imPortanti  and  received  into  its 
bosom  the  fountain  of  liberty  itself ; 
even  the  republic  of  Athens.  This  extraordi- 
nary event  happened  in  the  year  following  the 
negociation  between  Athens  and  Sparta.  It 
was  effected  by  means  extremely  remote  from 
the  experience  of  modern  times;  means  which 
it  is  incumbent  on  us  to  explain,  lest  the  politi- 
cal transactions  of  Greece  should  appear  too 
fluctuating  and  capricious  to  afford  a proper 
subject  for  history. 

Amidst  the  factious  turbulence  of  senates  and 
assemblies,  no  measure  could  be  adopted  by  one 
party,  without  being  condemned  by  another. 
Many  Athenians  disapproved  of  the  peace  of 
Nicias  ;5  but  the  general  blaze  of  opposition 
was  eclipsed  by  the  splendour  of  one  man,  who, 
on  this  occasion,  first  displayed  those  singular 
but  unhappy  talents,  which  proved  fatal  to 
himself  and  to  his  country.  Alcibiades  had  not 
yet  reached  his  thirtieth  year,  the  age  required 
by  the  wisdom  of  Solon  for  being  entitled  to 
speak  in  the  assembly.  But  every  advantageous 
circumstance  of  birth  and  fortune,  talents  na- 
tural and  acquired,  accomplishments  of  mind 
and  body,  pleaded  an  exception  in  favour  of 
this  extraordinary  character,  which,  producing 
at  once  flowers  and  fruit,  united  with  the 
blooming  vivacity  of  youth,  the  ripened  wisdom 
of  experience.6 *  His  father,  the  rich  and  gene- 
rous Clinias,  derived  his  extraction  from  the 
heroic  Ajax,  and  had  distinguished  his  own  va- 
lour and  patriotism  in  the  glorious  scenes  of 
the  Persian  war.  In  the  female  line,  the  son 
of  Clinias  was  allied  to  the  eloquence  and  mag- 
nanimity of  Pericles,  who,  as  his  nearest  sur- 
viving kinsman,  was  entrusted  with  the  care  of 
his  minority.  But  the  statesman,  who  govern- 
ed with  undivided  sway  the  affairs  of  Athens 
and  of  Greece,  could  not  bestow  much  atten- 
tion on  this  important  domestic  task.  The 
tender  years  of  Alcibiades  were  committed  to 
the  illiberal  discipline  of  mercenary  preceptors ; 
his  youth  and  inexperience  were  beset  by  the 
destructive  adulation  of  servile  flatterers, — until 
the  young  Athenian,  having  began  to  relish  the 
poems  of  Homer,  the  admiration  of  which  is 

4 Thucydid.  1.  v.  p.  371. 

5 The  Greeks  sometimes  distinguished  treaties  by  the 
names  of  those  who  made  them:  the  peace  of  Cimon;  the 
peace  of  Nicias;  and,  as  we  shall  sec  hereafter,  the  peace 
of  Antalcidas. 

6 riut.  et  Nepos  in  Alcibiad. 


congenial  to  every  great  mind,  learned  from 
thence  to  despise  the  pedantry  of  the  one,  and 
to  detest  the  meanness  of  the  other.7 

From  Homer  Alcibiades  early  imbibed  that 
ambition  for  excellence  which  is  the  great  lesson 
of  the  immortal  bard.  Having  attained  the 
verge  of  manhood,  he  readily  distinguished, 
among  the  crowd  of  rhetoricians  and  sophists, 
the  superior  merit  of  Socrates,  who,  rejecting 
all  factitious  and  abstruse  studies,  confined  his 
speculations  to  matters  of  real  importance  and 
utility ; who,  having  never  travelled  to  Egypt 
and  the  East  in  search  of  mysterious  know- 
ledge, reasoned  with  an  Attic  perspicuity  and 
freedom  ; and  who,  being  unbiassed  by  the  sys- 
tem of  any  master,  and  always  master  of  him- 
self, thought,  spoke,  and  acted  with  equal  in- 
dependence and  dignity.  An  amiable  and  most 
instructive  writer,  the  disciple  and  friend  of  So- 
crates, has  left  an  admirable  panegyric  of  the 
uniform  temperance,  the  unshaken  probity,  the 
diffusive  benevolence  invariably  displayed  in 
his  virtuous  life  of  seventy  years.6  His  distin- 
guishing excellences  are  justly  appreciated  by 
Xenophon,  a scholar  worthy  of  his  master;6  but 
the  youthful  levity  of  Alcibiades  (for  youth  is 
seldom  capable  of  estimating  the  highest  of  all 
merits,  the  undeviating  tenor  of  an  innocent 
and  useful  life)  was  chiefly  delighted  with  the 
splendour  of  particular  actions.  The  eloquence, 
rather  than  the  innocence  of  Socrates,  excited 
his  admiration.  He  was  charmed  with  that  in- 
imitable raillery,  that  clear  comprehensive  logic, 
which  baffled  the  most  acute  disputants  of  the 
Athenian  schools;10  that  erect  independence 
of  mind,  which  disdained  the  insolence  of 
power,  the  pride  of  wealth,  and  the  vanity  of 
popular  fame,  was  well  fitted  to  attract  the  con- 
genial esteem  of  Alcibiades,  who  aspired  beyond 
the  beaten  paths  of  vulgar  greatness  ; nor  could 
the  gallant  youth  be  less  affected  by  the  invin- 
cible intrepidity  of  Socrates,  when,  quitting  the 
shade  of  speculation,  and  covered  with  the 
helm  and  cuirass,  he  grasped  the  massy  spear, 
and  justified  by  his  strenuous  exertion  in  the 
field  of  battle,  the  useful  lessons  of  his  philo- 
sophy. 1 1 

Socrates  in  his  turn  (since  it  is  easier  for  a 
wise  man  to  correct  the  errors  of  reason  than  to 
conquer  the  delusions  of  sentiment)  was  deeply 
affected  with  the  beauty  of  Alcibiades  ;12  a 
beauty  depending,  not  on  the  transient  flower 
of  youth,  and  the  seductive  delicacy  of  effemi- 
nate graces,  but  on  the  ineffable  harmony  of  a 
form  which  realized  the  sublime  conceptions  of 
Homer  and  Phidias  concerning  their  fabulous 
divinities,  and  which  shone  in  the  autumn  of 
life  with  undiminished  effulgence.13  The  affec- 
tion of  Socrates,  though  infinitely  removed  from 
impurity,  resembled  rather  the  ardour  of  love 


7 Plut.  in  Alcibiad. 

8 Xenoph.  Memorabil.  Socrat. 

9 See  particularly  Xenoph.  Apolog.  Socrat. 

10  Plato,  passim. 

1 1 Xenoph.  Meinornb.  Socrat.  pp.  449.  804.  818. 

12  Vid.  Xenoph.  and  Tlato,  passim.  Socrates  often  ac- 
knowledges the  danger  of  beauty,  and  its  power  over  him- 
self; but  loses  no  opportunity  to  caution  his  disciples  against 
the  shameful  passions,  and  abominable  vices,  which  flow 
from  this  fair  source.  Vid.  Memorab.  Socrat.  I.  ii.  passim 
et  1.  v.  c.  iii.  Sympos.  c.  iv.  p.  246. 

13  Plut.  in  Alcibiad. 


214 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


than  the  calm  moderation  of  friendship.  The 
sage,  whose  company  was  courted  by  his  other 
disciples,  himself  courted  the  company  of  Al- 
cibiades ; and  when  the  ungrateful  youth 
sometimes  escaped  to  his  licentious  companions, 
the  philosopher  pursued  him  with  the  eagerness 
of  a father  or  master,  anxious  to  recover  a 
fugitive  son  or  slave.1  At  the  battle  of  Potidaga 
he  saved  the  life  of  his  pupil,  and  in  order  to 
gratify  the  love  of  military  glory,  which  already 
animated  his  youthful  bosom,  the  sage  obtained 
for  Alcibiades  the  prize  of  valour,  which  the 
universal  consent  of  the  Athenians  thought  due 
to  himself.  At  the  fatal  engagement  of  Delium, 
Alcibiades,  it  is  said,  had  an  opportunity  of  re- 
turning the  more  substantial  favour,  by  saving 
the  precious  life  of  Socrates  ;2  and  it  may  well 
be  supposed  that  an  interchange  of  such  im- 
portant favours  would  straiten  the  bands  of 
their  mutual  friendship,  during  which  the 
powers  of  reason  and  fancy  were  directed,  with 
unabating  diligence,  to  improve  the  understand- 
ing, and  excite  the  virtue  of  Alcibiades. 

But  this  favourite  youth  laboured  under  a 
defect,  which  could  not  be  compensated  by  the 
highest  birth,  the  most  splendid  fortune,  the 
noblest  endowments  of  mind  and  body,  and 
even  the  inestimable  friendship  of  Socrates. 
He  wanted  an  honest3  heart.  This  we  are 
warranted  to  affirm  on  the  authority  of  con- 
temporary writers,  who  acknowledge,  that  first 
admiration,  and  then  interest,  was  the  founda- 
tion of  his  attachment  to  the  illustrious  sage, 
by  whose  instruction  he  expected  to  become, 
not  a good,  but  an  able,  man.  Some  inclination 
to  virtue  he  might,  in  such  company,  perhaps 
feel,  but  more  probably  feign ; and  the  nicest 
discernment  might  mistake  the  real  character 
of  a man,  who  could  adopt,  at  pleasure,  the 
most  opposite  manners ; and  who,  as  will  ap- 
pear from  the  subsequent  events  of  his  various 
life,  could  surpass  the  splendid  magnificence  of 
Athens,  or  the  rigid  frugality  of  Sparta  ; could 
conform,  as  interest  required,  to  the  laborious 
exercises  of  the  Thebans,  or  to  the  voluptuous 
indolence  of  Ionia ; assume  the  soft  effeminacy 
of  an  Eastern  prince,  or  rival  the  sturdy  vices 
of  the  drunken  Thracians.4 

The  first  specimen  of  his  political  conduct 
discovered  the  extraordinary  resources  of  his 
versatile  mind.  He  opposed  the  peace  of  Ni- 
cias,  as  the  work  of  a rival,  whom  he  wished 
to  disgrace.  His  ambition  longed  for  war,  and 
the  Spartans  deserved  his  resentment,  having, 
in  all  their  transactions  with  Athens,  testified 
the  utmost  respect  for  Nicias,  while  they  were 
at  no  pains  to  conceal  their  want  of  regard  for 
himself,  though  his  family  had  been  long  con- 
nected with  their  republic  by  an  intercourse  of 
hospitality,  and  he  had  endeavoured  to  strength- 
en that  connection  by  his  personal  good  offices 
to  the  Lacedaemonians  taken  in  Sphacteria. 
To  gratify  at  once  his  resentment,  his  ambition, 
and  his  jealousy,  he  determined  to  renew  the 
war  with  Sparta ; a design  by  no  means  diffi- 
cult at  the  present  juncture. 

1 Plut.  in  Alcibiad. 

2 Strabo,  p.  330.  et  Plut.  in  Alcibiad. 

3 Lysias  cont.  Alcibiad.  et  Xenoph.  Memorab.  Socrat. 
1.  i.  p.  715. 

4 Nepos  in  Alcibiad. 


n.  In  compliance  with  the  peace  of 

^ Nicias,  the  Spartans  withdrew  their 
A C*  420  *rooPs  fr°m  Amphipolis;  but  they 
could  restore  neither  that  city,  nor 
the  neighbouring  places  in  Macedon,  to  the  do- 
minion of  Athens.  The  Athenians,  agreeably 
to  the  treaty,  allowed  the  captives  taken  in 
Sphacteria  to  meet  the  longing  embraces  of 
their  kinsmen  and  friends;  but  good  policy 
forbade  their  surrendering  Pylus,  until  the 
enemy  had  performed  some  of  the  conditions 
stipulated  in  return.  Mutual  unwillingness,  or 
inability,  to  comply  with  the  articles  of  peace, 
sowed  the  seeds  of  animosity,  which  found  a 
favourable  soil  in  both  republics.  The  au- 
thority of  those  magistrates,  who  supported  the 
pacific  measures  of  Nicias  and  Pleistoanax,  had 
expired.  The  Spartan  youth  wished,  by  new 
hostilities,  to  cancel  the  memory  of  a war,  which 
had  been  carried  on  without  profit,  and  ter- 
minated with  dishonour.  But  the  wiser  part 
perceived  that  better  success  could  not  be  ex- 
pected while  the  Athenians  possessed  Pylus. 
In  their  eagerness  to  recover  that  fortress,  they 
renewed  their  alliance  with  the  Thebans,  from 
whom  they  received  Panactum,  which  they 
hoped  to  exchange  for  Pylus;  forgetting,  in 
this  transaction,  an  important  clause  in  their 
treaty  with  Athens,  “ that  neither  of  the  con- 
tracting powers  should,  without  mutual  com- 
munication and  consent,  conclude  any  new 
alliance.”  The  Thebans  rejoiced  in  the  pros- 
pect of  embroiling  the  affairs  of  Athens  and 
Sparta;  and  the  Corinthians,  guided  by  the 
same  hostile  views,  readily  concurred  with  the 
Thebans,  and  openly  re-entered  into  the  Lace- 
daemonian confederacy.5 

Having  concluded  this  negotia- 
Ulynap.  tion,  tke  Spartans  who  yielded  to 

AC*P*  A90  none  art  dissembling, 

A.  U.  . despatched  ambassadors  to  Athens, 
excusing  what  they  termed  an  apparent  in- 
fringement of  the  treaty,  and  requesting  that 
state  to  accept  Panactum  (which  had  been 
carefully  dismantled)  in  exchange  for  Pylus. 
The  senate  of  Athens  heard  their  proposal 
without  suspicion,  especially  as  they  declared 
themselves  invested  with  full  powers  to  em- 
brace every  reasonable  plan  of  present  accom- 
modation and  permanent  friendship.  It  now 
remained  for  the  ambassadors  to  propose  their 
demand  in  the  popular  assembly,  which,  they 
had  reason  to  hope,  might  be  deceived  still 
more  easily  than  the  senate.  But  in  this  ex- 
pectation they  were  disappointed  by  a con- 
trivance of  Alcibiades,  no  less  singular  than 
audacious.  Having  invited  the  ambassadors 
to  an  entertainment,  during  which  he  talked 
of  their  republic  with  more  than  his  wonted 
respect,  and  testified  the  utmost  solicitude  for 
the  success  of  their  negotiation,  he  observed  to 
them,  that  one  circumstance  gave  him  much 
concern,  their  having  mentioned  full  powers. 
They  must  beware  of  repeating  that  error  in 
the  assembly,  because  the  natural  rapacity  of 
the  populace,  apprized  of  that  circumstance, 
would  not  fail  to  insist  on  such  conditions  as 
the  honour  of  Sparta  could  not  possibly  comply 


5  Thucydid.  1.  v.  passim. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


215 


XVIII.] 

with.  If  they  concealed  the  extent  of  their 
commission,  the  declaring  of  which  could  only 
serve  to  indicate  timidity  on  the  one  side,  and 
to  provoke  insolence  on  the  other,  he  pledged 
himself  to  obtain  the  recovery  of  Pylus,  and 
the  gratification  of  their  utmost  hopes.  On  this 
occasion  the  Spartans  injudiciously  confided  in 
a man,  who  had  been  irritated  by  the  former 
neglect  and  ingratitude  of  their  country.  When 
they  appeared  next  day  in  the  assembly,  Alci- 
biades  demanded,  with  a loud  voice,  the  object 
and  extent  of  their  commission.  According  to 
the  concerted  plan,  they  denied  their  having 
full  powers.  The  artful  Athenian,  affecting  a 
transport  of  indignation,  arraigned  the  audacity 
and  baseness  of  a people  by  whom  his  own  un- 
suspecting temper  had  been  egregiously  abused. 
“But  yesterday  they  declared  their  full  powers 
in  the  senate;  they  denied  to-day  what  yester- 
day they  displayed  with  ostentation.  Such  (I 
now  perceive  it)  is  the  usual  duplicity  of  their 
republic.  It  is  thus  they  have  restored  Am- 
phipolis.  It  is  thus,  Athenians ! they  have  re- 
stored the  neighbouring  towns  in  Macedon : it 
is  thus  they  have,  indeed,  put  you  in  possession 
of  Panactum,  but  with  demolished  walls ; and 
after  concluding  an  alliance  with  Athens,  rati- 
fied by  solemn  oath,  most  treacherously  and 
daringly  infringed  it,  by  entering  into  a league 
with  Thebes,  your  determined  and  inveterate 
enemy.  Can  you  still,  men  of  Athens ! tamely 
submit  to  such  indignities?  Do  you  not  expel 
such  traitors  (pointing  to  the  ambassadors)  from 
your  presence,  and  from  your  city?”  This  ex- 
traordinary harangue  totally  disconcerted  the 
Spartans.  Had  their  confusion  allowed  them 
to  extenuate  their  fault  by  declaring  the  truth, 
the  least  reflection  must  have  suggested,  that 
Alcibiades  would  represent  their  simple  story 
as  a new  turn  of  ingenious  artifice.  They  re- 
tired abruptly  from  the  assembly  ;6  Nicias,  and 
the  other  partizans  of  Sparta,  shared  their  dis- 
grace; and  the  Athenians  were  soon  afterwards 
persuaded  by  Alcibiades  to  embrace  the  Argive 
alliance.7 

It  might  be  expected  that  the  weight  of  such 
a powerful  confederacy  should  have  speedily 
crushed  the  debility  of  Sparta,  already  ex- 
hausted by  the  former  war.  But  the  military 
q.  operations  of  Greece  depended  less 

xc^2  on  the  relative  strength  of  contend- 

a’c  419  powers,  than  on  the  alternate 
preponderance  of  domestic  factions. 
In  the  year  following  the  treaty,  the  Athenians 
sent  a small  body  of  troops  to  assist  their  Pelo- 
ponnesian allies  in  the  reduction  of  Epidaurus, 
Tegea,  and  other  hostile  cities  in  Argolis  and 
Arcadia.  Yet  in  the  ensuing  year  when  the 
Spartans,  dreading  the  loss  of  some  cities,  and 
the  defection  of  others,  made  a vigorous  effort 
to  retrieve  their  authority  in  Peloponnesus,  the 
Athenians  alone  discovered  little  inclination, 
and  exerted  no  activity,  to  obstruct  their  mea- 
sures for  that  purpose.  Pleistoanax  being  a 
partizan  of  the  peace  of  Nicias,  the  Spartans 
entrusted  the  command  to  Agis,  his  more  war- 


G Thucyd.  mentions  the  shock  of  an  earthquake  which 
occasioned  the  dissolution  of  that  assembly,  before  coming 
to  any  conclusion. 

7 Thucydid.  1.  v.  p.  374,  et  seq.  Plut.  in  Alcibiad. 


like  colleague.  All  Lacedsemonians  of  the 
military  age  were  summoned  to  the  field.  The 
dangerous  expedient  of  arming  the  Helots  was 
adopted  on  this  important  emergence.  The 
Spartan  allies  showed  unusual  ardour  in  their 
cause.  The  Thebans  sent  ten  thousand  foot, 
and  one  thousand  horsemen  ;8  the  Corinthians 
two  thousand  heavy-armed  men ; theMegarians 
almost  an  equal  number;  the  ancient  cities  of 
Pallend  and  Sicyon  in  Achaia  gave  a powerful 
and  ready  assistance;  while  the  small,  but 
generous  republic  of  Phlius,  whose  territory, 
bordering  on  Argolis,  was  appointed  for  the 
rendezvous  of  the  confederates,  took  the  field 
with  the  whole  body  of  citizens  and  slaves 
capable  of  bearing  arms.9 
Olvmo  The  Argives  observed  the  ap- 

xc  2 proaching  storm,  and  prepared  to 

A *C*418  res*s^  The  Cleans  and  Man- 
tinaeans  joined  them;  and  although 
the  Athenians  were  long  expected  in  vain,  the 
Argives  did  not  lose  courage,  but  boldly  took 
the  field  to  oppose  the  invaders.  The  skilful 
movements  of  king  Agis  intercepted  their  return 
to  Argos;  the  high  grounds  above  them  were 
occupied  by  the  Corinthians  and  Phliasians; 
their  retreat  towards  Nemea  was  cut  off  by  the 
Boeotians  and  Megarians.  A battle  seemed  in- 
evitable in  the  winding  vale  of  Argos;  but  it  is 
easier  to  admire,  than  explain,  the  subsequent 
conduct  of  either  army.  Whether  the  Argive 
commanders19  were  disconcerted  by  the  judi- 
cious position  of  the  enemy,  or  that  compassion 
touched  their  minds  on  perceiving  such  nu- 
merous bodies  of  men,  chiefly  natives  of  the 
same  peninsula,  sprung  from  the  same  blood, 
and  speaking  the  same  Doric  tongue,  prepared 
to  imbrue  their  parricidal  hands  in  kindred 
blood ; or  that,  being  secretly  partizans  of  aris- 
tocracy,* 11 they  were  unwilling  to  come  to  ex- 
tremities with  Sparta;  it  is  certain,  that  instead 
of  joining  battle,  they  entered  into  conference, 
with  the  Lacedaemonian  king.  In  consequence 
of  this  unexpected  measure,  a truce  was  con- 
cluded between  the  chiefs,  without  the  concur- 
rence or  knowledge  of  the  officers  or  troops  in 
either  army.  The  Argives,  Thrasyllus  and 
Alciphron,  engaged  that  their  countrymen 
should  give  complete  satisfaction  for  the  inju- 
ries of  which  they  were  accused;  and  king 
Agis,  whose  authority,  by  the  Spartan  laws, 
was  absolute  in  the  field,  led  off  his  obsequious 
army. 

Whatever  might  be  the  cause  of  this  mea- 
sure, it  occasioned  (after  the  first  pause  of  silent 
astonishment)  universal  discontent,  followed  by 
loud  and  licentious  clamours.  The  Spartans 
complained,  “ That,  after  assembling  such  a 
body  of  men  as  had  scarcely  ever  been  collected 
in  Peloponnesus,  whose  attachment  to  their 


8 They  had,  however,  but  five  hundred  horses;  • xvrttf 
5r£vr«5<o(rio»  xoei  otvjjrjroj  i<roi.  Perhaps  tho  «v<7rjro«,  those 
not  provided  with  horses,  served  ns  attendants  on  the  horse- 
men. The  mixing  of  light  infantry  with  the  cavalry  was 
frequent  in  later  times  ; but  of  this  hereafter. 

9 Thucydid.  1.  v.  p.  384,  et  seq. 

10  Or  rather  Thrusyllus,  who  was  one  of  five  generals,  but 
who  seems  to  have  enjoyed  some  pre-eminence  over  his 
colleagues.  Perhaps  it  was  his  turn  to  command. 

11  Alciphron,  who,  with  Thrasyllus,  was  the  principal 
agent  in  this  affair,  was  the  “Trgo^ivog  AoexEJoeijttoi/Kuv,” 
the  public  host  of  the  Lacedaemonians.  Thucydid.  p.  386. 


216 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


cause  was  ardent,  whose  numbers  and  courage 
were  invincible,  and  after  surrounding  «their 
enemies  on  every  side,  and  depriving  them  of 
every  resource,  the  glorious  hope,  or  rather 
certainty,  of  the  most  complete  and  important 
victory,  should  have  been  sacrificed,  in  one 
moment,  by  the  caprice,  the  cowardice,  or  the 
corruption  of  their  general.”  The  Argives 
lamented,  “ That  their  numerous  enemies, 
whom  they  had  a fair  opportunity  of  engaging 
in  their  own  country,  should  have  been  allowed 
to  escape  from  their  hands  by  a hasty  and  ill- 
judged  composition.”  Nor  did  they  confine 
their  resentment  to  vain  complaints.  The  most 
daring  or  most  seditious  attacked  the  houses 
of  Thrasyllus  and  Alciphron.  The  rest  soon 
joined  in  the  tumult.  The  effects  of  the  gene- 
rals were  plundered  or  confiscated;  and  their 
lives  were  saved,  with  difficulty,  by  the  re- 
spected sanctuary  of  Argive  Juno. 

Though  the  Greeks,  and  indeed 
the  ancients  in  general,  seldom 
employed  resident  ambassadors  in 
foreign  states,  Alcibiades  was  then 
invested  with  that  character  at  Argos.  His 
activity  would  not  fail  to  promote  the  popular 
tumult,  in  which  his  own  and  the  Athenian 
interest  was  concerned.  On  a future  occasion 
he  boasted,  that,  chiefly  at  his  instigation,  the 
Argives  and  their  allies  were  persuaded  to 
break  the  truce;  a measure  greatly  facilitated 
by  the  long-expected  arrival  of  the  Athenian 
transports,  conveying  a reinforcement  of  twelve 
hundred  soldiers,  and  a body  of  three  hundred 
cavalry.  Encouraged  by  this  event,  the  Argives, 
regardless  of  the  truce,  attacked  the  ancient 
and  wealthy  city  of  Orchomenus  in  Arcadia, 
which,  after  a feeble  resistance,  submitted  to 
their  arms.  They  next  proceeded  to  lay  siege 
to  the  neighbouring  town  of  Tegea,  a design 
extremely  contrary  to  the  inclination  of  the 
Eleans,  who  were  eager  to  chastise  the  in- 
habitants of  Lepreum,  a district  on  their  own 
frontier.  The  Argives,  however,  paid  no  re- 
gard to  their  demands;  and  the  Eleans, offended 
by  this  instance  of  contempt,  returned  home  in 
disgust. 

The  Lacedaemonians  learned  with  indigna- 
tion the  submission  of  Orchomenus,  the  siege 
of  Tegea,  and  the  open  infraction  of  the  treaty. 
They  had  formerly  murmured  against  the  im- 
prudent or  perfidious  measures  of  king  Agis; 
but  when  they  felt  the  effects  of  his  miscon- 
duct, their  resentment  became  outrageous.  In 
the  first  emotions  of  their  animosity,  they  deter- 
mined to  destroy  his  house,  and  to  subject  him 
to  a fine  of  several  thousand  pounds  sterling, 
which,  in  all  probability,  he  would  have  been 
unable  to  pay.  But  his  eloquence  and  address 
appeased  the  general  clamour;  and,  as  the  anger 
of  popular  assemblies  is  easily  converted  into 
pity,  he  was  again  taken  into  favour.  His 
known  talents  for  war  recommended  him  to 
the  command  of  the  army ; and  he  assured  his 
countrymen,  that  his  future  services  should 
speedily  wipe  off*  the  stain  from  his  character. 
The  Spartans,  however,  first  elected  on  this 
occasion  ten  counsellors  to  attend  their  kings 
in  the  field,  to  restrain  their  too  precipitate  re- 
solves, and  control  their  too  absolute  authority. 


[Chap 

Having  taken  this  precaution,  the  necessity 
of  which  seemed  justified  by  recent  experience, 
they  summoned  the  assistance  of  their  allies, 
whose  ardour  to  renew  hostilities  was  equal  to 
their  own.  They  proceeded  with  a numerous 
army  (though  inferior  to  that  formerly  col- 
lected, as  their  confederates  beyond  the  Isthmus 
had  not  yet  time  to  join  them,)  and  marched 
directly  to  the  town  of  Mantinsea,  expecting 
either  to  take  that  place,  or  to  oblige  the  enemy 
to  defend  it,  by  withdrawing  their  troops  from 
the  siege  of  Tegea.  The  approach  of  the  Ar- 
gives prevented  the  surprise  of  Mantinaea;  and 
both  armies,  whose  ambition  or  resentment  had 
been  so  lately  disappointed  of  an  opportunity 
to  display  their  valour  or  their  fury,  eagerly 
prepared  for  an  engagement. 

According  to  ancient  custom,  the  leaders  of 
the  several  nations  addressed  their  respective 
troops.  The  Mantin8eans*were  animated  “ by 
the  sight  of  their  city,  for  the  defence  of  which, 
as  well  as  for  the  safety  of  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren, they  were  exhorted  valiantly  to  contend. 
The  event  of  the  battle  must  determine  the  im- 
portant alternative  of  dominion  and  servitude  ; 
dominion  which  they  had  lately  assumed  over 
various  cities  in  Arcadia,  and  servitude,  which 
they  had  already  suffered  under  the  cruel  ty- 
ranny of  Sparta.”  The  Argives  were  reminded 
“ of  their  ancient  pre-eminence  in  Peloponnesus, 
which  they  had  recently  recovered,  and  which 
their  honour  was  now  called  to  maintain.  They 
were  reminded  of  the  long  and  bloody  wars 
which  they  had  formerly  carried  on,  in  order  to 
repel  the  usurpation  of  a powerful  and  ambi- 
tious neighbour.  This  was  the  same  enemy 
who  actually  provoked  their  arms,  and  gave 
them  an  opportunity  of  revenging,  in  one  day 
the  accumulated  injustice  of  many  centuries.” 
The  Athenians  heard,  and  repeated,  “ That  it 
was  glorious  to  march  at  the  head  of  gallant 
and  faithful  allies, > and  to  show  themselves  de- 
serving of  their  hereditary  renown.  They 
yielded  to  none  in  bravery ; their  power  was  un- 
rivalled ; and  when  they  had  overcome  the  La- 
cedaemonians, even  in  the  Peloponnesus,  their 
dominion  would  be  more  extensive  and  secure.” 

The  Spartans  briefly  exhorted  their  followers, 
and  each  other,  “to  exert  that  innate  valour 
which  had  ever  animated  their  breasts,  and 
which  could  receive  no  additional  force  from  a 
tedious  display  of  useless  words.”  Thus  say- 
ing, they  marched  with  a slow  and  firm  step, 
regulated  by  the  sound  of  the  flute,  to  meet  the 
impetuous  onset1  of  the  Argives  and  Athenians. 
Above  a thousand  of  the  former,  chosen  from 
the  flower  of  the  noblest  youth  of  Argos,  had 
been  employed,  since  the  first  dissensions  occa- 
sioned by  the  peace  of  Nicias,  in  the  constant 
exercise  of  arms,  in  order  to  maintain  the  ho- 
nourable pretensions  of  their  country.  They 
behaved  with  signal  bravery.  The  Athenians 


1 The  admirable  verses  of  Milton,  who  was  a diligent 
reader  of  Thucydides,  are  the  best  commentary  on  this  battle. 

Anon  they  move 

In  perfect  phalanx  to  the  Dorian  mood 
Of  flutes  and  soft  recorders,  such  as  raised 
To  height  of  noblest  temper  heroes  old, 

Arming  to  battle ; and  instead  of  rage, 

Deliberate  valour  breathed  firm  and  unmoved,  &e. 

Par.  Lost,  b.  i. 


Olymp. 
xc.  3. 

A.  C.  418. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


XV11I.] 

were  not  wanting  to  their  ancient  fame.  The 
Mantinosans  strenuously  defended  every  thing 
most  dear  to  them.  But  the  allied  army  had 
been  considerably  weakened  by  the  desertion  of 
the  Eleans;  and  the  martial  enthusiasm  of  king 
Agis,  seconded  by  the  persevering  valour  of  the 
Spartans,2  decided  the  fortune  of  the  battle. 
The  allies  were  repulsed,  broken,  thrown  into 
disorder,  and  put  to  flight.  The  Spartans,  un- 
willing to  irritate  their  despair,  or  supersti- 
tiously  observing  an  ancient  maxim,  which 
enjoined  them  “ to  make  a bridge  for  a flying 
enemy,”  did  not  continue  the  pursuit,  but 
speedily  returned  home  to  celebrate  the  Car- 
nean  festival,  rejoicing  in  having  restored  the 
lustre  of  their  arms,  and  recovered  their  autho- 
rity in  the  Peloponnesus. 

This,  in  fact,  proved  the  immediate  conse- 
quence of  a battle,  which  was  not  so  bloody  as 
might  have  been  expected,  the  vanquished  hav- 
ing lost  eleven,  and  the  victors  only  three,  hun- 
dred. But  the  revolutions  of  Greece  chiefly 
depended  on  the  fluctuating  politics  of  domestic 
factions.  The  Spartans  had  a numerous  party 
in  Argos  itself,  who,  emboldened  by  the  recent 
victory  of  their  friends,  immediately  took  arms, 
abolished  the  popular  government,  destroyed 
the  partisans  of  Athens,  abjured  the  league 
with  that  state,  and  entered  into  a new  con- 
federacy with  Sparta.  Thfs  event  happened  a 
few  weeks  after  the  engagement,  and  towards 
the  close  of  the  fourteenth  winter  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian war.  During  the  two  following 
years,  Argos  paid  dearly  for  a moment  of  tran- 
sient splendour,  having  undergone  three  bloody 
revolutions,  which  renewed  the  atrocities  of 
Corcyrean  sedition.  The  contest  ended,  as  in 
Corcyra,  in  favour  of  the  Athenians  and  de- 
mocracy. 

The  affairs  of  the  Peloponnesus  had  long 
occupied,  without  engrossing,  the  attention  of 
Athens.  The  year  preceding  her  alliance  with 
Argos,  the  Athenians  reduced  the  rebellious 
city  of  Scione,  in  the  peninsula  of  Pallene, 
against  which  their  resentment  had  been  pro- 
voked to  the  utmost  fury,  because  the  Scioneans, 
though  inhabiting  a country  almost  surrounded 
by  the  sea,  had  defied  the  naval  power  of 
Athens,  and,  amidst  the  misfortunes  of  that 
state,  revolted  to  her  enemies.  The  citizens  of 
Sciond  became  the  victims  of  a revenge  equally 
cruel  and  imprudent.  The  males,  above  the 
age  of  puberty,  were  put  to  the  sword  ; the 
women  and  children  dragged  into  servitude ; 


2 If  the  text  is  not  corrupt,  the  words  of  Thucydides  are 
very  remarkable  : A/.A.K  yxKurrx  Sy  xxtx  ttxvtx  tij  tyart- 
iptx  AaxiSxiyiviot  s kctrirwievTis,  rt)  stv&gust  oujg 

»<r<rov  TTtgiyivoysvoi.  p.  394.  “ That  the  Lacedaemonians, 
exceedingly  inferior  as  they  appeared  on  this  occasion  to 
the  enemy  in  military  skill,  showed  themselves  as  much  su- 
perior to  them  in  true  manly  courage.”  It  appears  from  the 
description  of  the  battle,  that  the  Lnccdtemonians  were  de- 
fective, not  jn  skill,  hut  in  discipline.  In  approaching  the 
enemy,  their  right  win?  extended  too  fnr,  which  frequently 
happened  from  the  desire  of  every  soldier  to  cover  his  un- 
armed side  by  the  shield  of  the  next  person  on  his  right. 
In  consequence  of  this  tendency,  the  Laccda>monian  left 
wing  was  over-reached  by  the  enemy’s  right.  Agis  ordered 
the  Skiritte  and  Brasidians  to  whoel  from  tlu-ir  places  on  the 
right,  and  lengthen  the  front  of  the  left  wing  : commanding 
the  battalions  of  Hipponoidas  and  Aristocles  to  fill  up  the 
vacuity  occasioned  by  this  movement.  But  these  generals 
absolutely  refused  to  obey  orders,  and  were  afterwards  ba 
nished  Sparta  on  that  account.  Thucydid.  p.  393,  et  6eq 


2 1 1* 

the  name  and  honours  of  the  city  extinguished 
for  ever ; and  the  territory  planted  with  a new 
colony,  consisting  chiefly  of  Platsean  exiles. 
These  atrocious  cruelties  alarmed  the  terror, 
exasperated  the  resentment,  and  invigorated  the 
resistance,  of  the  neighbouring  republics  Their 
defence  was  undertaken  by  Perdiccas,  king  of 
Macedon,  whom  the  Athenians  therefore  inter- 
dicted the  use  of  the  Grecian  seas.  But  that 
ambitious  people  made  so  little  progress  in  re- 
ducing the  Macedonian  coast,  that  they  finally 
desisted  from  this  design,  contenting  themselves 
with  guarding  those  places  which  still  preserv- 
ed their  allegiance,  with  re-establishing  do- 
mestic order,  and  with  collecting  the  customary 
tribute  from  their  numerous  colonies  and  de- 
pendencies. 

The  productive  industry  diffused  through  all 
branches  of  the  community,  the  equality  of 
private  fortune,  the  absence  of  ha- 
xcf  *1^*  bitual  luxury,  together  with  the 

A C *41  natural  advantages  of  their  soil  and 
climate,  enabled  the  Greeks  to  flou- 
rish amidst  furious  and  bloody  wars.  After  a 
short  period  of  tranquillity,  their  exuberant 
population  overflowed,  and  was  obliged  to  dis- 
charge itself  in  foreign  colonies  or  conquests. 
Such  a period  Athens  enjoyed  for  five  years 
after  the  peace  of  Nicias,  as  the  Macedonian 
and  Argive  wars  only  employed  her  activity, 
without  exhausting  her  strength.  The  necessity 
of  exerting  her  superfluous  vigour  in  some 
useful  and  honourable  design,  was  fatally  ex- 
perienced, in  the  year  following,  by  the  unfor- 
tunate island  of  Melos,  one  of  the  largest  of  the 
Cyclades,  lying  directly  opposite  to  the  Cape 
of  Malea,  the  southern  promontory  of  Laconia. 

This  beautiful  island,  sixty  miles  in  circum- 
ference, of  a circular  form,  of  an  agreeable  tem- 
perature, and  affording,  in  peculiar  perfection,3 
the  usual  productions  of  a fine  climate,  had 
early  invited  the  colonization  of  the  Spartans; 
and  the  happy  settlement  had  enjoyed  political 
independence  for  seven  hundred  years.  The 
strength  and  importance  of  the  capital,  which 
had  the  same  name  with  the  island,  may  be  un- 
derstood by  the  armament,  of  thirty  ships,  and 
near  three  thousand  soldiers,  which  the  Athe- 
nians brought  against  it.  Before  they  com- 
menced hostilities,  either  by  attacking  the  city, 
or  by  ravaging  the  country,  they  sent  ambas- 
sadors to  the  Melians,  in  order  to  persuade  them 
to  surrender,  without  incurring  the  danger  or 
the  punishment  of  an  unequal,  and  probably  a 
fruitless,  resistance.  The  cautious  islanders, 
well  acquainted  with  the  eloquence  and  address 
of  the  enemy  with  whom  they  had  to  contend, 
denied  them  the  permission  to  speak  before  the 
public  assembly,  but  appointed  a deputation  of 
the  magistrates,  to  hear  and  examine  their  de- 
mands. The  Athenian  ambassadors  were  re- 
ceived in  the  senate-house,  where  a most  im- 
portant and  interesting  conference  was  held,4 
which,  while  it  engages  our  compassion  for  the 


3 The  island  of  Melos  is  every  where  impregnated  with 
iron,  bitumen,  sulphur,  and  olher  minerals.  It  is  described 
by  Tourtiefori  us  a great  laboratory.  Its  subterranean  fires 
are  supposed  to  give  peculiar  force  and  flavour  to  its  wines 
and  fruits. 

4 Thucydid.  1.  v.  p.  100,  et  seq. 


218 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


unhappy  victims  of  ambition,  explains  the  pre- 
vailing sentiments  and  opinions  of  the  Greeks 
in  matters  of  war  and  government,  and  illus- 
trates the  daring  injustice  of  the  Athenian  re- 
public. The  ambassadors  began  the  dialogue, 
by  observing,  “ That  since  the  distrust  of  the 
Melians,  probably  arising  from  the  conscious 
weakness  of  their  cause,  had  refused  them  the 
liberty  of  speaking,  in  a continued  oration,  to 
the  assembly  of  the  people,  they  should  use  that 
mode  of  conference  which  seemed  most  agree- 
able to  the  inclinations  of  their  adversaries, 
and  patiently  listen  to  the  objections  which 
might  occur  to  any  part  of  their  discourse.” 
Melians.  “ The  proposal  is  just  and  reasonable; 
but  you  have  come  hither  with  an  armed  force, 
which  renders  you  judges  in  your  own  cause. 
Though  vanquished  in  debate,  you  may  still 
conquer  by  arms  ; but  if  we  yield  in  argument, 
we  must  submit  to  slavery.”  Athenians.  “ If 
you  intend  to  talk  of  matters  foreign  to  the  sub- 
ject, we  have  done.”  M.  “ It  is  surely  excusable 
for  those,  whose  all  is  at  stake,  to  turn  them- 
' selves  on  every  side,  and  to  suggest  their  sus- 
picions and  their  doubts.  But  let  the  conference 
be  carried  on  in  the  manner  which  you  have 
proposed.”  A.  “ And,  on  both  sides,  let  all 
superfluous  arguments  be  omitted ; either  that 
we,  having  repelled  and  conquered  the  Persians, 
are  entitled  to  govern  the  Greeks  ; or  that  you , 
being  a colony  of  Lacedaemon,  are  entitled  to 
independence.  Let  us  speak  like  men  of  sense 
and  experience,  who  know  that  the  equal  rules 
of  justice  are  observed  only  by  men  of  an  equal 
condition  ; but  that  it  belongs  to  the  strong  to 
command,  and  to  the  weak  to  obey ; because 
such  is  the  interest  of  both.”  M.  “ How  can 
our  interest  and  yours  coincide  ?”  A.  “ By  sub- 
mission, you  will  save  your  lives  ; and  by  pre- 
serving you,  we  will  increase  our  own  power.” 
M.  “ Consider  (for  this  also  must  be  mentioned, 
since  disregarding  justice,  you  are  governed 
only  by  utility ) that  your  unprovoked  invasion 
of  the  Melians  will  rouse  the  resentment  of 
all  Greece ; will  render  all  neutral  states  your 
enemies ; and,  if  ever  your  empire  should  de- 
cline, (as  what  human  grandeur  is  not  subject 
to  decay  ?)  will  expose  you  to  a dreadful  and 
just  punishment.”  A.  “ The  continuance  of  our 
empire  is  the  care  of  fortune  and  the  gods  ; the 
little  that  man  can  do  to  preserve  it,  we  will , 
not  neglect.  The  liberty  of  Melos  offends  the 
pride  of  the  neighbouring  isles,  and  stirs  them 
to  rebellion.  The  interest  of  our  present  power 
must  prevail  over  the  apprehension  of  future 
danger.”  M.  “While  the  Athenians  are  thus 
prepared  to  incur  danger  for  the  preservation 
of  empire,  and  their  subject  islands  to  defy  death 
for  the  hopes  of  freedom,  would  it  not  be  the 
basest  and  most  infamous  cowardice  in  us,  who 
have  long  enjoyed  liberty,  to  decline  any  toil  or 
d anger  for  maintaining  the  most  valuable  and  the 
most  glorious  of  all  human  possessions  ?”  A. 
“We  are  not  come  hither  to  dispute  the  prize 
of  valour,  but  to  offer  terms  of  safety.”  M. 
w The  event  of  war  is  uncertain ; there  is  some 
hope  in  resistance,  none  in  submission.”  A. 

“ Flattering  hope  often  deceives  the  prosperous 
and  the  powerful,  but  always  destroys  the  weak 
and  unfortunate,  who,  disregarding  natural 


[Chap. 

means  of  preservation,  have  recourse  to  idl« 
dreams  of  the  fancy,  to  omens,  oracles,  divina- 
tion, and  all  the  fallacious  illusions  of  a vain 
superstition.”  M.  “We  know  that  it  will  be 
difficult  for  the  Melians  to  “contend  with  the 
strength  and  fortune  of  Athens : yet  we  trust 
that  the  gods  will  support  the  justice  of  our 
cause ; and  that  the  Lacedaemonians,  from 
whom  we  are  descended,  moved  by  a sense  of 
honour,  will  defend  their  own  blood.”  A.  “ Be- 
lieve not  that  Athens  will  be  forsaken  by  the 
gods.  Ambition  is  implanted  in  man.  The 
wisdom  of  providence,  not  an  Athenian  decree, 
has  established  the  inevitable  law,  that  the 
strong  should  govern  the  weak.  As  to  the  as- 
sistance of  the  Lacedaemonians,  we  sincerely 
congratulate  your  happy  ignorance  of  their 
principles.  Whatever  equity  prevails  in  their 
domestic  institutions,  they  have  but  one  rule 
respecting  their  neighbours,  which  is,  to  regu- 
late all  their  transactions  with  them  by  their 
own  conveniency.”  M.  “ It  is  chiefly  that  con- 
sideration which  affords  us  hope,  that  they  will 
not  forsake  an  island  which  they  have  planted, 
lest  they  should  be  regarded  as  traitors,  than 
which  nothing  could  be  more  unfavourable  to 
their  interest,  especially  since  Melos,  lying  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  their  own  territories, 
would  be  a dangerous  possession  in  the  hands 
of  an  enemy.”  A.  “ The  timid  caution  of  the 
Lacedemonians  seldom  takes  the  field,  even 
against  their  inveterate  enemies  in  the  Pelopon- 
nesus, unless  when  their  standard  is  attended 
by  numerous  allies.  It  is  not  to  be  imagined 
that,  for  the  safety  of  a colony,  they  will  alone 
cross  the  Cretan  sea,  to  contend  with  the  supe- 
rior navy  of  Athens.”  M.  “ Should  the  Lace- 
daemonians be  averse  to  sail,  they  can  transport 
others  in  their  stead ; and  the  extent  of  the 
Cretan  sea  may  elude  the  vigilance  of  your 
ships  ; or  should  that  probability  fail,  the  Lace- 
daemonians may  attack  yGur  subjects  on  the 
continent,  and  accomplish  the  designs  of  the 
warlike  Brasidas.”  A.  “ You  are  determined, 
it  seems,  to  learn,  by  fatal  experience,  that  fear 
never  compelled  the  Athenians  to  desist  from 
their  designs ; especially  never  to  raise  the  siege 
of  any  place  which  they  had  once  invested. 
For  during  the  whole  of  this  long  conference, 
you  have  not  mentioned  a single  particular  ca- 
pable of  affording  any  just  ground  of  confi- 
dence. Deceived  by  the  splendour  of  words, 
you  talk  of  honour  and  independence,  rejecting 
the  offers  of  a powerful  state,  whose  arms  you 
are  unable  to  resist,  and  whose  protection  you 
might  obtain  at  the  expense  of  a moderate 
tribute.  Lest  shame  should,  have  any  share  in 
this  dangerous  behaviour,  we  shall  leave  you 
to  consult  privately,  only  reminding  you  once 
more,  that  your  present  deliberations  involve 
the  fate  of  your  country.” 

The  Athenian  ambassadors  retired ; and 
shortly  afterwards,  the  Melians  recalled  them, 
and  “declared  their  unanimous  resolution  not 
to  betray,  in  one  unlucky  hour,  the  liberty 
which  they  had  maintained  for  seven  hundred 
years  ; depending  on  the  vigorous  assistance  of 
their  Lacedcemonian  kinsmen,  and  trusting 
especially  in  that  divine  providence  which  had 
hitherto  most  wonderfully  preserved  them 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


219 


XIX.] 

amidst  the  general  convulsions  of  Greece.  But 
they  entreated  the  Athenians  to  accept  their 
offers  of  neutrality,  and  to  abstain  from  unpro- 
voked violence.”  The  ambassadors  prepared 
for  returning  to  the  camp,  leaving  the  commis- 
sioners with  a sarcastic  threat,  “ That  of  all 
men,  in  such  a delicate  situation,  the  Melians 
alone  thought  the  future  more  certain  than  the 
past,  and  would  grievously  suffer  for  their  folly, 
in  preferring  to  the  proposals  of  certain  and 
immediate  safety,  the  deceitfulness  of  hope,  the 
mstabilitjr  of  fortune,  and  the  vain  prospect  of 
Lacedaemonian  aid.”  The  Athenians,  irritated 
yy  opposition,  invested,  without  delay,  the  capi- 
al  of  Melos,  which  was  blocked  up  for  several 


months  by  sea  and  land.  The  besieged,  after 
suffering  cruelly  by  famine,  made  several  des- 
perate sallies,  seized  the  Athenian  magazines, 
and  destroyed  part  of  their  works.  But  to- 
wards the  end  of  winter,  their  resistance  was 
defeated  by  the  vigorous  efforts  of  the  enemy, 
combined  with  domestic  treason.  The  males 
above  the  age  of  fourteen  shared  the  unhappy 
fate  of  the  Scioneans.  The  women  and  chil- 
dren were  subjected  to  perpetual  servitude,  and 
five  hundred  new  inhabitants,  drawn  from  the 
neighbouring  colonies  of  Athens,  were  sent  to 
occupy  the  vacant  lands,  which  had  been  culti- 
vated and  adorned  for  seven  centuries  by  the 
labour  of  the  exterminated  Melians.1 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


Alcibiades  promotes  the  Sicilian  Expedition — Revolutions  in  that  Island — Embassy  to  Athens — 
Extravagant  Views  of  Alcibiades — Opposed  by  JVicias — The  Athenians  prepare  to  invade 
Sicily — Their  Armament  beheld  with  Suspicion  by  the  Italian  States — Deliberations  concerning 
the  Mode  of  carrying  on  the  War — dlcibiades  takes  Catana  by  Stratagem — His  Intrigues  in 
Messene — He  is  unseasonably  recalled  to  Athens — Charged  with  Treason  and  Impiety — Escapes 
to  Sparta — JVicias  determines  to  attack  Syracuse — Description  of  that  City — The  Athenians 
prevail  in  a Battle — Return  to  Catana  and  JVaxos. 


rpHE 


inhuman  massacre  of  the  Melians  has 
been  ascribed  by  an  instructive,  though 
often  inaccurate  biographer,2  to  the  unfeeling 
pride  of  Alcibiades.  But  more  ancient  and  au- 
thentic writers,3  whose  silence  seems  to  excul- 
pate the  son  of  Clinias  from  this  atrocious 
accusation,  represent  him  as  the  principal 
author  of  the  expedition  against  Sicily  ; an  ex- 
pedition not  more  unjust  in  its  principle  than 
fatal  in  its  consequences. 

£ The  salutary  union  between  the 

t^le  princes  of  Syracuse  and  Agri- 
1 * gentum  triumphed,  as  we  had  occa- 

sion to  relate,  over  the  ambition  and  resources 
of  Carthage.  Sicily  flourished  under  the  vir- 
tuous administration  of  Gelon4  and  Theron ; 
but  its  tranquillity  was  disturbed  by  the  dissen- 
sions of  their  immediate  successors.  Hieron 
king  of  Syracuse  proved  victorious  in  a long 
and  bloody  war,  during  which  the  incapacity 
and  misfortunes  of  his  rival  Thrasideus  em- 
boldened the  resentment  of  his  subjects,  already 
provoked  by  his  injustice  and  cruelty.5  He 
escaped  the  popular  fury,  but  fell  a victim  to 
his  own  despair ; and  the  Agrigentines  having 
expelled  the  family  of  an  odious  tyrant,  insti- 
tuted a republican  form  of  policy. 

The  false,  cruel,  and  avaricious  Hieron  (for 
such  at  least  he  is  described6  in  the  first  years 
of  his  reign)  probably  received  little  benefit 
from  the  dangerous  influence  of  prosperity. 
But  his  mind  was  not  incapable  of  reflection  ; 
and,  in  the  course  of  a long  sickness  and  con- 


1  Thucydid.  1.  v.  p.  410.  ad  fin. 

2 Plut.  in  Alcib. 

3 Thucydid.  1.  v.  Lysias  Oral.  cont.  Alcib. 

4 See  above,  p.  145. 

5 Diodor.  1.  xi.  c.  Ixl.  et  seq. 

6 Diodor.  Sic.  1.  xi.  c.  lxvi. 


finement,  he  discovered  the  temptiness  of  such 
objects  as  kings  are  taught  to  admire,  and  had 
recourse  to  the  solid  pleasures  of  the  mind. 
By  conversing  with  Grecian  philosophers,  he 
learned  the  most  important  of  all  lessons,  that 
of  conversing  with  himself ; a conversation 
which  none  but  the  most  virtuous  or  the  most 
vicious  of  men  can  long  and  frequently  main- 
tain, without  deriving  from  it  essential  profit. 
With  the  improvement  of  his  understanding, 
the  sentiments  of  Hieron  improved ; his  charac- 
ter and  manners  underwent  a total  change  ; and 
the  latter  years  of  his  reign  adorn  the  history 
of  Sicily,  and  the  age  in  which  he  lived.7  The 
poets  Simonides,  JEschylus,  and  Bacchilides, 
frequented  his  court,  and  admired  the  greatness 
of  his  mind,  rather  than  of  his  fortune.  The 
sublime  genius  of  Pindar  has  celebrated  the 
magnificent  generosity  of  his  illustrious  patron. 
And  in  an  age  when  writing  was  the  picture 
of  conversation,  because  men  talked  as  they 
needed  not  have  been  ashamed  to  write,  the 
impartial  disciple  of  Socrates,  who  had  nothing 
to  hope  or  to  fear  from  the  ashes  of  a king 
of  Sicily,  has  represented  Hieron,  in  the  dia- 
logue entitled  from  his  name,8  as  a model  of 
wisdom  and  virtue. 

p..  It  is  a mortifying  reflection  that 

xxviii^*3  ^ie  inimi^a^e  fluahties  of  a virtu- 
^cvi]1*4g6  ous  prince  should  naturally  en- 
courage the  sloth,  or  irritate  the 
vices  of  a degenerate  successor.  The  glorious 
reign  of  Hieron  was  followed  by  the  bloody 
tyranny  of  Thrasybulus ; a wretch  who,  dis- 
gracing the  throne  and  human  nature,  was  ex- 
pelled from  Sicily  by  the  just  indignation  of 


j'EIian.  1.  ix.  c.  vii. 


8 Xcnophont.  Hieron. 


220 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


his  subjects.  Resentment  is  more  permanent 
than  gratitude.  The  Syracusans  forgot  the 
fame  of  Gelon  ; they  forgot  the  recent  merit  of 
Hieron  ; and,  that  they  might  never  be  again 
subjected  to  a tyrant  like  Thrasybulus,  ex- 
changed the  odious  power  of  kings  for  the  dan- 
gerous fury  of  democracy.1 

The  inferior  cities  having  successively  imi- 
tated the  example  of  Agrigentum  and  Syracuse, 
the  Grecian  colonies  in  Sicily  experienced  the 
disorders  of  that  tumultuous  liberty  which  had 
so  long  prevailed  in  the  mother  country.  Dis- 
tracted by  internal  discord,  and  harassed  by 
external  hostility,  they  had  neither  leisure  nor 
inclination  to  attend  to  the  politics  of  Greece. 
The  republic  of  Syracuse,  which  was  alone 
capable  of  interposing,  with  effect,  in  the  quar- 
rels of  that  country,  imitated,  instead  of  op- 
posing, the  ambition  of  Athens.  Most  of  the 
Dorian  settlements  had  become  confederates, 
or  rather  tributaries,  to  the  Syracusans  ; and 
towards  the  commencement  of  the  Peloponne- 
sian war,  that  aspiring  people,  though  tom  by 
domestic  factions,  strenuously  exerted  their 
valour  against  the  Ionic  settlements  of  Leon- 
tium,  Catana,  and  Naxos. 

While  these  unhappy  islanders  struggled 
with  the  turbulence  of  a government  more 
p..  stormy  than  the  whirlpools  of 

. Scylla  and  Charybdis,  they  like- 

A d wlse  enj°yed’  h°wever,  the  peculiar 

* ' ' advantages  of  democracy ; which, 

of  all  political  constitutions,  presents  the  widest 
scope  to  the  exercise  of  superior  talents,  and 
has  always  been  the  most  productive  in  great 
men.  The  active  fermentation  of  popular 
assemblies  had  given  the  eloquence  of  a Gor- 
gias  to  Leontium,  and  the  abilities  of  a Her- 
mocrates  to  Syracuse.  In  the  sixth  year  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  the  former  came  to  Athens 
to  solicit  the  protection  of  that  republic  against 
the  unjust  usurpation  of  the  Sicilian  capital. 
His  arguments  convinced  the  judgment,  and 
the  brilliant  harmony  of  his  style  transported 
the  sensibility,  of  the  Athenians.  They  im- 
mediately despatched  twenty  ships  of  war  to 
the  assistance  of  their  Ionic  brethren.  Two 
years  afterwards  a similar  request  was  made, 
and  as  readily  complied  with  ; and  the  Athe- 
nians seemed  disposed  to  engage  with  vigour 
in  the  war,  when  the  foresight  of  Hermocrates, 
alarmed  by  the  intrusion  of  these  ambitious 
strangers,  promoted  a general  congress  of  the 
states  of  Sicily. 

This  convention  was  held  at  the 
lxxxix>  1 central  town  of  Gela  ; it  was  at- 
A C jo* 1 tended  by  the  plenipotentiaries  of 
all  the  Doric  and  Ionic  cities.  Her- 
mocrates represented  Syracuse  ; and  illustrious 
as  that  republic  was,  his  conduct  proved  him 
worthy  its  highest  honours.  While  the  repre- 
sentatives of  other  states  dwelt  on  their  par- 
ticular grievances,  and  urged  their  separate 
interests,  Hermocrates  regarded  and  enforced 
only  the  general  interest  of  Sicily.  His  argu- 
ments finally  prevailed,  and  all  parties  were 
engaged  to  terminate  their  domestic  contests, 


lest  the  whole  island  should  fall  a prey  to  a 
foreign  power.3 

01  no  But  a plan  of  union,  so  season- 

xcj  j able  and  salutary,  depended  on  the 

A C 416  transient  influence  of  a single  man, 
while  the  principles  of  discord  were 
innumerable  and  permanent.  Within  a few 
years  after  this  event,  Leontium  was  taken 
and  destroyed,  its  inhabitants  reduced  to  the 
wretched  condition  of  exiles,  and  its  confede- 
rates, the  Egestaeans,  closely  besieged  by  the 
conjunct  arms  of  Selinus  and  Syracuse.  The 
unfortunate  communities  again  sent  an  embassy 
to  Athens,  pleading  the  rights  of  consanguinity 
and  addressing  not  only  the  passions  but  the 
interest  of  their  powerful  allies.  “ The  Athe 
mans,”  they  insisted,  “ were  bound  by  every 
principle  of  sound  policy  to  repress  the  growing 
greatness  of  Syracuse,  which  must  otherwise 
become  a formidable  accession  to  the  Pelopon- 
nesian league  ; and  now  was  the  time  for  un- 
dertaking that  enterprise,  while  their  Ionian 
kinsmen  in  Sicily  were  still  capable  of  exerting 
some  vigour  in  their  own  defence.”  In  order 
to  enforce  these  arguments,  the  ambassadors  of 
Egesta  or  Segesta  gave  an  ostentatious,  and 
even  a very  false,  description  of  the  wealth  of 
their  republic ; which,  according  to  their  ac- 
count, was  capable  of  furnishing  the  whole  ex- 
pense of  the  war.  Their  fellow  citizens  at 
home  carried  on  the  deception  by  a most  un- 
justifiable artifice,  displaying  to  the  Athenian 
commissioners  sent  to  confer  with  them,  the 
borrowed  riches  of  their  neighbours,  and  raising, 
by  extraordinary  expedients,  the  sum  of  sixty 
talents  of  silver,  to  maintain,  for  a month,  an 
Athenian  fleet  of  sixty  sail,  as  if  they  had  pur- 
posed monthly  to  repeat  this  large  subsidy, 
which  at  once  exhausted  their  faculties.4 

The  arguments  of  their  Sicilian  allies  were 
doubtless  entitled  to  considerable  weight  with 
the  Athenians ; yet  various  reasons  might  have 
dissuaded  that  ambitious  people  from  under- 
taking, at  the  present  juncture,  an  expedition 
against  the  powerful  republic  of  Syracuse.  The 
cloud  of  war,  which  Pericles  saw  advancing 
with  rapid  motion  from  the  Peloponnesus,  had 
been  at  length  dispelled  by  the  valour  and  for- 
tune of  the  Athenians;  not,  however,  before 
the  arms  of  Brasidas  had  shaken  their  empire 
to  the  foundation.  The  same  storm  might  be 
again  collected,  if  the  Athenians  removed  their 
armies  from  home,  especially  if  they  were  un- 
fortunate abroad,  since  the  wounded  pride  of 
Sparta  would  eagerly  seize  the  first  opportunity 
of  revenge.  The  rebellion  of  the  Macedonian 
cities  was  still  unsubdued,  and  it  would  be 
highly  imprudent  and  dangerous,  before  re- 
covering the  allegiance  of  these  ancient  posses- 
sions, to  attempt  the  acquisition  of  new  terri- 
tories. Should  the  Athenian  expedition  against 
Sicily  be  crowned  with  the  most  flattering  suc- 
cess, it  would  still  be  difficult,  nay,  impossible, 
to  preserve  such  a distant  and  extensive  con- 
quest; but  should  this  ambitious  design  fail  in 
the  execution,  as  there  was  too  good  reason  to 
apprehend,  the  misfortunes  of  the  Athenians, 
whose  greatness  was  the  object  both  of  terror 


1 Aristot.  de  Repub.  1.  v.  c.  xii. 

2 Thucydid.  p.  290. 


3 Thucydid.  p.  290. 


4 Thucydid.  p.  444. 


HISTORY  OF  -GREECE. 


221 


XIX.] 

and  of  envy,  would  encourage  the  rebellious 
spirit  of  their  subjects  and  allies,  excite  the 
latent  animosity  of  the  Peloponnesians,  and 
reinforce  their  ancient  enemies  by  the  resent- 
ment and  hostility  of  Syracuse  and  her  con- 
federates, justly  provoked  by  the  daring  inva- 
sion of  their  island.  » 

These  prudential  considerations  were  unable 
to  cool  the  ardour  of  the  Athenian  assembly, 
inflamed  by  the  breath  of  their  favourite  Alci- 
biades.  It  is  a just  and  profound  observation 
of  Machiavel,  that  the  real  powers  of  govern- 
ment are  often  contracted  to  a narrower  point 
jn  republics  than  in  monarchies;  an  observa- 
tion which  that  sagacious  statesman  had  learn- 
ed from  the  experience  of  his  native  city,  and 
which  he  might  have  confirmed  by  the  history 
of  the  Greeks,  whose  political  measures,  and 
even  whose  national  character,  depended  on 
the  transient  influence  of  a few  individuals. 
Under  the  direction  of  Aristides  and  Themisto- 
cles,  the  Athenians  displayed  the  soundest 
policy,  adorned  by  unshaken  probity,  and  by 
heroic  valour.  Cimon  inspired  the  generous 
ambition  which  animated  his  own  breast:  a 
a dignified  grandeur  and  magnanimous  firm- 
ness distinguished  the  long  administration,  I 
had  almost  said  reign,  of  Pericles.  The  son  of 
Clinias  succeeded  to  the  power  and  authority, 
without  succeeding  to  the  virtues  of  those 
great  men,  whom  his  pride  disdained  to  imitate. 
Regardless  of  order  and  decency,  with  a licen- 
tious magnificence  most  offensive  to  the  spirit 
of  republican  equality,  he  blended  a certain 
elegance  of  manners  which  not  only  repelled 
censure,  but  attracted  applause.  Thus  dis- 
pensed from  observing  the  established  formali- 
ties of  private  life,  he  expected  that  the  glory 
of  his  administration  might  soar  above  the  ordi- 
nary dictates  of  jfolitical  prudence.5  Though 
he  preferred  what  was  useful  to  what  was  vir- 
tuous, he  preferred  what  was  brilliant  to  what 
was  useful,  and,  disdaining  the  common  gifts 
of  valour  and  fortune,  aspired  at  objects  extra- 
ordinary and  unattainable.  The  recovery  of 
the  Athenian  possessions,  and  the  re-establish- 
ment of  an  empire,  already  too  extensive,  might 
have  satisfied  the  ambition  of  a bold  and  active 
statesman.  But  the  extravagant  hopes  of  Alci- 
biades  expatiated  in  a wider  field.  The  ac- 
quisition of  Sicily  itself  he  regarded  only  as  a 
necessary  introduction  to  farther  and  more  im- 
portant conquests.  The  intermediate  situation 
of  that  beautiful  and  fertile  island  opened,  on 
the  one  hand,  an  easy  communication  with  the 
eastern  front  of  Italy,  which,  from  Brundusium 
to  the  Sicilian  frith,  was  adorned  by  populous 
and  flourishing  cities;  and  on  the  other,  afford- 
ed a short  and  safe  passage  to  the  northern 
shores  of  Africa,  which,  for  many  ages,  had 
been  cultivated  and  enriched  by  the  united  la- 
bours of  the  Greeks  and  Carthaginians.  In  his 
waking  or  sleeping  dreams,  Alcibiades  grasped 
the  wide  extent  of  those  distant  possessions,  by 
the  resources  of  which  he  expected  finally  to 
subdue  the  pertinacious  spirit,  and  obstinate 


5 See  Plut.  in  Alcibind.  Isocrat.  de  Pace;  above  all,  the 
animated  picture  in  Plato’s  Republic,  (1.  viii.  cap.  cc.  et 
•eq.,)  of  which  Alcibiades,  doubtless,  was  the  original. 


resistance,  of  the  Peloponnesians.  Thus  secure 
at  home,  and  sovereign  of  the  sea,  Athens  might 
incorporate  with  her  own  the  troops  of  the 
conquered  provinces,  and  maintain  an  unshaken 
dominion  over  the  most  delightful  portion  of 
the  earth,  while  her  fortunate  citizens,  delivered 
from  all  laborious  and  mercenary  cares,  would 
be  supported  by  the  contributions  of  subject 
nations,  and  enabled  to  display,  in  their  full 
extent,  that  taste  for  splendour  and  magnifi- 
cence, that  greatness  of  soul  and  superiority  of 
genius,  which  justly  entitled  them  to  the  empire 
of  the  world.6 

a]  Allured  by  these  extravagant,  but 

xci  2^*  flattering  prospects  of  grandeur,  the 
A C *415  -Athenians,  in  two  successive  assem- 
blies, held  at  the  short  interval  of 
five  days,  agreed  to  the  resolution  of  making 
war  against  Sicily,  and  of  raising  such  naval 
and  military  force  as  seemed  necessary  for  car- 
rying it  on  with  vigour  and  success.  While 
they  still  deliberated  on  the  latter  object,  the 
virtuous  Nicias,  who  had  been  named  with 
Alcibiades  and  Lamachus  to  the  command  of 
the  projected  armament,  omitted  nothing  that 
prudence  could  suggest,  and  patriotism  enforce, 
to  deter  his  countrymen  from  such  a dangerous 
and  fatal  design.  On  this  memorable  occasion, 
he  threw  aside  his  usual  timidity,  and  divested 
himself  of  that  rigid  regard  for  established  forms, 
which  was  natural  to  his  age  and  character. 
Though  the  assembly  was  convened  to  deter- 
mine the  proportion  of  supplies  and  troops,  and 
the  means  of  collecting  them  with  the  greatest 
expedition  and  facility,  he  ventured,  contrary 
to  ancient  custom,  to  propose  a different  sub- 
ject of  debate;  affirming,  “That  the  interest' 
of  Athens  was  concerned,  not  in  providing  the 
preparations  for  the  Sicilian  invasion,  but  in 
re-examining  the  expediency  of  <the  war.  The 
assembly  ought  not  to  be  moved  by  the  argu- 
ments and  intreaties  of  the  persecuted  Egistae- 
ans,  and  fugitive  Leontines,  whom  resentment 
had  taught  to  exaggerate,  and  misery  to  de- 
ceive. Nor  ought  the  vain  phantom  of  glory 
and  ambition  to  engage  Athens  in  a design 
perhaps  altogether  impracticable,  and,  in  the 
present  juncture,  peculiarly  unseasonable;  since 
it  would  be  madness  to  excite  the  flames  of  a 
new  war,  before  the  ashes  of  the  old  were  ex- 
tinguished. The  pleas  of  danger  and  self-de- 
fence were  in  the  highest  degree  frivolous;  for, 
should  the  dreaded  power  of  Syracuse  be  ex- 
tended over  the  whole  of  Sicily,  the  Athenians 
would  have  nothing  to  apprehend : this  event 
would  rather  increase  their  security.  In  the 
actual  state  of  the  island,  particular  cities  might 
be  persuaded  by  fear,  or  interest,  to  court  the 
protection  of  the  Peloponnesian  confederacy; 
but  the  victorious  Syracuse  would  disdain  to 
follow  the  standard  of  Sparta.  Should  the 
former  republic,  by  an  effort  of  uncommon 
generosity,  subject  the  partial  dictates  of  her 
pride  to  the  general  safety  and  honour  of  the 
Dorian  name,  sound  policy,  however,  would 
still  prevent  her  from  endangering  the  precari- 
ous empire  which  she  had  obtained  over  her 


6 Isocrat.  de  Pace.  Andocid.  Orat.  iii.  p.  269,  et  Aris- 
toph.  Vesp.  vcr.  656. 


222 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


neighbours,  by  strengthening  the  confederacy 
of  Peloponnesus,  of  which  the  avowed  design 
was  to  give  liberty  and  independence  to  the 
Grecian  cities.  Should  all  remote  views  of 
policy  be  disregarded,  yet  immediate  fear 
would  deter  the  Syracusans  from  provoking 
the  resentment  of  Athens,  the  effects  of  which 
they  had  not  as  yet  experienced,  but  which, 
being  unknown,  must  appear  the  more  formida- 
ble. It  was  evident,  therefore,  that  the  Sicilian 
expedition  might  be  omitted  without  danger; 
but  if  this  enterprise,  which  had  been  hastily 
resolved  on,  were  injudiciously  executed,  or  if 
any  of  those  misfortunes  should  happen,  which 
are  but  too  frequent  in  war,  the  Athenians 
would  be  exposed  not  only  to  danger,  but  to 
disgrace  and  ruin.  The  result  of  such  an  im- 
portant deliberation  ought  not  to  be  committed 
to  the  rash  decision  of  youthful  levity ; which 
viewed  the  Sicilian  war,  as  it  did  every  other 
object,  through  the  delusive  medium  of  hope, 
vanity,  and  ambition ; and,  totally  disregarding 
the  expense  and  danger  to  be  incurred  by  the 
republic,  considered  only  the  profits  of  military 
command,  which  might  repair  the  wreck  of 
exhausted  fortunes,  and  supply  a new  fund  for 
the  indulgence  of  extravagant  and  licentious 
pleasures.  He  had  in  his  eye  a youth  of  that 
description,  the  principal  author  of  the  expedi- 
tion, who  was  surrounded  by  a numerous  band 
of  adherents,  determined  to  applaud  his  dis- 
course and  to  promote  his  measures.  It  be- 
came the  wisdom  and  dignity  of  the  assembly 
to  resist  with  firmness  that  juvenile  conspiracy. 
In  such  a dangerous  crisis,  it  was  the  duty  of 
the  president  to  dispense  with  ordinary  forms, 
and  to  act,  not  merely  as  the  instrument,  but 
as  the  physician,  of  a diseased  republic.  The 
question  ought  to  be  debated  a second  time; 
and  the  Athenians  ought  to  rescind  the  decree 
against  Sicily,  which  had  passed  without  suffi- 
cient examination,  in  the  absence  of  several 
aged  and  respectable  counsellors.”1 

This  discourse  immediately  called  up  Alci- 
biades,  who,  presuming  on  his  credit  with  the 
assembly,  acknowledged,  “That  he  had  aspired 
to  the  command  in  Sicily,  and  that  he  thought 
himself  justly  entitled  to  that  honour.  The 
extravagance  of  which  he  was  accused,  had  re- 
dounded to  the  profit  of  his  country ; since  his 
magnificence  at  the  Olympic  games,  however 
it  might  be  traduced  by  an  abusive  epithet,  had 
extended  the  glory  of  Athens,  and  deserved  the 
admiration  of  Greece.  His  youth  and  inex- 
perience had  effected  what  the  policy  of  the 
wisest  statesmen  had  often  attempted  in  vain. 

A powerful  confederacy  had  been  formed 
against  Sparta,  even  in  the  bosom  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesus ; and  the  terror  of  a domestic  foe 
would  long  prevent  the  enmity  of  that  rival 
state  from  interrupting  the  progress  of  Athe- 
nian grandeur.  In  an  expedition,  evidently 
directed  to  this  glorious  end,  expense  and 
danger  ought  not  to  be  regarded,  since  wealth 
was  usefully  sacrificed  to  purchase  victory  and 
renown;  and  power  was  only  to  be  preserved 


1 Thucydid.  1.  vi.  p.  417,  et  seq.  The  Sicilian  expedition 
is  uninterruptedly  related  through  the  remainder  of  the  sixth 
and  seventh  hooks  of  Thucydides.  The  collateral  authority 
of  Diodorus,  Plutarch  and  the  orators  is  of  little  importance. 


[Chap. 

by  seizing  every  favourable  opportunity'  to  in- 
crease it.  To  the  undertaking  which  he  ad- 
vised, no  reasonable  objection  could  be  made; 
its  expense  would  be  furnished  by  the  Egistse- 
ans,  and  other  confederates;  and  the  danger 
could  not  be  great,  as  Sicily,  how'ever  exten- 
sive and  populous,  wras  inhabited  by  a promis- 
cuous crowd  of  various  nations,  without  arms 
or  discipline,  devoid  of  patriotism,  and  incapa- 
ble of  union.”2 

The  assembly  murmured  applause,  confirmed 
their  former  decree,  and  testified  for  the  war 
greater  alacrity  than  before.  Nicias  perceived 
the  violence  of  the  popular  current ; still,  how- 
ever,  he  made  one  ineffectual  effort  to  resist  its 
force.  “ The  success  of  an  invader,”  he  ob- 
served, “ commonly  depended  on  the  weight 
and  rapidity  of  his  first  unexpected  impression, 
which  confirmed  the  confidence  of  his  friends, 
and  excited  dismay  and  terror  in  his  enemies. 
If  the  expedition  into  Sicily  must  be  under- 
taken in  defiance  of  every  difficulty  and  dan- 
ger, it  ought  therefore  to  be  carried  into  execu- 
tion with  the  utmost  vigour.  The  Athenians 
might  thus  secure  the  assistance  of  Naxos  and 
Catana,  which  were  connected  by  affinity  with 
the  Egistaeans  and  Leontines.  But  there  re- 
mained seven  cities,  and  those  far  more  power- 
ful, with  which  they  must  prepare  to  contend ; 
particularly  S'elinus  and  Syracuse,  places  well 
provided  wuth  ships,  magazines,  cavalry,  arch- 
ers, heavy -armed  troops,  and  every  object  and 
resource  most  useful  in  defensive  war.  An 
armament  simply  naval  would  not  be  sufficient 
to  cope  with  such  a strength.  Five  thousand 
pikemen,  with  a proportional  number  of  arch- 
ers and  cavalry,  could  not  render  the  invasion 
successful.  After  arriving  in  Sicily,  the  towns 
must  be  besieged  or  stormed  ; workmen,  wfith 
all  sorts  of  machines  and  implements,  must  be 
collected  for  those  purposes,  and  transported 
to  an  island  from  which,  in  the  four  winter 
months,  a messenger  could  scarcely  return  to 
Athens.  This  necessary  train,  which  would 
greatly  encumber  the  fleet  and  army,  must  be 
subsisted  in  a hostile  country.  Besides  a hun- 
dred galleys,  a great  number  of  tenders  and 
victuallers  would  be  required  for  the  expedi- 
tion. To  collect  such  an  immense  mass  of  war, 
demanded,  doubtless,  astonishing  ardour  and 
perseverance ; but  if  the  Athenians  intended  to 
employ  a smaller  force,  he  must,  in  justice  to 
his  country  and  himself,  decline  accepting  the 
command,  since  nothing  less  than  what  he  had 
described  could  promise  a hope  of  victory,  or 
prevent  the  certainty  of  defeat.”3 
Oivmn  The  *ast  attemPt  of. Nicias  to  dis- 

xo]-  0"’  suade  his  countrymen  from  this 

^ fatal  enterprise,  by  magnifying  the 

difficulty  of  its  execution,  produced 
an  opposite  effect.  The  obstacles,  which  were 
unable  to  conquer,  only  animated  the  courage 
of  the  assembly ; and  it  was  determined,  that 
the  generals  should  be  invested  with  full  au- 
thority to  raise  such  sums  of  money,  and  to 
levy  such  a body  of  troops,  as  might  ensure 
success  to  their  arms.  The  domestic  strength 


2 Thucydid*  p.  422—426. 

3 Thucydid.  p.  427 — 429. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


223 


XIX.] 

of  the  Athenians  was  unequal  to  the  greatness 
of  the  undertaking:  proper  agents  were  de- 
spatched to  demand  an  extraordinary  contribu- 
tion from  their  dependent  states,  as  well  as  to 
summon  the  reluctant  assistance  of  their  more 
warlike  allies.  These  auxiliary  squadrons  were 
ordered  to  sail  to  Corcyra,  in  which  rendezvous 
the  Athenians,  towards  the  middle  of  summer, 
were  ready  to  join  their  confederates. 

The  magnitude  of  the  preparations  increased 
the  hopes  and  the  ardour  of  all  ranks  of  men 
in  the  republic.  The  old  expected  that  nothing 
could  resist  such  a numerous  and  well-equip- 
ped armament.  The  young  eagerly  seized  an 
occasion  to  gratify  their  curiosity  and  love  of 
knowledge  in  a distant  navigation,  and  to  share 
the  honours  of  such  a glorious  enterprise.  The 
rich  exulted  in  displaying  their  magnificence; 
the  poor  rejoiced  in  the  immediate  assurance 
of  pay  sufficient  to  relieve  their  present  wants,4 
and  in  the  prospect  of  obtaining  by  their  arms 
the  materials  of  future  ease  and  happiness.  In- 
stead of  finding  any  difficulty  to  complete  the 
levies,  the  great  difficulty  consisted  in  deciding 
the  preference  of  valour  and  merit  among  those 
who  solicited  to  serve ; and  the  wrhole  comple- 
ment of  forces,  to  be  employed  by  sea  and 
land,  consisted  of  chosen  men.5 

Amidst  the  general  alacrity  felt,  or  at  least 
expressed,  by  people  of  all  descriptions  (for  the 
dread  of  incurring  public  censure  made  several 
express  what  they  did  not  feel,)  Socrates6  alone 
ventured  openly  and  boldly  to  condemn  the 
expedition,  and  to  predict  the  future  calamities 
of  his  country.  But  the  authority  of  a sage 
was  incapable  to  check  the  course  of  that  en- 
thusiasm, which  had  not  been  interrupted  by 
the  anniversary  festival  of  Adonis,  an  ancient 
and  melancholy  rite,  which  inauspiciously  re- 
turned a few  days  preceding  the  embarkation. 
During  this  dreary  ceremony,  the  streets  of 
Athens  were  crowded  with  spectres  clothed  in 
funeral  robes,  the  spacious  domes  and  temples 
resounded  with  lugubrious  cries;  while  the 
Grecian  matrons,  marching  in  slow  procession, 
tore  their  dishevelled  hair,  beat  their  naked 
bosoms,  and  lamented  in  mournful  strains  the 
untimely  death  of  the  lover,  and  beloved  fa- 
vourite, of  Venus.7 

When  the  appointed  day  arrived,  the  whole 
inhabitants  of  Athens,  whether  citizens  or 
strangers,  assembled  early  in  the  Piraeus,  to 
admire  the  greatest  spectacle  ever  beheld  in  a 
Grecian  harbour.  A hundred  galleys  were 
adorned  with  all  the  splendour  of  naval  pomp  : 
the  troops  destined  to  embark,  vied  with  each 
other  in  the  elegance  of  their  dress  and  the 
brightness  of  their  arms:  the  alacrity  painted 
•in  every  face,  and  the  magnificence  displayed 


4 Tlio  most  expert  and  able  seamen  received  a drachma 
(seven  pence  three  farthings)  as  daily  pay,  besides  dona- 
tives from  their  respective  captains.  Thucydid.  et  Plut. 

5 Thucydid.  p.  430 — 433. 

6 Plutarch  joins  Meton  the  astrologer  with  Socrates.  But 
the  story  of  Meton,  who  pretended  madness,  burned  his 
house,  and  entreated  the  Athenians,  that,  amidst  his  do- 
mestic misfortunes,  ho  might  not  be  deprived  of  the  com- 
fort of  his  only  son,  is  inconsistent  with  the  narrntive  of 
Thucydides,  which  proves,  that  instead  of  compelling  re- 
luctance, there  was  occasion  to  repress  forwardness,  to 
embark. 

7 Plut.  in  Nic.  et  Alcibiad-  * 


with  profusion  in  every  part  of  the  equipage, 
represented  a triumphal  show,  rather  than  the 
stern  image  of  war.  But  the  solidity  and 
greatness  of  the  armament  proved  that  it  was 
intended  for  use,  not  for  ostentation.  Amidst 
^.his  glare  of  external  pageantry  which  accom- 
panied the  adventurous  youth,  their  friends 
and  kinsmen  could  not  suppress  a few  parting 
tears,  when  they  considered  the  length  of  the 
voyage,  the  dangers  of  the  sea,  and  the  uncer- 
tainty of  beholding  again  the  dearest  pledges 
of  their  affections.  But  these  partial  expres- 
sions of  grief  were  speedily  interrupted  by  the 
animating  sounds  of  the  trumpet,  which  issued 
at  once  from  a hundred  ships,  and  provoked 
sympathetic  acclamations  from  the  shore.  The 
captains  then  offered  solemn  prayers  to  the 
gods,  which  were  answered  by  corresponding 
vows  from  the  spectators:  the  customary  liba- 
tions were  poured  out  in  goblets  of  gold  and 
silver;  and,  after  the  triumphant  Paean  had 
been  sung  in  full  chorus,  the  whole  fleet  at 
once  set  sail,  and  contended  for  the  prize  of 
naval  skill  and  celerity,  until  they  reached  the 
lofty  shores  of  iEgina,  from  whence  they  en- 
joyed a prosperous  navigation  to  the  rendez- 
vous of  their  confederates  at  Corcyra.8 

At  Corcyra  the  commanders  reviewed  the 
strength  of  the  armament,  which  consisted  of  a 
hundred  and  thirty-four  ships  of  war,  with  a 
proportional  number  of  transports  and  tenders. 
The  heavy-armed  troops,  exceeding  five  thou- 
sand, were  attended  with  a sufficient  body  of 
slingers  and  archers.  The  army,  abundantly 
provided  in  every  other  article,  was  extremely 
deficient  in  horses,  which  amounted  to  no  more 
than  thirty.  But,  at  a moderate  computation, 
we  may  estimate  the  whole  military  and  naval 
strength,  including  slaves  and  servants,  at 
twenty  thousand  men. 

With  this  powerful  host,  had  the  Athenians 
at  once  surprised  and  assailed  the  unprepared 
security  of  Syracuse,  the  expedition,  however 
adventurous  and  imprudent,  might,  perhaps, 
have  been  crowned  with  success.  But  the 
timid  mariners  of  Greece  would  have  trembled 
at  the  proposal  of  trusting  such  a numerous 
fleet  on  the  broad  expanse  of  the  Ionian  sea. 
They  determined  to  cross  the  narrowest  pas- 
sage between  Italy  and  Sicily,  after  coasting 
along  the  eastern  shores  of  the  former,  until 
they  reached  the  Strait  of  Messina.  That  this 
design  might  be  executed  with  the  greater 
safety,  they  despatched  three  light  vessels  to 
examine  the  disposition  of  the  Italian  cities, 
and  to  solicit  admission  into  their  harbours. 
The  greatest  part  of  Magna  Grtecia  had,  indeed, 
been  peopled  by  Dorians,  naturally  hostile  to 
Athens.  But  from  one  Italian  city  the  Athe- 
nians had  reason  to  expect  a very  favourable 
reception.  The  effeminate  Sybaris  had  been 
demolished,  as  related  above,9  by  the  warlike 
inhabitants  of  Crotona,  about  the  time  that  the 
Athenians,  growing  more  powerful  than  their 
neighbours,  began  to  seize  every  opportunity 
to  extend  their  colonies  and  their  dominion. 
Governed  by  such  principles,  they  could  not 


8 Thucvflid.  1.  vi.  p.  432.  et  sea.  Plut.  in  Nicia.  Didor 
1.  x iii.  p.  332.  9 P.  145. 


224 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


long  overlook  the  happy  situation  of  Sybaris, 
near  to  which  they  early  formed  an  establish- 
ment that  assumed  the  name  of  Thurium,  from 
a salubrious  fountain  of  fresh  water;1  and  the 
colony  was  increased  by  a numerous  supply 
of  emigrants,  who,  under  Athenian  leaders, 
sailed  from  Greece  thirteen  years  before  the 
Peloponnesian  war.2 

The  armament  at  Corcyra,  whatever  jea- 
lousy its  power  might  create  in  other  cities, 
was  entitled  to  the  gratitude  of  Thurium;  pre- 
suming on  which,  the  commanders,  without 
waiting  the  return  of  the  advice-boats,  ordered 
the  fleet  to  proceed,  in  three  divisions,  to  the 
Italian  coast.  But  neither  the  ties  of  consan- 
guinity, nor  the  duties  acknowledged  by  colo- 
nies towards  their  parent  state,  could  prevail 
on  the  suspicious  Thurians  to  open  their  gates, 
or  even  to  furnish  a market,  to  their  Athenian 
ancestors.  The  towns  of  Tarentum  and  Locris 
prohibited  them  the  use  of  their  harbours,  and 
refused  to  supply  them  with  water;  and  they 
coasted  the  whole  extent  of  the  shore,  from  the 
promontory  of  [apygium  to  that  of  Rhegium, 
before  any  one  city  would  allow  them  to  pur- 
chase the  commodities  for  which  they  had  im- 
mediate use.  The  magistrates  of  Rhegium 
granted  this  favour,  but  they  granted  nothing 
more ; notwithstanding  the  earnest  solicitations 
of  Alcibiades  and  his  colleagues,  who  exhorted 
them,  as  a colony  of  Euboea,  to  assist  their 
brethren  of  Leontium,  whose  republic  the 
Athenians  had  determined  to  re-establish  and 
to  defend.3 

While  the  armament  continued  at  Rhegium, 
they  were  informed  by  vessels  which  had  been 
purposely  despatched  from  Corcyra,  that  the 
Egistaeans,  notwithstanding  the  boasted  ac- 
counts lately  given  of  their  riches,  possessed 
only  thirty  talents  in  their  treasury.  This  dis- 
agreeable intelligence,  together  with  the  disap- 
pointment of  assistance  from  any  Italian  city, 
occasioned  a council  of  war,  to  consider  what 
measures  ought  to  be  pursued  in  the  Sicilian 
expedition.  It  was  the  opinion  of  Nicias,  “ that 
the  Egistseans  ought  to  be  furnished  with  that 
proportion  of  ships  only,  the  charges  of  which 
they  were  able  to  defray;  and  that  the  Athe- 
nian fleet,  having  settled,  either  by  arms  or  by 
persuasion,  the  quarrels  between  them  and  their 
neighbours,  should  return  to  their  own  har- 
bours, after  sailing  along  the  coast  of  Sicily, 
and  displaying  to  the  inhabitants  of  that  island 
both  their  inclination  and  their  power  to  pro- 
tect the  weakness  of  their  allies.” 

Alcibiades  declared,  “ That  it  would  be 
shameful  and  ignominious  to  dissolve  such  a 
powerful  armament,  without  performing  some 
exploit  worthy  the  renown  of  the  republic ; that., 
by  the  prospect  of  immediate  and  effectual 
support,  the  inferior  cities  might  easily  be 
alienated  from  the  reluctant  confederacy  with 
Selinus  and  Syracuse;  after  which,  the  war 
ought  to  be  carried  on  with  the  utpiost  vigour 
against  those  republics,  unless  they  re-esta- 
blished the  Leontines  in  their  territory,  and 


1 Clvofittrxv  tjk  ©o|<ov.  Diodor.  1.  xii.  p.  295. 

2 Snid.  ad  voe.  Lysias. 

3 Thucydid.  p.  443. 


[Chap. 

gave  complete  satisfaction  to  the  injured  Egis- 
taeans. 

Lamachus  not  only  approved  the  active 
counsels  of  Alcibiades,  but  proposed  a measure 
still  more  enterprising.  “ The  Athenians  ought 
not  to  waste  time  in  unimportant  objects.  In- 
stead of  striking  at  the  extremities,  they  ought 
to  assault  at  once  the  heart  and  strength  of  the 
enemy.  If  they  immediately  attacked  Syra- 
cuse, it  would  not  only  be  the  first,  but  the  last 
city,  which  they  would  have  occasion  to  be- 
siege. Nor  could  the  attempt  fail,  if  undertaken 
without  delay,  before  the  Syracusans  had  time 
to  recollect  themselves,  and  to  provide  for  their 
own  defence ; and  while  the  Athenian  troops, 
as  yet  undaunted  by  any  check,  enjoyed  un- 
broken courage  and  blooming  hopes.” 

This  advice,  which  does  equal  honour  to  the 
spirit  and  good  sense  of  Lamachus,  was  reject- 
ed by  the  timidity  of  Nicias,  and  probably  by 
the  vanity  of  Alcibiades.  The  latter  perceived 
a flattering  opportunity  of  exhausting  all  the 
resources  of  his  eloquence  and  intrigue  to  get 
possession  of  the  dependent  cities,  before  he 
illustrated  the  glory  of  his  arms  in  the  siege 
of  Syracuse.  The  fleet  sailed  from  Rhegium 
to  execute  his  plan,  which  was  adopted  by  his 
colleagues,  as  forming  the  middle  between  the 
extremes  of  the  respective  opinions.  A con- 
siderable detachment  was  sent  to  examine  the 
preparations  and  the  strength  of  Syracuse,  and 
to  proclaim  liberty,  and  offer  protection,  to  all 
the  captives  and  strangers  confined  within  its 
walls. 

With  another  detachment  Alcibiades  sailed  to 
Naxos,  and  persuaded  the  inhabitants  to  accept 
the  alliance  of  Athens.  The  remainder  of  the 
armament  proceeded  to  Catana,  which  refused 
to  admit  the  ships  into  the  harbour,  or  the 
troops  into  the  city.  But  on  the  arrival  of 
Alcibiades,  the  Cataneans  allowed  him  to  ad- 
dress the  assembly,  and  propose  his  demands. 
The  artful  Athenian  transported  the  populace, 
and  even  the  magistrates  themselves,  by  the 
charms  of  his  eloquence;  the  citizens  flocked 
from  every  quarter,  to  hear  a discourse  which 
was  purposely  protracted  for  several  hours;  the 
soldiers  forsook  their  posts ; and  the  enemy, 
who  had  prepared  to  avail  themselves  of  this 
negligence,  burst  through  the  unguarded  gates, 
and  became  masters  of  the  city.  Those  of  the 
Cataneans  who  were  most  attached  to  the  in- 
terests of  Syracuse,  fortunately  escaped  death 
by  the  celerity  of  their  flight.  The  rest  accept- 
ed the  proffered  friendship  of  the  Athenians. 
This  success  would  probably  have  been  fol- 
lowed by  the  surrender  of  Messene,  which 
Alcibiades  had  filled  with  distrust  and  sedition. 
But  when  the  plot  was  ripe  for  execution,4  the 
man  who  had  contrived,  and  who  alone  could 
conduct  it,  was  disqualified  from  serving  his 
country.  The  arrival  of  the  Salaminian  galley 
recalled  Alcibiades  to  Athens,  that  he  might 
stand  trial  for  his  life. 


4  Thucydides  says,  “When  Alcibiades  knew  he  should 
be  banished,  he  betrayed  his  accomplices  to  the  party 
favourable  to  Syracuse,  who  immediately  put  their  adver- 
saries to  death.”  Thucydid.  p.  462.  We  shall  see  hereafter 
still  more  fatal  consequences  of  his  resentment  against  his 
country.  But  nothing  can  more  strongly  attest  the  turpi- 
tude of  his  character. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


225 


XIX.] 

It  would  be  improper  to  suspend  the  course 
of  an  interesting  narrative,  by  describing  the 
causes  and  circumstances  of  this  unexpected 
event,  if  they  were  not  immediately  connected 
with  the  subsequent  history  of  the  Sicilian 
expedition,  and  with  the  future  fortune  of  the 
Athenians,  who,  after  engaging,  by  the  advice 
of  one  man,  in  the  most  romantic  schemes  of 
conquest  which  the  madness  of  ambition  had 
ever  dared  to  entertain,  injudiciously  arrested 
the  activity  of  that  man  in  the  execution  of 
such  extraordinary  designs,  as  could  only  be 
accomplished  by  the  wonderful  resources  of  his 
singular  and  eccentric  genius.  It  happened, 
that  on  the  night  preceding  the  intended  navi- 
gation to  Sicily,  all  the  statues  of  Mercury, 
which  had  been  erected  in  the  Athenian  streets 
as  the  boundaries  of  different  edifices  and  tene- 
ments, were  thrown  down,  broken,  and  defaced. 
One  only  image  of  the  god,  of  uncommon  size- 
and  beauty,  was  saved  from  the  general  wreck ; 
it  was  afterwards  called  the  statue  of  Ando- 
cides,  as  it  stood  before  the  house  of  the  Athe- 
nian orator  of  that  name.  This  daring  insult 
was  first  ascribed  to  the  wicked  artifices  of  the 
Corinthians,  who,  it  was  supposed,  might  em- 
ploy such  an  abominable  and  sacrilegious  con- 
trivance to  deter  the  Athenian  armament  from 
sailing  against  their  colony  and  kinsmen  of 
Syracuse.  But  the  enemies  of  Alcibiades 
availed  themselves  of  the  impious  levity5  of  his 
character,  to  direct  the  popular  storm  against 
the  head  of  their  detested  foe.  On  the  evi- 
dence of  slaves,  he  was  accused  of  having 
treated,  with  rude  familiarity,  other  adored 
images  of  the  gods;  and  Thessalus,  the  degene- 
rate son  of  the  magnanimous  Cimon,  impeached 
him  of  impiety  towards  the  goddesses  Ceres 
and  Proserpine,  whose  awful  ceremonies  he 
had  polluted  and  profaned ; assuming,  though 
uninitiated,  the  name  and  robes  of  the  high 
priest,  calling  Polytion  (in  whose  house  this 
dreadful  scene  had  been  represented,)  the  torch- 
bearer,  Theodorus  the  herald,  and  his  other 
licentious  companions  the  sacred  brethren  and 
holy  ministers  of  those  mysterious  rites.6 

Such  an  atrocious  accusation 
alarmed  the  terrors  of  the  Athe- 

"r;  "415  Ilians  5 ono  assembly  was  summoned 
’ after  another;  and  the  panic  became 
the  more  general,  when  it  was  understood  that, 
during  the  same  night  in  which  the  statues  had 
been  mutilated,  a body  of  Peloponnesian  troops 
had  marched  towards  the  Isthmus  of  Corinth. 
In  the  confused  imagination  of  the  vulgar,  it 
was  possible  to  unite  the  incompatible  inter- 
ests of  superstition  and  of  freedom ; and  they 
were  persuaded  by  Androcles,  and  other  artful 
demagogues,  that  the  profanation  of  the  mys- 
teries, the  defacing  of  the  statues  of  Mercury, 

5 Democritus,  the  chief  promoter  of  the  Atomic  philoso- 
phy, was  younjor  than  Anaxagoras,  and  e!dei  than  Socrates. 
Ilia  scholars,  Diagoras  and  Protagqras,  propagated  his  wild 
system  at  Athens  towards  the  commencement  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian war.  Whether  Alcibiades  embraced  the  barren 
doctrines  of  that  miserable  sect,  or  adhered  to  the  divine 
philosophy  of  his  master  Socrates,  or,  more  probably,  fluc- 
tuated between  them,  he  must,  in  all  cases  alike,  have  been 
obnoxious  to  the  suspicion  of  impiety.  Comp.  Strabo.  1. 
Ixv.  p.  703.  Sext.  Empiric.  1.  lix.  11.  Laert.  I.  ii.  in  De- 
mocrit.  Socrat.  et  Protag. 

6 Plutarch,  in  Alcibiad. 

2 F 


the  movement  of  the  Peloponnesian  troops,  all 
announced  a conspiracy  to  demolish  the  esta- 
blished form  of  popular  government,  the  safety 
of  which  had,  ever  since  the  expulsion  of  the 
Pisistratidae,  formed  an  object  of  universal  and 
most  anxious  solicitude. 

Alcibiades  defended  himself,  with  his  usual 
eloquence  and  address,  against  the  malignity 
of  a charge,  unsupported  by  any  adequate  evi- 
dence. The  soldiers  and  sailors,  whose  eager- 
ness already  grasped  the  conquest  of  Sicily, 
interceded  for  the  deliverance  of  their  com- 
mander, whom  they  regarded  as  the  soul  of 
that  glorious  enterprize.  A thousand  Argives 
and  Mantinoeans,  who  had  enlisted,  on  this 
occasion,  under  the  Athenian  banners,  declared 
their  unwillingness  to  sail,  unless  they  were 
accompanied  by  Alcibiades,  whose  valour  and 
abilities  alone  had  determined  them  to  engage 
in  such  an  important,  but  dangerous  service. 
This  powerful  combination  in  his  favour  disap- 
pointed the  present  hopes,  without  disconcert- 
ing the  future  measures,  of  his  enemies.  They 
perceived  that,  were  he  brought  to  an  imme- 
diate trial,  it  would  be  impossible  to  obtain 
sentence  against  him;  but  that  were  his  person 
and  influence  removed  to  a distance  from 
Athens,  every  thing  might  be  hoped  from  the 
weakness,  inconstancy,  and  credulity  of  the 
populace.  It  was  therefore  determined  by  this 
perfidious  cabal,  that  such  orators  as  had  hither- 
to disguised,  under  the  mask  of  friendship  or 
admiration,  their  envy  and  hatred  of  Alcibiades, 
should  declare  in  full  assembly,  “that  it  would 
be  inconsistent  with  the  clearest  dictates  of 
prudence  and  propriety,  to  involve  in  the  tedi- 
ous formalities  of  a judicial  procedure,  a citizen 
who  had  been  elected  general  by  the  unanimous 
suffrage  of  his  country,  and  whose  presence  was 
eagerly  demanded  by  the  affectionate  ardour 
of  his  troops.  The  charges  against  him  de- 
served, doubtless,  to  be  seriously  examined ; 
but  the  present  was  not  a proper  time  for  such 
an  investigation,  which  must  blunt  the  courage 
of  his  followers,  and  interrupt  the  service  of  the 
republic.  Let  him  sail,  therefore,  for  Sicily, 
and  at  his  return  home  he  will  either  vindicate 
his  innocence,  or  suffer  the  punishment  of  his 
guilt.”  Alcibiades  perceived  the  poison  con- 
cealed under  this  affected  lenity,  and  testified 
his  reluctance  to  leave  behind  him  such  abun- 
dant materials  for  the  malice  of  informers.  But 
his  petition  for  an  immediate  trial  was  rejected 
by  the  assembly.  He  therefore  set  sail,  proba- 
bly flattering  himself,  that  by  the  glory  and 
success  of  his  arms,  he  would  silence  the 
clamours,  and  defeat  the  machinations,  of  his 
accusers. 

But  this  expectation  was  unfortunately  dis- 
appointed. In  a republican  government,  it  is 
not  more  easy  to  excite,  than  it  is  difficult  to 
appease,  the  fermentation  of  public  discontents, 
especially  if  occasioned  by  any  real  or  pre- 
tended diminution  of  freedom.  The  removal 
of  Alcibiades  gave  full  scope  to  the  ebullitions 
of  popular  frenzy.  The  Athenians  were  con- 
tinually assembled  to  inquire  into  the  violation 
of  the  statues.  Many  respectable  citizens  were 
seized  on  suspicion,  because  they  had,  on  for- 
mer occasions,  discovered  principles  hostile  to 


226 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


the  wild  extravagance  of  democracy.  Others 
were  imprisoned  on  the  evidence  of  Teucer,  an 
obscure  stranger,  and  Diopeithes,  a calumnious 
demagogue.  The  violence  of  the  public  disor- 
der opened  a door  to  private  vengeance.  Every 
individual  was  desirous  to  see  his  personal 
enemies  among  the  number  of  state  criminals ; 
and  his  resentment  was  invited  falsely  to  accuse 
them,  by  an  injudicious  decree  of  the  assembly, 
offering  high  rewards  to  those  who  should  de- 
nounce the  guilty,  and  even  to  the  guilty  them- 
selves, who  should  denounce  their  associates, 
p..  Among  the  persons  who  had  been 

xci  2^'  seized  on  suspicion,  was  the  crafty 
A *C  ' 415  an<^  ifdriguing  Timaeus,  and  the 
profligate  and  impious  Andocides, 
the  same  whose  statue  of  Mercury  had  escaped 
the  general  mutilation.  The  known  character 
of  these  men  naturally  marked  them  out  as 
peculiar  victims  of  popular  fury.  As  they  were 
confined  in  the  same  prison,  they  had  an  op- 
portunity of  communicating  their  apprehen- 
sions, and  of  contriving  means  of  safety.  Ti- 
mseus  persuaded  his  friend  (for  the  ties  of 
common  danger  create  between  knaves  a tem- 
porary friendship,)  that  it  would  be  weakness 
to  die  by  a false  accusation,  when  he  might 
save  himself  by. a lie.  Andocides  turned  in- 
former. The  prisoners  whom  he  named  were 
banished  or  put  to  death ; the  rest  were  set  at 
liberty.  The  absent,  among  whpm  was  Alci- 
biades,  were  recalled  to  stand  trial.  But  they 
did  not  obey  the  summons  sent  them  by  the 
Salaminian  galley.  The  wanderings  and  mis- 
fortunes of  more  obscure  names  are  unknown. 
Alcibiades  escaped  to  Thurium,  and  afterwards 
to  Argos;  and  when  he  understood  that  the 
Athenians  had  set  a price  on  his  head,  he 
finally  took  refuge  in  Sparta;  where  his  active 
genius  seized  the  first  opportunity  to  advise 
and  promote  those  fatal  measures,  which,  while 
they  gratified  his  private  resentment,  occasion- 
ed the  ruin  of  his  country.1 

The  removal  of  Alcibiades  soon  appeared  in 
the  languid  operations  of  the  Athenian  arma- 
ment. The  cautious  timidity  of  Nicias,  sup- 
ported by  wealth,  eloquence,  and  authority, 
gained  an  absolute  ascendant  over  the  more 
warlike  and  enterprising  character  of  Lama- 
chus,  whose  poverty  exposed  him  to  contempt. 
Instead  of  making  a bold  impression  on  Selinus 
or  Syracuse,  Nicias  contented  himself  with 
taking  possession  of  the  inconsiderable  colony 
of  Hyccara.  He  ravaged,  or  laid  under  con- 
tribution, somewplaces  of  smaller  note,  and  ob- 
tained thirty  talents  from  the  Egistaeans,  which, 
added  to  the  sale  of  the  booty,  furnished  about 
thirty  thousand  pounds  sterling,2  a sum  that 
might  be  usefully  employed  in  the  prosecution 
of  an  expensive  war.  But  this  advantage  did 
not  compensate  for  the  courage  inspired  into 
the  Syracusans  by  delay,  and  for  the  dishonour 


1 Plut.  in  Alcibiad.  et  Isocrates,  and  Lysias,  in  the  Ora- 
tions for  and  against  the  son  of  Alcibiades.  Several  facts 
and  circumstances  are  differently  represented  in  the  orations 
of  Andocides ; but  that  orator  was  a party  concerned. 

2 Thirty  talents  from  the  Egistteans, 


amount  to L.  5,812 

The  salo  of  slaves,  &c.  . . , 23,250 


[Chap. 

sustained  by  the  Athenian  troops,  in  their  un 
successful  attempts  against  Hybla  and  Him  era 
as  well  as  for  their  dejection  at  being  confined 
during  the  greatest  part  of  the  summer,  in  the 
inactive  quarters  of  Naxos  and  Catana. 

The  impatience  of  the  Athenians  murmured 
against  these  dilatory  and  ignoble  proceedings 
which  appeared  altogether  unworthy  the  great- 
ness of  their  armament,  the  generous  spirit 
with  which  they  felt  themselves  animated,  and 
the  ancient  glory  of  the  republic.  Nicias,  re- 
sisting the  wary  dictates  of  his  own  fear  or 
foresight,  determined  to  gratify  the  inclination 
of  his  troops  by  the  vigour  of  his  winter  cam- 
paign. The  conquest  of  Syracuse,  against 
which  he  intended  to  lead  them,  might  well 
excite  the  emulation  of  the  combatants,  since 
that  powerful  city  formed  the  main  obstacle  to 
their  ambition,  and  the  principal  bulwark  not 
only  of  Sicily,  but  of  the  Italian  and  African 
shores. 

Ancient  Syracuse,  of  which  the  ruined  gran- 
depr  still  forms  an  object  of  admiration,  was 
situate  on  a spacious  promontory,  washed  on 
three  sides  by  the  sea,  and  defended  on  the 
west  by  abrupt  and  almost  inaccessible  moun- 
tains. The  town  was  built  in  a triangular 
form,  whose  summit  may  be  conceived  at  the 
lofty  mountains  Epipole.  Adjacent  to  these 
natural  fortifications,  the  western  or  inland  divi- 
sion of  the  city  was  distinguished  by  the  name 
of  Tycha,  or  Fortune,  being  adorned  by  a mag- 
nificent temple  of  that  flattering  divinity.  The 
triangle  gradually  widening  towards  the  base, 
comprehended  the  vast  extent  of  Achradina, 
reaching  from  the  northern  shore  of  the  pro- 
montory to  the  southern  island  Ortygia.  This 
small  island,  composing  the  whole  of  modern 
Syracuse,  formed  but  the  third  and  least  ex- 
tensive division  of  the  ancient ; which  was 
fortified  by  walls  eighteen  miles  in  circuit,  en- 
riched by  a triple  harbour,  and  peopled  by 
abbve  two  hundred  thousand  warlike  citizens 
or  industrious  slaves.3 

When  the  Syracusans  heard  the  first  ru- 
mours of  the  Athenian  invasion,  they  despised, 
or  affected  to  despise  them,  as  idle  lies  invented 
to  amuse  the  ignorance  of  the  populace.  The 
hostile  armament  had  arrived  at  Rhegium  be- 
fore they  could  be  persuaded,  by  the  wisdom 
of  Hermocrates,  to  provide  against  a danger 
which  their  presumption  painted  as  imaginary. 
But  when  they  received  undoubted  intelligence 
that  the  enemy  had  reached  the  Italian  coast; 
when  they  beheld  their  numerous  fleet  com- 
manding the  sea  of  Sicily,  and  ready  to  make 
a descent  on  their  defenceless  island,  they  were 
seized  with  a degree  of  just  terror  and  alarm 
proportional  to  their  false  security.  They  con- 
demned their  former  incredulity  and  indiffer- 
ence, which  had  been  nourished  by  the  inter- 
ested adulation  of  the  demagogue  Athenagoras, 
who  vainly  assured  them  that  the  strength  of 
Syracuse  was  sufficient  not  only  to  defy  the 
assaults,  but  to  deter  the  attempts  of  any  Gre- 
cian foe.  From  the  heights  of  presumption 
they  plunged  into  the  depths  of  despair,  and 
their  spirits  were,  with  difficulty,  restored  by 


Sum  L.  29,062 


3  Strabo,  p.  266,  et  seq.  et  Thucydid.  passim.  1.  vi. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE 


227 


XIX.] 

tfte  animating  voice  of  Hermocrates,  who  was 
not  more  prudent  in  prosperity  than  intrepid 
in  danger.4 

By  his  exhortations  they  were  encouraged  to 
make  ready  their  arms,  to  equip  their  fleet,  to 
strengthen  their  garrisons,  and  to  summon  the 
assistance  of  their  allies.  These  measures  were 
undertaken  with  ardour,  and  carried  on  with 
unremitting  activity ; and  the  dilatory  opera- 
tions of  the  enemy  not  only  removed  the  recent 
terror  and  trepidation  of  the  Syracusans,  but 
inspired  them  with  unusual  firmness.  They 
requested  the  generals,  whom  they  had  ap- 
pointed to  the  number  of  fifteen,  to  lead  them 
to  Catana,  that  they  might  attack  the  hostile 
camp.  Their  cavalry  harassed  the  Athenians 
by  frequent  incursions,  beat  up  their  quarters, 
intercepted  their  convoys,  destroyed  their  ad- 
vanced posts,  and  even  proceeded  so  near  to 
the  main  body,  that  they  were  distinctly  heard 
demanding,  with  loud  insults,  whether  those 
boasted  lords  of  Greece  had  left  their  native 
country,  that  they  might  form  a precarious  set- 
tlement at  the  foot  of  Mount  iEtna.5 

Provoked  by  these  indignities,  and  excited 
by  the  impatient  resentment  of  his  own  troops, 
Nicias  was  still  restrained  from  an  open  attempt 
against  Syracuse  by  the  difficulties  attending 
that  enterprise.  The  distance  between  Catana 
and  the  Sicilian  capital  was  more  than  thirty 
miles;  but,  after  the  most  prosperous  voyage,  the 
Athenians  could  not  expect,  without  extreme 
danger,  to  make  a descent  on  the  fortified  coast 
of  a powerful  and  vigilant  enemy.  If  they  de- 
termined to  march  by  land,  they  must  be  harass- 
ed by  the  numerous  cavalry  of  Syracuse,  which 
actually  watched  their  motions,  and  with  whose 
activity,  in  a broken  and  intricate  country,  the 
strength  of  heavy-armed  troops  was  exceedingly 
ill  qualified  to  contend.  To  avoid  both  inconve- 
niences, Nicias  employed  a stratagem.  A citi- 
zen of  Catana,  whose  subtile  and  daring  genius, 
prepared  alike  to  die  or  to  deceive,  ought  to 
have  preserved  Jiis  name  from  oblivion,  appear- 
ed in  Syracuse  as  a deserter  from  his  native 
city ; the  unhappy  fate  of  which,  in  being  sub- 
jected to  the  imperious  commands,  or  licentious 
disorder  of  the  Athenians,  he  lamented  with 
perfidious  tears,  and  with  the  plaintive  accents 
of  well-dissembled  sorrow.  “ He  was  not  the 
only  man  who  bewailed,  with  filial  compassion, 
the  misfortunes  and  ignominy  of  his  country. 
A numerous  band  of  Cataneans,  whose  resent- 
ment was  repressed  by  fear,  longed  to  take  up 
arms,  that  they  might  deliver  themselves  from 
a disgraceful  yoke,  and  repel  the  tyranny  of  the 
invaders.  Nor  could  the  design  fail  of  success, 
if  Syracuse  should  second  their  generous  ardour. 
The  Athenians,  so  liberally  endowed  with  cou- 
rage and  ambition,  were  destitute  of  wisdom 
and  of  discipline.  They  spurned  the  confine- 
ment of  the  military  life  ; their  posts  were  for- 
saken, their  ships  unguarded;  they  disdained 
the  duties  of  the  camp,  and  indulged  in  the 
pleasures  of  the  city.  On  an  appointed  day  it 


4 Thucydid.  p.  436,  et  seq. 

5 Plutarch.  The  sneer  is  differently  expressed  in  Thu- 

cydides; “ Whether  they  had  not  come  to  gain  a settlement 

foT  themselves  in  a foreign  country,  rather  than  to  replace 

the  Leontines  tn  their  own.”  Thucydid.  p.  455. 


would  be  easy  for  the  Syracusans,  assisted  by 
the  conspirators  of  Catana,  to  attack  them  un- 
prepared, to  mount  their  undefended  ramparts, 
to  demolish  their  encampment,  and  to  burn  their 
fleet.”  This  daring  proposal  well  corresponded 
with  the  keen  sentiments  of  revenge  which  ani- 
mated the  inhabitants  of  Syracuse.  The  day 
was  named ; the  plan  of  the  enterprise  was 
concerted,  and  the  treacherous  Catanean  re- 
turned home  to  revive  the  hopes,  and  to  con- 
firm the  resolution,  of  his  pretended  associates. 

The  success  of  this  intrigue  gave  the  utmost 
satisfaction  to  Nicias,  whose  armament  prepar- 
ed to  sail  for  Syracuse  on  the  day  appointed  by 
the  inhabitants  of  that  city  for  assaulting,  with 
their  whole  force,  the  Athenian  camp.  Already 
had  they  marched,  with  this  view,  to  the  fertile 
plain  of  Leontium,  when,  after  twelve  hours’ 
sail,  the  Athenian  fleet  arrived  in  the  great 
harbour,  disembarked  their  troops,  and  fortified 
a camp  without  the  western  wall,  near  to  a ce- 
lebrated temple  of  Olympian  Jupiter,  a situation 
which  had  been  pointed  out  by  some  Syracusan 
exiles,  and  which  was  well  adapted  to  every 
purpose  of  accommodation  and  defence.  Mean 
while  the  cavalry  of  Syracuse,  having  proceeded 
to  the  walls  of  Catana,  had  discovered,  to  their 
infinite  regret,  the  departure  of  the  Athenians. 
The  unwelcome  intelligence  was  conveyed,  with 
the  utmost  expedition,  to  the  infantry,  who  im- 
mediately marched  back  to  protect  Syracuse. 
The  rapid  return  of  the  warlike  youth  restored 
the  courage  of  the  aged  Syracusans.  They 
were  joined  by  the  forces  of  Gela  Selinus,  and 
Camarina  ; and  it  was  determined,  without  loss 
of  time,  to  attack  the  hostile  encampment.6 

Only  a few  days  elapsed  before  the  Athenians 
gave  them  a fairer  opportunity  of  revenge.  The 
two  armies  prepared  to  engage,  re- 
xci  2^*  spectively  inflamed  by  resentment 
A C *415  anc^  ; the  one  formidable 

in  courage  and  numbers,  the  other 
elated  by  superior  discipline  and  habitual  vic- 
tory. The  Syracusan  generals  drew  up  their 
troops,  sixteen,  and  the  Athenians  only  eight, 
deep  : but  the  latter  had,  in  their  camp,  a body 
of  reserve,  which  was  kept  ready  for  action  on 
the  first  signal.  Nicias  went  round  the  ranks, 
exhorting  liis  soldiers  by  a short  discourse,  in 
which  he  observed,  “ that  the  strength  of  their 
present  preparations  was  better  fitted  to  inspire 
confidence,  than  the  most  eloquent  speech  with 
a weak  army,  especially  as  they  contended 
against  the  Syracusans,  a promiscuous  crowd, 
whose  presumption  was  founded  on  inexpe- 
rience, and  whose  desultorious  ardour,  however 
successful  in  predatory  incursions,  would  yield 
to  the  first  shock  of  regular  war.  They  fought, 
indeed,  in  defence  of  their  city;  so  did  the  Athe- 
nians and  their  allies,  whom  nothing  but  mili- 
tary valour  and  success  would  restore  in  safety 
to  their  respective  countries.”7  Having  thus 
spoken,  he  led  his  troops  to  the  enemy,  who 
did  not  decline  the  engagement.  The  light- 
armed archers8  skirmished  in  the  van  : the 


6  Thucydid.  p.  445 — 457.  7 Ibid.  p.  458  et  459. 

8 Thucydides  mentions,  besides  the  archers  (toJot ««), 
the \*5o/3o\o«  and  <r;- tt  ■>  .i  “the  throwers  of  stones 
and  slingers.”  P.449.  They  were  all  4'‘7-°S  as  he  says 
•immediately  below. 


228 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


priests  brought  forth  the  accustomed  sacri- 
fices : the  trumpets  summoned  for  a general 
charge. 

The  attack  was  begun  with  fury,  and  con- 
tinued with  perseverance  for  several  hours. 
Both  sides  were  animated  by  every  principle 
that  can  inspire  and  urge  the  utmost  vigour  of 
exertion,  and  victory  was  still  doubtful,  when  a 
tempest  suddenly  arose,  accompanied  with  un- 
usual peals  of  thunder.  This  event,  which  little 
affected  the  Athenians,  confounded  the  unexpe- 
rienced credulity  of  the  enemy,  who  were  broken 
and  put  to  flight.  Nicias  restrained  the  eager- 
ness of  his  men  in  the  pursuit,  lest  they  should 
be  exposed  to  danger  from  a body  of  twelve 
hundred  Syracusan  cavalry,  who  had  not  en- 
gaged in  the  battle,  but  who  impatiently  watch- 
ed an  opportunity  to  assault  the  disordered 
phalanx.  The  Syracusans  escaped  to  their  city, 
and  the  Athenians  returned  to  their  camp.  In 
such  an  obstinate  conflict  the  vanquished  lost 
two  hundred  and  sixty,  the  victors  only  fifty 
men  ; numbers  that  might  occasion  much  sur- 
prise, if  we  reflected  not  that,  to  oppose  the  of- 
fensive weapons  used  by  antiquity,  the  warriors 


[Chap. 

of  Greece  (in  every  circumstance  so  unlike  the 
miserable  and  naked  peasants  of  modern  Eu- 
rope, whose  lives  are  sacrificed  without  defence, 
as  without  remorse,  to  the  ambition  of  men 
whom  the  Greeks  would  have  styled  tyrants) 
being  armed  with  the  helmet  and  cuirass,  the 
ample  buckler,  the  firm  corselet,  and  the  manly 
greaves,  they  often  displayed  their  skill,  their 
courage,  and  their  love  of  liberty,  at  a very 
small  expense  of  human  blood. 

The  voyage,  the  encampment,  and  the  battle, 
employed  the  dangerous  activity,  and  gratified 
the  impetuous  ardour  of  the  Athenians,  but  did 
not  facilitate  the  conquest  of  Syracuse.  With- 
out more  powerful  preparations,  Nicias  despair- 
ed of  taking  the  place,  either  by  assault,  or  by 
a regular  siege.  Soon  after  his  victory  he  re- 
turned with  the  whole  armament  to  Naxos  and 
Catana;  a measure  which  sufficiently  proves 
that  the  late  enterprise  had  been  undertaken, 
not  in  consequence  of  any  permanent  system 
of  operations  formed  by  the  general,  but  in 
compliance  with  the  ungovernable1  temper  of 
his  troops,  whose  ideas  of  military  subordina- 
tion were  confined  to  the  field  of  battle. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


Preparations  for  the  ensuing  Campaign — The  Athenians  begin  the  Siege  with  Vigour — Distress 
and  Sedition  in  Syracuse — Arrival  of  Gylippus — Who  defeats  the  Athenians — Transactions  in 
Greece — A second  Armament  arrives  at  Syracuse — Its  first  Operations  successful — The  Athe- 
nians defeated — Prepare  to  raise  the  Siege — Naval  Engagement  in  the  Great  Harbour — 
Despondency  of  the  Athenians — Stratagem  of  Hermocrales — The  Athenians  raise  their  camp 
— Melancholy  Firmness  of  Nicias — Demosthenes  capitulates — Nicias  surrenders — Cruel  Treat- 
ment of  the  Athenian  Captives — Singular  Exception. 


xci.  2. 

A.  C.  415. 


7VTCIAS  had  reason  to  expect  that  his  victory 
over  the  Syracusans  would  procure  him 
respect  and  assistance  from  the  inferior  states 
of  Sicily.  His  emissaries  were  dif- 
Glymp.  fuse(i  over  that  island  and  the 
neighbouring  coast  of  Italy.  Mes- 
sengers were  sent  to  Tuscany,  where 
Pisa  and  other  cities  had  been  founded  by 
Greek  colonies.2  An  embassy  was  despatched 
to  Carthage,  the  rival  and  enemy  of  Syracuse. 
Nicias  gave  orders  to  collect  materials  for  cir- 
cumvallation,  iron,  bricks,  and  all  necessary 
stores.  He  demanded  horses  from  the  Eges- 
tseans ; and  required  from  Athens  reinforce- 
ments and  a large  pecuniary  supply ; and  ne- 
glected nothing  that  might  enable  him  to  open 
the  ensuing  campaign  with  vigour  and  effect.3 


1 Without  attending  to  this  circumstance,  the  conduct 
of  Grecian  generals  must,  on  many  occasions,  appear  alto- 
gether unaccountable.  The  same  observation  applies  to 
modern  history  preceding  the  peace  of  Munster.  The  fa- 
mous war  of  thirty  years,  which  ended  in  that  peace,  laid 
the  foundation  of  the  exact  military  subordination  which 
distinguishes  the  present  century.  See  Pere  Bougeant, 
Histoire.  de  la  Guerre  de  30  Ans. 

2 Straho,  p.  243,  et  p.  283,  et  seq. 

3 It  is  remarkable  that  though  Nicias,  after  the  removal 
of  Alcibiades,  enjoyed  the  principal,  or  rather  sole,  command 
of  the  army,  he  acted  quite  contrary  to  the  opinion  which 
he  had  declared  at  the  commencement  of  the  expedition. 
The  plan  which  he  pursued  was  that  of  Alcibiades,  not  his 


While  the  Athenians  thus  prepared  for  the 
attack  of  Syracuse,  the  citizens  of  that  capital 
displayed  equal  activity  in  providing  for  their 
own  defence.  By  the  advice  of  Hermocrates, 
they  appointed  himself,  Heraclides,  and  Sica- 
nus;  three,  instead  of  fifteen  generals.  The 
commanders  newly  elected,  both  in  civil  and 
military  affairs,  were  invested  with  unlimited 
power,  which  was  usefully  employed  to  pur- 
chase or  prepare  arms,  daily  to  exercise  the 
troops,  and  to  strengthen  and  extend  the  fortifi- 
cations of  Syracuse.  They  likewise  despatched 
ambassadors  to  the  numerous  cities  and  re- 
publics with  which  they  had  been  connected  in 
peace,  or  allied  in  war,  to  solicit  the  continuance 
of  their  friendship,  and  to  counteract  the  dan- 
gerous designs  of  the  Athenians. 

The  importance  of  the  city  Camerina,  situate 
on  the  southern  coast  of  Sicily,  demanded  the 
presence  of  Hermocrates  himself.  The  Cameri- 
neans  had  given  a very  feeble  and  reluctant 
~ , assistance  to  the  ir  allies  of  Syracuse ; 

•9^*  and  th«  orator  Eupheinus  employed 
. V-,  * . - r all  tht  resources  of  his  genius  to 
' unite  them  to  the  Athenian  con- 


own  : the  views  of  the  h*oishod  general  still  actuated  the 
army ; but  the  ardent  spirit  was  withdrawn,  that  could 
alone  ensure  their  success 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


229 


XX.] 

federacy.  An  assembly  being  summoned,  Her- 
mocrates  informed  them  “ That  a desire  to 
prevent  the  deception  of  the  Camerineans, 
not  the  dread  of  the  Athenian  power,  had  oc- 
casioned his  present  journey.  That  restless 
and  ambitious  nation,  which  had  so  often  kin- 
dled the  flames  of  war  on  the  continent  of 
Greece,  had  lately  sailed  to  Sicily,  under  pre- 
tence of  re-establishing  the  affairs  of  the  Leon- 
tines  and  Egestaeans,  but  from  a motive  more 
selfish,  which  it  was  easy  to  conjecture,  and 
impossible  to  mistake.  Their  real  and  only  de- 
sign was  to  sow  dissension  and  disagreement 
among  the  Sicilian  states,  which, fighting  singly, 
might  be  successively  subdued.  How  could 
effrontery  affirm,  or  simplicity  believe,  that  the 
Athenians  should  undertake  a voyage  to  vin- 
dicate the  freedom  of  Egesta ; they  who  op- 
pressed, with  all  the  rigours  of  slavery,  the  un- 
happy islanders  of  Euboea,  by  whom  Egesta 
had  been  built,  and  from  whom  its  inhabitants 
were  descended  1 Under  pretence  of  delivering 
from  the  tyranny  of  the  great  king,  the  Greeks 
of  Asia,  of  the  Hellespont,  of  Thrace,  and  of' 
the  ffEgean,  they  had  conquered  and  enslaved 
those  various  countries.  They  actually  em- 
ployed the  same  perfidious  contrivance  against 
the  safety  of  the  Sicilians ; but  he  trusted  that 
their  present  undertaking,  though  carried  on 
with  equal  artifice,  would  be  attended  with  very 
different  success ; and  that  they  would  learn,  by 
experience,  to  distinguish  between  the  effemi- 
nate Ionians  and  Hellespontines,  whose  minds 
had  been  enfeebled  and  debased  by  the  Persian 
yoke,  and  the  magnanimous  Dorians  of  Sicily, 
the  genuine  offspring  of  Peloponnesus,  the 
source  of  valour  and  of  liberty.”4 

Euphemus,  the  Athenian,  repelled  with  force 
and  spirit,  these  reproachful  accusations.  “ The 
colonies  of  Athens  were  kept  in  a dependence, 
not  less  advantageous  to  themselves  than  hon- 
ourable to  the  parent  state.  The  general  inter- 
est of  Greece  required  that  the  same  republic 
which  at  first  had  so  bravely  established,  should 
still  continue  to  maintain,  the  national  inde- 
pendence. They  who  yield  protection,  must 
assume  authority ; but  this  authority  the  Athe- 
nians had  exerted  in  a manner  essential  to  their 
own  and  to  the  public  safety.  If  they  had 
subjected  the  neighbouring  coasts  and  islands, 
their  interest  might  justify  that  odious  but 
necessary  measure  ; and  the  same  dictates  of 
sound  policy  which  induced  them  to  conquer 
and  to  enslave  the  Hellesponiine  and  Asiatic 
Greeks,  would  engage  them  to  emancipate  and 
to  deliver  the  oppressed  Sicilians.  To  this 
office  they  were  invited  by  the  Leontines  and 
Egestseans ; to  this  duty  they  were  prompted 
by  the  ties  of  friendship  and  consanguinity  ; to 
this  enterprise  they  were  determined  by  the 
strongest  of  all  motives,  a well-grounded  fear 
lest  the  inhabitants  of  Sicily  (whose  numbers 
and  distance  rendered  it  impossible  for  Athens 
to  subdue,  far  less  to  retain  them  in  subjection) 
should  fall  a prey  to  the  watchful  encroach- 
ments of  Syracuse,  and  thus  become  an  acces- 
sion to  the  Peloponnesian  confederacy.”  The 
Camerineans  dreaded  the  distant  ambition  of 


Athens,  but  dreaded  still  more  the  neighbour- 
ing hostility  of  Syracuse.  Their  fears  dictated 
a reply  in  friendly  and  respectful  terms ; but 
they  craved  leave  to  preserve  a neutrality  be- 
tween the  contending  powers,  hoping,  by  this 
expedient,  to  irritate  the  resentment  of  neither, 
yet  to  defeat  the  designs  of  both. 
q.  Mean  while  the  expected  rein- 

xcj  gP*  forcements  arrived  from  Athens. 
A *C  414  ac^ition  his  original  force, 
Nicias  had  likewise  collected  a body 
of  six  hundred  cavalry,  and  the  sum  of  four 
hundred  talents  ; and,  in  the  eighteenth  sum- 
mer of  the  war,  the  activity  of  the  troops  and 
workmen  had  completed  all  necessary  prepara- 
tions for  undertaking  the  siege  of  Syracuse. 
The  Athenian  armament  enjoyed  a prosperous 
voyage  to  the  northern  harbour  of  Trogile,  and 
the  troops  were  no  sooner  disembarked  than  they 
seized  an  opportunity  of  signalizing  their  valour 
against  a body  of  seven  hundred  men,  who 
marched  to  reinforce  the  garrison  of  Labdalus ; 
an  important  fortress  situate  on  the  highest  of 
the  mountains  which  overlook  and  command 
the  city.  Three  hundred  Syracusans  were  kill- 
ed in  the  pursuit ; the  rest  took  refuge  behind 
their  walls;  and  the  castle  of  Labdalus  was 
taken,  and  strongly  guarded  by  the  victors. 
The  plan  which  Nicias  adopted  for  conquering 
the  city,  was  to  draw  a wall  on  either  side  from 
the  neighbourhood  of  Labdalus,  towards  the 
port  of  Trogile  on  the  north,  and  towards  the 
gulf,  extending  two  leagues  in  circumference, 
and  justly  called  the  Great  Harbour,  on  the 
south.  When  these  circumvallations  had  sur- 
rounded the  place  by  land,  he  expected,  by  his 
numerous  fleet,  to  block  up  the  wide  extent  of 
the  Syracusan  harbours.  The  whole  strength 
of  the  Athenian  armament  was  employed  in 
the  former  operations  ; and  as  all  necessary  ma- 
terials had  been  provided  with  due  attention, 
the  works  rose  with  a rapidity  which  surprised 
and  terrified  the  besieged.  Their  former  as 
well  as  their  recent  defeat,  deterred  them  from 
opposing  the  enemy  in  a general  engagement ; 
but  the  advice  of  Hermocrates  persuaded  them 
to  raise  walls,  which  might  traverse  and  inter- 
rupt those  of  the  Athenians.5  The  imminent 
danger  urged  the  activity  of  the  workmen ; the 
hostile  bulwarks  approached  each  other ; fre- 
quent skirmishes  took  place,  in  one  of  which 
the  brave  Lamachus  unfortunately  fell  a vic- 
tim to  his  rash  valour  ;6  but  the  Athenian 
troops  maintained  their  usual  superiority. 

Encouraged  by  success,  Nicias  pushed  the 
enemy  with  vigour.  The  Syracusans  lost 
hopes  of  defending  their  new  works,  or  of  pre- 
venting the  complete  circumvallation  of  their 
city  ; and  this  despair  was  increased  by  the 
abundant  supplies  which  arrived  from  all  quar- 
ters to  the  besiegers,  while  the  interest  of  Sy- 
racuse seemed  to  be  universally  abandoned  by 
the  indifference  or  cowardice  of  her  allies.  In 
the  turbulent  democracies  of  Greece,  the  mo- 
ment of  public  danger  commonly  gave  the  signal 
for  domestic  sedition.  The  populace  clamoured, 
with  their  usual  licentiousness,  against  the  inca- 
pacity or  perfidy  of  their  leaders,  to  whom  alone 


4 Thueydid.  1.  vi.  p.  463,  et  scq. 


5 Tbucydid.  J.  vi.p.  482,  etseq. 


6 Plutarch  in  Nicia. 


230 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


they  ascribed  their  misfortunes.  New  generals 
were  named  in  the  room  of  Hermocrates  and 
his  colleagues  ; and  this  injudicious  alteration 
increased  the  calamities  of  Syracuse,  which  at 
length  prepared  to  capitulate.1 
qj  While  the  assembly  deliberated 

concerning  the  execution  of  a mea- 
A *C  414  sure’  however  disgraceful, 

' was  declared  to  be  necessary,  a Co- 
rinthian galley,  commanded  by  Gongylus,  en- 
tered the  central  harbour  of  Ortygia,  which 
being  strongly  fortified,  and  penetrating  into 
the  heart  of  the  city,  served  as  the  principal 
and  most  secure  station  for  the  Syracusan  fleet. 
The  news  immediately  reached  the  assembly, 
and  all  ranks  of  men  eagerly  crowded  around 
Gongylus  the  Corinthian,  that  they  might  learn 
the  design  of  his  voyage,  and  the  intentions  of 
their  Poloponnesian  allies.  Gongylus  announ- 
ced a speedy  and  effectual  relief  to  the  besieged 
city.2  He  acquainted  the  Syracusans,  that  the 
embassy,  sent  the  preceding  year  to  crave  the 
assistance  of  Peloponnesus,  had  been  crowned 
with  success.  His  own  countrymen  had  warmly 
embraced  the  cause  of  their  kinsmen,  and  most 
respectable  colony.  They  had  fitted  out  a con- 
siderable fleet,  the  arrival  of  which  might  be 
expected  every  hour.  The  Lacedaemonians 
also  had  sent  a small  squadron,  and  the  whole 
armament  was  conducted  by  the  Spartan  Gy- 
lippus,  an  officer  of  tried  valour  and  ability. 

While  the  desponding  citizens  of  Syracuse 
listened  to  this  intelligence  with  pleasing  asto- 
nishment, a messenger  arrived  by  land  from  Gy- 
lippus  himself.  That  experienced  commander, 
instead  of  pursuing  a direct  course  to  Sicily, 
which  might  have  been  intercepted  by  the 
Athenian  fleet,  had  landed  with  four  galleys  on 
the  western  coast  of  the  island.  The  name  of 
a Spartan  general  determined  the  wavering  ir- 
resolution of  the  Sicilians.  The  troops  of  Hi- 
mera,  Selinus,  and  Gela,  flocked  to  his  stan- 
dard ; and  he  approached  Syracuse  on  the  side 
of  Epipole,  where  the  line  of  contravallation 
was  still  unfinished,  with  a body  of  several 
thousand  men. 

The  most  courageous  of  the  citizens  sallied 
forth  to  meet  this  generous  and  powerful  pro- 
tector. The  junction  was  happily  effected ; the 
ardour  of  the  troops  kindled  into  enthusiasm  ; 
and  they  distinguished  that  memorable  day  by 
surprising  several  important  Athenian  posts. 
This  first  success  re-animated  the  activity  of 
the  soldiers  and  workmen.  The  traverse  wall 
was  extended  with  the  utmost  diligence,  and  a 
vigorous  sally  deprived  the  enemy  of  the  strong 
castle  of  Labdalus.  Nicias  perceiving  that  the 
interest  of  the  Athenians  in  Sicily  would  be 
continually  weakened  by  delay,  wished  to  bring 
the  fortune  of  war  to  the  decision  of  a battle. 
Nor  did  Gylippus  decline  the  engagement.  The 
first  action  was  unfavourable  to  the  Syracusans, 
who  had  been  imprudently  posted  in  the  defiles 
between  their  own  and  the  enemy’s  walls, 
which  rendered  of  no  avail  their  superiority  in 
cavalry  and  archers.  The  magnanimity  of 
Gylippus  acknowledged  this  error,  for  which  he 
completely  atoned  by  his  judicious  conduct  in 


1 Thucydid.  p.  487. 


2 Thucydid.  p.  490. 


[Chap. 

the  succeeding  engagements.  His  forces  were 
drawn  up  in  a more  spacious  ground.  The 
pikemen  received  the  shock  of  the  enemy’s 
front.  The  horses  and  light-armed  troops  as- 
sailed and  harassed  their  undefended  flanks. 
The  Athenians  were  thrown  into  disorder,  re- 
pulsed, and  pursued  to  their  camp  with  con- 
siderable loss,  and  with  irreparable  disgrace. 

The  important  consequences  of  this  victory 
appeared  in  the  subsequent  events  of  the  siege 
The  Syracusans  soon  extended  their  works  be- 
yond the  line  of  circumvallation,  so  that  it  was 
impossible  to  block  up  their  city,  without  forcing 
their  ramparts.  The  besiegers,  while  they  main- 
tained the  superiority  of  their  arms,  had  been 
abundantly  supplied  with  necessaries  from  the 
neighbouring  territory ; but  every  place  was 
alike  hostile  to  them  after  their  defeat.  The 
soldiers  wljp  went  out  in  quest  of  wood  and 
water,  were  unexpectedly  attacked  and  cut  off 
by  the  enemy’s  cavalry,  or  by  the  reinforce- 
ments which  arrived  from  every  quarter  to  the 
assistance  of  Syracuse;  and  they  were  at  length 
reduced  to  depend,  for  every  necessary  supply, 
on  the  precarious  bounty  of  the  Italian  shore. 

Nicias,  whose  sensibility  deeply  felt  the  pub- 
lic distress,  wrote  a most  desponding  letter  to 
the  Athenians.  He  honestly  described,  and 
lamented,  the  misfortunes  and  disorders  of  his 
army.  The  slaves  deserted  in  great  numbers ; 
the  mercenary  troops,  who  fought  only  for  pay 
and  subsistence,  preferred  the  more  secure  and 
lucrative  service  of  Syracuse ; even  the  Athe- 
nian citizens,  disgusted  with  the  unexpected 
length  and  intolerable  hardships  of  the  war, 
abandoned  the  care  of  the  galleys  to  inexpe- 
rienced hands ; an  abuse  too  easily  permitted 
by  the  captains,  whose  weakness  and  partiality 
had  corrupted  the  discipline,  and  ruined  the 
strength,  of  the  fleet.  Nicias  frankly  acknow- 
ledged his  inability  to  check  the  disorder ; ob- 
serving, that  he  wrote  to  those  who  knew  the 
difficulty  of  governing  the  licentious  spirit  of 
their  domestic  troops.  He  therefore  exhorted 
the  assembly,  either  to  call  them  home  without 
delay,  or  to  send  immediately  a second  arma- 
ment, not  less  powerful  than  the  first. 

Olvm  Gylippus  and  Hermocrates  (for 

the  latter  had  again  assumed  the 
A C *413  authority  due  to  his  abilities)  were 
acquainted  with  the  actual  distress, 
as  well  as  the  future  hopes  of  the  besiegers, 
who  might  derive,  in  consequence  of  Nicias’s 
letter,  more  effectual  succours  from  Attica  than 
the  besieged  city  could  expect  from  Pelopon- 
nesus. They  were  prompted  by  interest  there- 
fore, as  well  as  by  inclination,  to  press  the  ene- 
my on  every  side,  and  at  once  to  assail  them  by 
sea  and  land.  Besides  the  bad  condition  of 
the  Athenian  fleet,  the  absence  of  a considerable 
number  of  galleys  employed  in  conducting  the 
convoys  of  provisions,  encouraged  this,  resolu- 
tion. The  Corinthian  squadron  of  twrelve  sail, 
long  expected  with  anxiety,  had  escaped  the 
dangers  of  a winter’s  voyage ; and  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  ensuing  spring,  the  harbours 
of  Syracuse  were  crowded  with  the  whole  naval 
strength  of  Sicily.  Plermocrates  persuaded  his 
countrymen,  “ That  the  advantages  of  skill  and 
experience,  wrhich  he  honestly  ascribed  to  the 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


231 


XX.] 

Athenians,  could  not  compensate  their  terror 
and  confusion  at  being  suddenly  attacked  by  a 
superior  force,  on  an  element  which  they  af- 
fected to  command.  Athens  had  assumed  this 
boasted  empire  of  the  sea  in  repelling  the  in 
vasion  of  Persia.  Syracuse  had  a similar,  yet 
stronger  motive  ; and  as  she  possessed  greater 
power,  was  entitled  to  expect  more  distinguish 
ed  success.” 

The  principal  squadrons  of  Syracuse  lay  in 
the  harbour  of  Ortygia,  separated,  by  an  island 
of  the  same  name,  from  the  station  of  the  Alhe 
nian  fleet.  While  Hermocrates  sailed  forth 
with  eighty  galleys,  to  venture  a naval  engage- 
ment, Gylippus  attacked  the  hostile  fortifica' 
tions  at  Plemmyrium,  a promontory  opposite 
to  Ortygia,  which  confined  the  entrance  of  the 
Great  Harbour.  The  defeat  of  the  Syracusans 
at  sea,  whereby  they  lost  fourteen  vessels,  was 
balanced  by  their  victory  at  land,  in  which  they 
took  three  fortresses,  containing  a large  quan 
tity  of  military  and  naval  stores,  and  a con- 
siderable sum  of  money.  In  some  subsequent 
actions,  which  scarcely  deserve  the  name  of 
battles,  their  fleet  was  still  unsuccessful ; but  as 
they  engaged  with  great  caution,  and  found 
every  where  a secure  retreat  on  a friendly 
shore,  their  loss  wTas  extremely  inconsiderable 
The  want  of  success,  in  their  first  attempt,  did 
not  abate  their  resolution  to  gain  the  command 
at  sea.  The  hopes  of  defending  their  country 
sharpened  their  invention,  and  animated  their 
activity.  They  could  not,  indeed,  contend  with 
the  Athenians  in  the  rapidity  of  naval  evolution, 
or  in  the  skill  of  seamanship  ; but  in  the  des 
tined  scene  of  action,  there  was  little  opportu- 
nity for  displaying  those  advantages ; aijd  by 
strengthening,  with  unremitting  labour,  the 
prows  of  their  ships,  they  compensated,  by  su 
perior  weight,  the  defect  of  velocity.  They 
provided  also  a great  number  of  small  vessels, 
which  might  approach  so  near  the  hostile  fleet, 
that  the  light-armed  troops  with  which  they 
were  filled  could  aim  their  darts  against  the 
Athenian  mariners. 

By  unexampled  assiduity  in  completing  these 
preparations,  the  Syracusans  at  length  pre- 
vailed in  a general  engagement,  which  was 
fought  in  the  Great  Harbour.  Sev^i  Athenian 
ships  were  sunk,  many  more  were  disabled, 
and  Nicias  saved  the  remains  of  his  shattered 
and  dishonoured  armament,  by  retiring  behind 
a line  of  merchantmen  and  transports,  from 
the  masts  of  which  had  been  suspended  huge 
masses  of  lead,  named  dolphins,  from  their 
form,  sufficient  to  crush,  by  their  falling  weight, 
the  stoutest  galleys  of  antiquity.  This  unex- 
pected obstacle  arrested  the  progress  of  the 
victors;  but  the  advantages  already  obtained 
elevated  them  with  the  highest  hopes,  and 
reduced  the  enemy  to  despair. 

Thm  Athenian  misfortunes  in 
Sicily  were  attended  by  misfor 


Olymp 
xci.  3. 


A.  C.  414. 


tunes  at  home,  still  more  dreadful. 


In  the  eighteenth  year  of  the  war, 
Alcibiades  accompanied  to  Sparta  Ihe  ambassa- 
dors of  Corinth  and  Syracuse,  who  had  solicited 
and  obtained  assistance  to  the  besieged  city. 
On  that  occasion  the  Athenian  exile  first  ac- 
quired the  confidence  of  the  Spartans,  by  con- 


demning, in  the  strongest  terms,  the  injustice 
and  ambition  of  his  ungrateful  countrymen, 
“ whose  cruelty  towards  himself  equalled  their 
inveterate  hostility  to  the  Lacedaemonian  re- 
public ; but  that  republic  might,  by  following 
his  advice,  disarm  their  resentment.  The  town 
of  Decelia  was  situated  on  the  Attic  frontier,  at 
an  equal  distance  of  fifteen  miles  from  Thebes 
and  Athens.  This  place,  which  commanded  an 
extensive  and  fertile  plain,  might  be  surprised* 
and  fortified  by  the  Spartans,3  who,  instead 
of  harassing  their  foes  by  annual  incursions, 
might  thus  infest  them  by  a continual  war. 
The  wisdom  of  Sparta  had  too  long  neglected 
such  a salutary  and  decisive  measure,  especially 
as  the  existence  of  a similar  design  had  often 
been  suggested  by  the  fears  of  the  enemy,  who 
trembled  even  at  the  apprehension  of  seeing  a 
foreign  garrison  in  their  territory.” 

Olvm  This  a(^v^ce  ^rst  proposed,  and 

xcj^  often  urged,  by  Alcibiades,  was 

A C 413  ad°Pted  4n  ^ie  commencement  of 
the  ensuing  spring,  when  the  war- 
like Agis  led  a powerful  army  into  Attica. 
The  defenceless  inhabitants  of  the  frontier  fled 
before,  his  irresistible  arms;  but  instead  of  pur- 
suing them,  as  usual,  into  the  heart  of  the 
country,  he  stopped  short  at  Decelia.  As  all 
necessary  materials  had  been  provided  in  great 
abundance,  the  place  was  speedily  fortified  on 
every  side,  and  the  walls  of  Decelia,  which 
might  be  distinctly  seen  across  the  intermediate 
plain,  bid  defiance  to  those  of  Athens.4 

The  latter  city  was  kept  in  continual  alarm 
by  the  watchful  hostility  of  a neighbouring 
garrison.  The  open  country  was  entirely  laid 
waste,  and  the  usual  communication  was  in- 
terrupted with  the  valuable  island  of  Euboea, 
from  which,  in  seasons  of  scarcity,  or  during 
the  ravages  of  war,  the  Athenians  commonly 
derived  their  supplies  of  corn,  wine,  and  oil,  and 
whatever  is  most  necessary  to  life.  Harassed 
by  the  fatigues  of  unremitting  service,  and 
deprived  of  daily  bread,  the  slaves  murmured 
complained,  and  revolted  to  the  enemy;  ant? 
their  defection  robbed  the  state  of  twenty 
thousand  useful  artisans.  Since  the  latter 
years  of  Pericles,  the  Athenians  had  not  been 
involved  in  such  distress.  But  their  present 
were  far  more  grievous  than  their  past  suffer 
ings.  These  had  been  chiefly  occasioned  by 
the  temporary  rage  of  the  pestilence,  the  abate- 
ment of  which  there  wras  always  reason  to  ex- 
pect; but  those  were  inflicted  by  the  unex- 
tinguishable  hatred  of  a cruel  and  unrelenting 
foe.5 

The  domestic  calamities  of  the  republic  did 
not,  however,  prevent  the  most  vigorous  exer- 
tions abroad.  Twenty  galleys,  stationed  at 
Naupactus,  watched  the  motions  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian fleet  destined  to  the  assistance  of 
Syracuse;  thirty  carried  on  the  war  in  Mace- 
donia, to  reduce  the  rebellion  of  Amphipolis ; 
a considerable  squadron  collected  tribute,  and 


3 Tlie  Athenians,  with  their  usual  imprudence,  facilitated 
the  success  of  Alcibiadcs’s  intrigues.  At  the  time  they 
ought,  if  possible,  to  have  soothed,  they  exasperated  the 
Spartans  to  the  utmost,  by  frequent  incursions  from  Pylus, 
and  by  openly  assisting  tho  Argives.  Thucyd.  1.  vi.  sub  fine. 

4 Thucydid.  p.  500,  ot  seq.  5 Id.  ibid. 


232 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


levied  soldiers,  in  the  colonies  of  Asia;  another, 
still  more  powerful,  ravaged  the  coast  of  Pelo- 
ponnesus. Never  did  any  kingdom  or  republic 
equal  the  magnanimity  of  Athens  ; never  in 
ancient  or  modern  times,  did  the  courage  of 
any  state  entertain  an  ambition  so  far  supe- 
rior to  its  power,  or  exert  efforts  so  dispropor- 
tionate to  its  strength.  Amidst  the  difficulties 
and  dangers  which  encompassed  them  on  every 
side,  the  Athenians  persisted  in  the  siege  of 
Syracuse,  a city  little  inferior  to  their  own; 
and,  undaunted  by  the  actual  devastation  of 
their  country,  unterrified  by  the  menaced  as- 
sault of  their  walls,  they  sent,  without  delay, 
such  a reinforcement  into  Sicily,  as  afforded 
the  most  promising  hopes  of  success  in  their 
expedition  against  that  island.1 
q.  The  Syracusans  had  scarcely  tim  e 

xc^  to  rejoice  at  their  victory,  or  Nicias 

A *C*413  t0  bewail  his  defeat,  when  a nu- 
merous and  formidable  armament 
appeared  on  the  Sicilian  coast.  The  foremost 
galleys,  their  prows  adorned  with  gaudy 
streamers,  pursued  a secure  course  towards  the 
harbours  of  Syracuse.  The  emulation  of  the 
rowers  was  animated  by  the  mingled  sounds  of 
the  trumpet  and  clarion ; and  the  regular  decora- 
tion, the  elegant  splendour,  which  distinguished 
every  part  of  the  equipment,  exhibited  a pomp- 
ous spectacle  of  naval  triumph.’  Their  appear- 
ance, even  at  a distance,  announced  the  country 
to  which  they  belonged ; and  both  the  joy  of 
the  besiegers,  and  the  terror  of  the  besieged, 
acknowledged  that  Athens  was  the  only  city  in 
the  world  capable  of  sending  to  the  sea  such  a 
beautiful  and  magnificent  contribution.  The 
Syracusans  employed  not  unavailing  efforts  to 
check  the  progress,  or  to  hinder  the  approach, 
of  the  hostile  armament;  which,  besides  innu- 
merable foreign  vessels  and  transports, consisted 
of  seventy-three  Athenian  galleys,  commanded 
by  the  experienced  valour  of  Demosthenes  and 
Eurymedon.  The  pikemen  on  board  exceeded 
five  thousand;  the  light-armed  troops  were 
nearly  as  numerous ; and,  including  the  rowers, 
workmen,  and  attendants,  the  whole  strength 
may  be  reckoned  equal  to  that  originally  sent 
with  Nicias,2  which  amounted  to  above  twenty 
thousand  men. 

The  misfortunes  hitherto  attending  the  ope- 
rations in  Sicily  had  lowered  the  character  of 
the  general ; and  this  circumstance,  as  well  as 
the  superior  abilities  of  Demosthenes,  entitled 
him  to  assume  the  tone  of  authority  in  their 
conjunct  deliberations.  His  advice,  which 
Eurymedon  highly  approved,  and  in  which  the 
dilatory  caution  of  Nicias  finally  acquiesced, 
was  clear  and  simple.  M They  ought  to  avail 
themselves  of  the  alarm  which  the  unexpected 
arrival  of  such  a powerful  reinforcement  had 
spread  among  the  enemy;  and  instead  of  sub- 
mitting to  the  tedious  formalities  of  a siege,  at 
once  assault  the  walls  of  Syracuse.  He  trusted, 
by  the  valour  of  his  troops,  to  obtain,  in  one 
day,  the  valuable  reward  of  long  and  severe 
labours.  But  if  the  gods  had  otherwise  deter- 
mined, it  would  be  time  to  desist  from  an  enter- 

1 Thucydid.  p.  501,  et  seq. 

2 Comp.  Thucydid.  supra  citat.  Diodor.  1.  xiii.  p.  336. 
Plut.  in  Nicia. 


[Chai\ 

prise,  in  which  delay  was  equal  to  defeat,  and 
to  employ  the  bravery  of  the  Athenian  youth 
in  repelling  the  invaders  of  their  country  .”3 

After  ravaging  the  banks  of  the  Anapus,  and 
making  some  ineffectual  attempts  against  the 
fortifications  on  that  side,  probably  with  a view 
to  divert  the  attention  of  the  enemy,  Demos- 
thenes chose  the  first  hour  of  a moonshine 
night,  to  proceed  with  the  flower  of  the  army 
to  seize  the  fortresses  in  Epipole.  The  march 
was  performed  with  successful  celerity;  the 
out-posts  were  surprised  ; the  guards  put  to  the 
sword ; and  three  separate  encampments,  of  the 
Syracusans,  the  Sicilians,  and  allies,  formed  a 
feeble  opposition  to  the  Athenian  ardour.  As 
if  their  victory  had  already  been  complete,  the 
assailants  began  to  pull  down  the  wooden  bat- 
tlements, or  to  urge  the  pursuit  with  a rapidity 
which  disordered  their  ranks. 

Mean  while,  the  vigilant  activity  of  Gy  lip- 
pus  had  assembled  the  whole  force  of  Syracuse. 

At  the  approach  of  the  enemy  his  vanguard 
retired.  The  Athenians  were  decoyed  within 
the  intricate  windings  of  the  walls,  and  their 
irregular  fury  was  first  checked  by  the  firmness 
of  a Theban  phalanx.  A resistance  so  sudden 
and  unexpected  might  alone  have  been  deci- 
sive ; but  other  circumstances  were  adverse  to 
the  Athenians:  their  ignorance  of  the  ground, 
the  alternate  obscurity  of  night,  and  the  deceit- 
ful glare  of  the  moon,  which,  shining  in  the 
front  of  the  Thebans,  illumined  the  splendour 
of  their  arms,  and  multiplied  the  terror  of  their 
numbers.  The  foremost  ranks  of  the  pursuers 
were  repelled;  and,  as  they  retreated  to  the 
main  body,  encountered  the  advancing  Argives 
and  Corcyreans,  who,  singing  the  Psean  in  their 
Doric  dialect  and  accent,  were  unfortunately 
taken  for  enemies.  Fear,  and  then  rage,  seized 
the  Athenians,  who  thinking  themselves  en- 
compassed on  all  sides,  determined  to  force 
their  way, s and  committed  much  bloodshed 
among  their  allies,  before  the  mistake  could  be 
discovered.  To  prevent  the  repetition  of  this 
dreadful  error,  their  scattered  bands  were 
obliged  at  every  moment  to  demand  the  watch- 
word, which  was  at  length  betrayed  to  their 
adversaries.  The  consequence  of  this  was 
doubly  fatal.  At  every  rencounter  the  silent^f 
Athenians  were  slaughtered  without  mercy,* 
while  the  enemy,  who  knew  their  watch-word, 
might  at  pleasure  join,  or  decline,  the  battle, 
and  easily  oppress  their  weakness,  or  elude 
their  strength.  The  terror  and  confusion  in- 
creased; the  rout  became  general;  Gylippus 
pursued  in  good  order  with  his  victorious 
troops.  The  vanquished  could  not  descend  in 
a body  with  the  celerity  of  fear,  by  the  narrow 
passages  through  which  they  had  mounted. 
Many  abandoned  their  arms,  and  explored  the 
unknown  paths  of  the  rocky  Epipole.  Others 
threw  themselves  from  precipices,  rather  them 
await  the  pursuers.  Several  thousands  were 
left  dead  or  wounded  on  the  scene  of  action; 
and  in  the  morning  the  greater  part  of  the 
stragglers  were  intercepted  and  cut  off  by  the 
Syracusan  cavalry.3 4 


3 Thucydid.  1.  vii.  p.  519. 

4 Thucydid.  p.  52Q,  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


233 


XX.] 

This  dreadful  and  unexpected  disaster  sus- 
pended the  operations  of  the  siege.  The  Athe- 
nian generals  spent  the  time  in  fruitless  de- 
liberations concerning  their  future  measures, 
while  the  army  lay  encamped  on  the  marshy 
and  unhealthy  banks  of  the  Anapus.  The 
vicissitudes  of  an  autumnal  atmosphere,  cor- 
rupted by  the  foul  vapours  of  an  unwholesome 
soil,  made  a severe  impression  on  the  irritable 
fibres  of  men,- exhausted  by  fatigue,  dejected 
by  disgrace,  and  deprived  of  hope.  A general 
sickness  broke  out  in  the  camp.  Demosthenes 
urged  this  calamity  as  a new  reason  for  hasten- 
ing their  departure,  while  it  was  yet  possible 
to  cross  the  Ionian  sea,  without  risking  the 
danger  of  a winter’s  tempest.  But  Nicias  dis- 
suaded the  design  of  leaving  Sicily  until  they 
should  be  warranted  to  take  this  important 
step  by  the  positive  authority  of  the  republic. 
“ Those  who  were  actually  the  most  bent  on 
ignominious  flight,  would,  after  their  return, 
be  the  foremost  to  accuse  the  weakness  or  the 
treachery  of  their  commanders;  and  for  his 
own  part,  he  would  rather  die  honourably  in 
the  field  of  battle,  than  perish  by  the  unjust 
sentence  of  his  country.”  Demosthenes  and 
Eurymedon  knew,  by  fatal  experience,  the 
irascible  temper  of  an  Athenian  assembly;  they 
only  insisted,  that  the  armament  should  at 
least  remove  to  a more  convenient  station, 
from  whence,  after  the  troops  had  recovered 
their  usual  health  and  spirits,  they  might  harass 
the  enemy  by  continual  descents,  until  they 
obtained  an  opportunity  of  fighting  the  Syra- 
cusan fleet  on  the  open  sea. 

But  even  this  resolution  was  strenuously  op- 
posed by  Nicias,  who  knew  by  the  secret  cor- 
respondence which  he  maintained  with  certain 
traitors  in  Syracuse,  that  the  treasury  of  that 
city  had  been  exhausted  by  the  enormous  ex- 
pense of  two  thousand  talents  already  incurred 
in  the  war,  and  that  the  magistrates  had 
stretched  their  credit  to  its  utmost  limits,  in 
borrowing  from  their  allies;  and  who  therefore 
naturally  flattered  himself,  that  the  vigour  of 
their  assistance  would  abate  with  the  decay  of 
thdlr  faculties.  The  colleagues  of  Nicias  were 
confounded  with  the  firmness  of  an  opposition 
so  unlike  the  flexible  timidity  of  his  ordinary 
character,  and  so  inconsistent  with  the  senti- 
ments which  he  had  often  expressed  concern- 
ing the  Sicilian  expedition.  They  imagined 
that  he  might  rely  on  some  more  important 
ground  of  confidence,  which  his  caution  was 
unwilling  to  explain;  they  submitted  therefore 
to  his  opinion,  an  opinion  equally  fatal  to  him- 
self and  to  them,  and  to  the  armament  which 
they  commanded.0 

Mean  while  the  prudence  of  Gylippus  profited 
of  the  fame  of  his  victory,  to  draw  a powerful 
reinforcement  from  the  Sicilian  cities;  and  the 
transports,  so  long  expected  from  Peloponnesus, 
finally  arrived  in  the  harbour  of  Ortygia.  The 
Peloponnesian  forces  had  sailed  from  Greece 
early  in  the  spring ; and  it  is  not  explained  for 
what  reason  they  touched  on  the  coast  of  Cyre- 
naica.  There  they  continued  for  some  months, 
that  they  might  defend  their  Grecian  brethren, 


5 Comp.  Thucydid.  p.  524.  ct  Plut.  in  Nicia. 
2 G 


actually  threatened  by  the  barbarous  assaults  of 
the  Lybians  ; and  having  conquered  that  dan- 
gerous enemy,  they  augmented  their  fleet  with 
a few  Cyrenian  galleys,6  and  safely  reached 
Syracuse,  the  place  of  their  first  destination. 
This  squadron  formed  the  last  assistance  sent 
to  either  of  the  contending  parties,  and  nothing 
farther  was  required  to  complete  the  actors  in 
the  following  dreadful  scene  ; for  by  the  acces- 
sion of  the  Cyrenians,  Syracuse  was  either  at- 
tacked or  defended  by  all  the  various  divisions 
of  the  Grecian  name,  which  formed,  in  that 
age,  the  most  civilized  portion  of  the  inhabitants 
of  Asia,  Africa,  and  Europe. 

The  arrival  of  such  powerful  auxiliaries  to 
the  besieged,  and  the  increasing  force  of  the 
malady,  totally  disconcerted  the  Athenians. 
Even  Nicias  agreed  to  set  sail.  Every  necessary 
preparation  was  made  for  this  purpose,  and  the 
cover  of  night  was  chosen,  as  most  proper  for 
concealing  their  own  disgrace,  and  for  eluding 
the  vengeance  of  the  enemy.  But  the  night 
appointed  for  their  departure  was  distinguished 
by  an  inauspicious  eclipse  of  the  moon,  for  so 
at  least  it  was  judged  by  the  superstitious  fears 
of  Nicias,  and  by  the  ignorance  of  his  diviners,7 
even  in  the  vain  art  which  they  professed. 
The  voyage  was  deferred  till  the  mystical  num- 
ber of  thrice  nine  days.  But  before  the  expi- 
ration of  that  time  it  was  no  longer  practicable; 
for  the  design  was  soon  discovered  to  the  Sy- 
racusans, and  this  discovery,  added  to  the  en- 
couragement derived  from  the  circumstances 
of  which  we  have  already  taken  notice,  increas- 
ed their  eagerness  to  attack  the  enemy  by  sea 
and  land.  Their  attempts  failed  to  destroy,  by 
fire-ships,  the  Athenian  fleet.  They  were  more 
successful  in  employing  superior  numbers  to 
divide  the  strength,  and  to  weaken  the  resist- 
ance, of  an  enfeebled  and  dejected  foe.  During 
three  days  there  was  a perpetual  succession  of 
military  and  naval  exploits.  On  the  first  day 
fortune  hung  in  suspense  ; the  second  deprived 
the  Athenians  of  a considerable  squadron  com- 
manded by  Eurymedon  ; and  this  misfortune 
was  embittered,  on  the  third  day,  by  the  loss 
of  eighteen  galleys,  with  their  crews.8 

The  Syracusans  celebrated  their  victory  with 
triumphant  enthusiasm ; while  their  orators 
“ extolled  and  magnified  the  glory  of  a city, 
which,  by  its  native  prowess  and  single  danger, 
had  not  only  maintained  the  independence  of 
Sicily,  but  avenged  the  injuries  of  the  whole 
Grecian  name,  too  long  dishonoured  and  af- 
flicted by  the  oppressive  tyranny  of  Athens. 
That  tyranny  had  been  acquired  and  confirmed 
by  the  usurped  sovereignty  of  the  sea ; but 
even  on  that  element,  the  courage  of  Syracuse 
had  defeated  tire  experience  of  the  enemy. 
Their  renown  would  be  immortal,  if  they  ac- 
complished the  useful  and  meritorious  work  ; 
and  if,  by  intercepting  the  retreat,  and  destroy- 
ing the  armament  of  the  Athenians,  they  crushed 
at  once  the  power,  and  for  ever  humbled  the 
pride,  of  that  aspiring  people.” 


C>  Thucydid.  p 527. 

7 The  rules  of  divination,  we  are  told,  should  have  taught 
them,  that  the  obscurity  of  an  eclipse  betokened  a successful 
retreat.  Plutarch,  in  Nicia. 

8 Thucydid.  p.  528,  et  seq 


234 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


This  design,  suggested  by  the  wisdom  of 
Hermocrates,  was  eagerly  adopted  by  the  active 
zeal  of  his  fellow  citizens,  who  strove,  with  un- 
remitting ardour,  to  throw  a chain  of  vessels 
across  the  mouth  of  the  Great  Harbour,  about 
a mile  in  breadth.  The  labour  was  complete 
before  Nicias,  totally  occupied  by  other  objects, 
attempted  to  interrupt  it.  After  repeated  de- 
feats, and  although  he  was  so  miserably  tor- 
mented by  the  stone,  that  he  had  frequently 
solicited  his  recal,  that  virtuous  commander, 
whose  courage  rose  in  adversity,  used  the  ut- 
most diligence  to  retrieve  the  affairs  of  his 
country.  The  shattered  galleys  were  speedily 
refitted,  and  again  prepared,  to  the  number  of 
a hundred  and  ten,  to  risk  the  event  of  a battle. 
As  they  had  suffered  greatly,  on  former  occa- 
sions, by  the  hardness  and  massive  solidity  of 
the  Syracusan  prows,  Nicias  provided  them 
with  grappling-irons,  fitted  to  prevent  the  re- 
coil of  their  opponents,  and  the  repetition  of  the 
hostile  stroke.  The  decks  were  crowded  with 
armed  men,  and  the  contrivance  to  which  the 
enemy  had  hitherto  chiefly  owed  their  success, 
of  introducing  the  firmness  and  stability  of  a 
military,  into  a naval  engagement,  was  adopted 
in  its  full  extent  by  the  Athenians.  When  the 
fleet  was  ready  for  sea,  Nicias  recalled  the 
troops  from  the  various  posts  and  fortresses  still 
occupied  by  their  arms,  and  formed  them  into 
one  camp  on  the  shore,  where,  on  the  day  of 
battle,  their  ranks  might  be  extended  as  widely 
as  the  vicinity  of  the  Syracusan  ramparts  could 
safely  permit ; that  a spacious  retreat  might  be 
secured  to  the  Athenian  ships,  if  persecuted  by 
their  usual  bad  fortune  ; in  which  fatal  alterna- 
tive nothing  remained,  but  to  retire  by  land  with 
the  miserable  remnant  of  the  army.  But  Nicias 
did  not  yet  despair,  that  the  last  efforts  of  his 
countrymen  would  break  the  enemy’s  chain  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Great  Harbour ; and  that 
they  would  return  victorious,  to  transport  their 
encamped  companions  to  the  friendly  ports  of 
Naxos  and  Catana. 

Elevated  by  this  hope,  he  forgot  his  bodily 
infirmities,  and  suppressed  the  anguish  of  his 
soul.  With  a cheerful  and  magnanimous  firm- 
ness, he  removed  the  dejection  of  the  Athenians, 
exhorting  them,  before  they  embarked,  by  an 
affecting  and  manly  speech,  “ to  remember  the 
vicissitudes  of  war,  and  the  instability  of  for- 
tune.1 Though  hitherto  unsuccessful,  they  had 
every  thing  to  expect  from  the  strength  of  their 
actual  preparations ; nor  ought  men,  who  had 
tried  and  surmounted  so  many  dangers,  to  yield 
to  the  weak  prejudices  of  unexperienced  folly, 
and  cloud  the  prospect  of  future  victory,  by  the 
gloomy  remembrance  of  past  defeat.  They  yet 
enjoyed  an  opportunity  to  defend  their  lives, 
their  liberty,  their  friends,  their  country,  and 
the  mighty  name  of  Athens;  an  opportunity 
which  never  could  return,  since  the  whole  for- 
tune of  the  republic  was  embarked  in  the  present 
fleet.”  When  Gylippus  and  the  Syracusan  com- 
manders were  apprised  of  the  designs  of  the 
enemy,  they  hastened  to  the  defence  of  the  bar 
which  had  been  thrown  across  the  entrance  of 
the  harbour.  It  is  uncertain  for  what  reason 


they  had  left  open  one  narrow  passage,2  on 
either  side  of  which  they  stationed  a powerful 
squadron.  Gylippus  animated  the  sailors  with 
such  topics  as  the  occasion  naturally  furnished, 
and  returned  to  take  the  conduct  of  the  land 
forces,  leaving  Sicanus,  Agatharchus,  and  Py 
then,  the  two  first  to  command  the  wings,  and 
the  last,  a citizen  of  Corinth,  to  command  the 
centre,  of  the  Syracusan  fleet,  which  fell  short 
of  the  Athenian  by  the  number  of  twenty  gallies. 
But  the  former  was  admirably  provided  with 
whatever  seemed  most  necessary  for  attack  or 
defence ; even  the  Athenian  grappling-irons 
had  not  been  overlooked ; to  elude  the  danger- 
ous grasp  of  these  instruments,  the  prows  of  the 
Syracusan  vessels  were  covered  with  wet  and 
slippery  hides. 

Before  the  Athenians  set  sail,  Nicias,  that 
nothing  might  be  neglected  to  obtain  success, 
went  round  the  whole  armament,  addressing,  in 
the  most  pathetic  terms,  the  several  command- 
ers by  name,  recalling  to  them  the  objects  most 
dear  and  most  respectable,  which  they  were  en- 
gaged by  every  tie  of  honour  and  affection  to  de- 
fend, and  conjuring  them  by  their  families,  their 
friends,  and  their  paternal  gods,  to  exert  what- 
ever skill  or  courage  they  collectively,  or  as  in- 
dividuals, possessed,  on  this  ever  memorable 
and  most  important  occasion.  He  then  returned 
to  the  camp  with  an  enfeebled  body  and  an  anx- 
ious mind,  committing  the  last  hope  of  the  re 
public  to  the  active  valour  of  Demosthenes, 
Eudemus,  and  Menander.  The  first  impres- 
sion of  the  Athenians  was  irresistible  ; they 
burst  through  the  passage  of  the  bar,  and  repel- 
led the  squadrons  on  either  side.  As  the  en- 
trance widened,  the  Syracusans,  in  their  turn, 
rushed  into  the  harbour,  which  was  more  fa- 
vourable than  the  open  sea  to  their  mode  of  fight- 
ing. Thither  the  foremost  of  the  Athenians  re- 
turned, either  compelled  by  superior  force,  or 
that  they  might  assist  their  companions.  The 
engagement  became  general  in  the  mouth  of  the 
harbour  ; and  in  this  narrow  space  two  hundred 
gallies  fought,  during  the  greatest  part  of  the 
day,  with  an  obstinate  and  persevering  valour. 
It  would  require  the  expressive  energy  of  Tfcu- 
cydides,  and  the  imitative,  though  inimitable, 
sounds  and  expressions  of  the  Grecian  tongue, 
to  describe  the  noise,  the  tumult,  and  the  ar- 
dour of  the  contending  squadrons.  The  battle 
was  not  long  confined  to  the  shock  of  adverse 
prows,  and  to  the  distant  hostility  of  darts  and 
arrows.  The  nearest  vessels  grappled,  and 
closed  with  each  other,  and  their  decks  were 
soon  converted  into  a field  of  blood.  While 
the  heavy-armed  troops  boarded  the  enemy’s 
ships,  they  left  their  own  exposed  to  a similar 
misfortune ; the  fleets  were  divided  into  mas- 
sive clusters  of  adhering  gallies  ; and  the  con- 
fusion of  their  mingled  shouts  overpowered  the 
voice  of  authority  ; the  Athenians  exhorting, 
not  to  abandon  an  element  on  which  their  re- 
public had  ever  acquired  victory  and  glory,  for 
the  dangerous  protection  of  a hostile  shore ; 
and  the  Syracusans  encouraging  each  other  not 
to  fly  from  an  enemy,  whose  weakness  or  cow- 
ardice had  long  meditated  flight.3 


1 Thucydid.  p.  535,  et  seq. 


2 Kxi  iov  xarx\nif8ivT»  Sux7t\ovv.  Thucydid.  p.  451. 

3 Thucydid.  p.  513,  ct  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


235 


XX.] 


The  singular  and  tremendous  spectacle  of  an 
engagement  more  fierce  and  obstinate  th^n  any 
that  had  ever  been  beheld  in  the  Grecian  seas, 
restrained  the  activity,  and  totally  suspended  the 
powers,  of  the  numerous  and  adverse  battalions 
which  encircled  the  coast.  The  spectators  and 
the  actors  were  equally  interested  in  the  import- 
ant scene ; but  the  former,  the  current  of  whose 
sensibility"  was  undiverted  by  any  exertion  of 
mind  or  body,  felt  more  deeply,  and  expressed 
more  forcibly,  the  various  emotions  by  which 
they  were  agitated.4  Hope,  fear,  the  shouts  of 
victory,  the  shrieks  of  despair,  the  anxious  so- 
licitude of  doubtful  success,  animated  the  coun- 
tenances, the  voice,  and  the  gesture  of  the 
Athenians,  whose  whole  reliance  centered  in 
their  fleet.  When  at  length  their  gallies  evi- 
dently gave  way  on  every  side,  the  contrast  of 
alternate,  and  the  rapid  tumult  of  successive 
passions,  subsided  in  a melancholy  calm.  This 
dreadful  pause  of  astonishment  and  terror 
was  followed  by  the  disordered  trepidation  of 
flight  and  fear : many  escaped  to  the  camp  : 
others  ran,  uncertain  whither  to  direct  their 
steps ; while  Nicias,  with  a small,  but  undis- 
mayed band,  remained  on  the  shore  to  protect 
the  landing  of  their  unfortunate  gallies.  But 
the  retreat  of  the  Athenians  could  not  probably 
have  been  effected,  had  it  not  been  favoured  by 
the  actual  circumstances  of  the  enemy,  as  well 
as  by  the  peculiar  prejudices  of  ancient  super- 
stition. In  this  well-fought  battle,  the  van- 
quished had  lost  fifty,  and  the  victors  forty  ves- 
sels. It  was  incumbent  on  the  latter  to  employ 
their  immediate  and  moststrenuous  efforts  to  re- 
cover the  dead  bodies  of  their  friends,  that  they 
might  be  honoured  with  the  sacred  and  indis- 
pensable rites  of  funeral.  The  day  was  far 
spent;  the  strength  of  the  sailors  had  been 
exhausted  by  a long  continuance  of  unremitting 
labour  ; and  both  they  and  their  companions 
on  shore  were  more  desirous  to  return  to  Syra- 
cuse to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  victory,  than  to  ir- 
ritate the  dangerous  despair  of  the  vanquished 
Athenians.5 

It  is  observed  by  the  Roman  orator,6  with  no 
less  truth  than  elegance,  that  not  only  the  navy 
of  Athens,  but  the  glory  and  the  empire  of  that 
republic, suffered  shipwreck  in  the  fatal  harbour 
of  Syracuse.  The  despondent  degeneracy  which 
immediately  followed  this  ever  memorable  en- 
gagement was  testified  in  the  neglect  of  a duty 
which  the  Athenians  had  never  neglected  be- 
fore, and  in  denying  a part  of  their  national 
character,  which  it  had  hitherto  been  their 
greatest  glory  to  maintain.  They  abandoned 
to  insult  and  indignity  the  bodies  of  the  slain ; 
and  when  it  was  proposed  to  them  by  their 
commanders  to  prepare  next  day  for  a second 
engagement,  since  their  vessels  were  still  more 
numerous  than  those  of  the  enemy,  they,  who 
had  seldom  avoided  a superior,  and  who  had 
never  declined  the  encounter  of  an  equal  force, 
declared,  that  no  motive  could  induce  them  to 
withstand  the  weaker  armament  of  Syracuse. 
Their  only  desire  was  to  escape  by  land,  under 
cover  of  the  night,  from  a foe  whom  they  had 


not  courage  to  oppose,  and  from  a place  where 
every  object  was  offensive  to  their  sight,  and 
most  painful  to  their  reflection.7 

The  behaviour  of  the  Syracusans  might  have 
proved  extremely  favourable  to  this  design. 
The  evening  after  the  battle  was  the  vigil  of 
the  feast  of  Hercules;  and  the  still  agitated 
combatants  awakened,  after  a short  and  fever- 
ish repose,  to  celebrate  the  memory  of  their 
favourite  hero,  to  whose  propitious  influence 
they  probably  ascribed  the  merit  of  the  most 
splendid  trophy  that  ever  adorned  the  fame  of 
Syracuse.  From  the  triumph  of  victory,  and 
grateful  emotions  of  religious  enthusiasm,  there 
was  an  easy  transition,  in  the  creed  and  in  the 
practice  of  the  Greeks,  to  the  extravagance  of 
licentious  joy,  and  the  excesses  of  sensual  in- 
dulgence. Sports,  processions,  music,  dancing, 
the  pleasures  of  the  table,  of  the  elegant  arts, 
and  of  unguarded  conversation,  were  incorpo- 
rated in  the  texture  of  their  religious  worship. 
But  the  coincidence  of  a festival  and  a victory 
demanded  an  accumulated  profusion  of  such 
objects  as  sooth  the  senses  and  please  the  fancy. 
Amidst  these  giddy  transports,  the  Syracusans 
lost  all  remembrance  of  an  enemy  whom  they 
despised ; even  the  soldiers  on  guard  joined  the 
dissolute  or  frivolous  amusements  of  their  com- 
panions; and,  during  the  greatest  part  of  the 
night,  Syracuse  presented  a mixed  scene  of 
secure  gayety,  of  thoughtless  jollity,  and  of  mad 
and  dangerous  disorder.6 

The  firm  and  vigilant  mind  of  Hermocrates 
alone  withstood,  but  was  unable  to  divert,  the 
general  current.  It  was  impossible  to  rouse  to 
the  fatigues  of  war  men  buried  in  wine  and 
pleasure,  and  intoxicated  with  victory ; and,  as 
he  could  not  intercept  by  force,  he  determined 
to  retard  by  stratagem,  the  intended  retreat  of 
the  Athenians,  whose  numbers  and  resentment 
would  still  render  them  formidable  to  whatever 
part  of  Sicily  they  might  remove  their  camp. 
A select  band  of  horsemen,  assuming  the  cha- 
racter of  traitors,  fearlessly  approached  the 
hostile  ramparts,  and  warned  the  Athenians  of 
the  danger  of  departing  that  night,  as  many 
ambuscades  lurked  in  the  way,  and  all  the 
most  important  passes  were  occupied  by  the 
enemy.  The  frequency  of  treason  gained  credit 
to  the  perfidious  advice ; and  the  Athenians, 
having  changed  their  first  resolution,  were  per- 
suaded by  Nicias  to  wait  two  days  longer,  that 
such  measures  might  be  taken  as  seemed  best 
adapted  to  promote  the  safety  and  celerity  of 
their  march.9 

The  camp  was  raised  on  the  third  morning 
after  the  battle.  Forty  thousand  men,  of  whom 
many  were  afflicted  with  wounds  and  disease, 
and  all  exhausted  by  fatigue,  and  dejected  by 
calamity,  exhibited  the  appearance,  not.  of  a 
flying  army,  but  of  a great  and  populous  com- 
munity, driven  from  their  ancient  habitations 
by  the  cruel  vengeance  of  a conqueror.  They 
had  miserably  fallen  from  the  lofty  expecta- 
tions with  which  they  sailed  in  triumph  to  the 
harbour  of  Syracuse.  They  had  abandoned 
their  fleet,  their  transports,  the  hopes  of  victory, 


4 Thucydid.  p.  544. 

6 Cic.  in  Ver.  v 37 


5 Id.  p.  545. 


7 Thucydid.  p.  545. 
9 Id.  p.  ^47 


8 Id.  p.  546. 


236 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


(Chap. 


and  the  glory  of  the  Athenian  name;  and  these 
collective  sufferings  were  enhanced  and  exas- 
perated by  the  painful  images  which  struck  the 
eyes  and  the  fancy  of  each  unfortunate  indi- 
vidual. The  mangled  bodies  of  their  com- 
panions and  friends,  deprived  of  the  sacred 
rites  of  funeral,  affected  them  with  a sentiment 
of  religious  horror,  on  which  the  weakness  of 
human  nature  is  happily  unable  to  dwell. 
They  removed  their  attention  from  this  dread- 
ful sight ; but  they  could  not  divert  their  com- 
passion from  a spectacle  still  more  melancholy, 
the  numerous  crowds  of  sick  and  wounded, 
who  followed  them  with  enfeebled  and  unequal 
steps,  entreating,  in  the  accent  and  attitude  of 
unutterable  anguish,  to  be  delivered  from  the 
horrors  of  famine,  or  the  rage  of  an  exasperated 
foe.  Amidst  such  affecting  scenes,  the  heart 
of  a stranger  would  have  melted  with  tender 
sympathy;  but  how  much  more  must.it  have 
afflicted  the  Athenians,  to  see  their  parents, 
brothers,  children,  and  friends,  involved  in  un- 
exampled misery ! to  hear,  without  the  possi- 
bility of  relieving,  their  lamentable  complaints ! 
and  reluctantly  to  throw  the  clinging  victims 
from  their  wearied  necks  and  arms ! Yet  the 
care  of  personal  safety  prevailed  over  every 
other  care ; for  the  soldiers,  either  destitute  of 
slaves,  or  distrusting  their  fidelity,  were  not 
only  encumbered  by  their  armour,  but  oppress- 
ed by  the  weight  of  their  provisions.1 

The  superior  rank  of  Nicias  entitled  him  to 
a pre-eminence  of  toil  and  of  wo ; and  he  de- 
serves the  regard  of  posterity  by  his  character 
and  sufferings,  and  still  more  by  the  melancholy 
firmness  of  his  conduct.  The  load  of  accumu- 
lated disasters  did  not  sink  him  into  inactive 
despondency.  He  moved  with  a rapid  pace 
around  every  part  of  the  army,  and  the  ardour 
of  his  mind  re-animating  the  langour  of  his  de- 
bilitated frame,  he  exclaimed,  with  a loud  and 
distinct  voice,  “Athenians  and  allies  ! there  is 
yet  room  for  hope.  Many  have  escaped  from 
still  greater  evils;  nor  ought  you  rashly  to  ac- 
cuse either  fortune  or  yourselves.  As  to  me, 
who,  in  bodily  strength,  excel  not  the  weakest 
among  you  (for  you  see  to  what  a miserable  con- 
dition my  disease  has  reduced  me,)  and  who,  in 
the  happiness  of  private  life,  and  the  deceitful 
gifts  of  prosperity,  had  long  been  distinguished 
above  the  most  illustrious  of  my  contempora- 
ries, I am  now  confounded  with  affliction  with 
the  meanest  and  most  worthless.  Yet  am  I 
unconscious  of  deserving  such  a fatal  reverse 
of  fortune.  My  conduct  towards  men  has  been 
irreproachable ; my  piety  towards  the  gods 
conspicuous  and  sincere.  For  this  reason  1 
am  still  animated  with  confidence;  calamities, 
unmerited  by  guilt,  are  disarmed  of  their  ter- 
rors. If  we  have  incurred  the  indignation  of 
the  gods  by  our  ambitious  designs  against 
Sicily,  our  offence,  surely,  is  sufficiently  expi- 
ated by  past  sufferings,  which  now  render  us 
the  objects  of  compassion.  Other  nations  have 
attacked  their  neighbours  with  less  provoca- 
tion, and  have  yet  escaped  with  a gentler 
punishment;  nor  will  experience  warrant  the 
belief,  that  for  the  frailties  and  errors  of  passion, 


providence  should  impose  penalties  too  heavy  to 
be  borne.  We  have  the  less  reason  to  adopt  an 
impious  prejudice,  so  dishonourable  to  the  gods, 
when  we  consider  the  means  which  their  good- 
ness has  still  left  us  to  provide  for  our  defence 
Our  numbers,  our  resolution,  and  even  our 
misfortunes,  still  render  us  formidable.  There 
is  not  an  army  in  Sicily  capable  to  intercept 
our  course ; much  less  to  expel  us  from  the  first 
friendly  territory  in  which  we  may  fix  our 
camp.  If  we  can  secure,  therefore,  our  present 
safety,  by  a prudent,  speedy,  and  courageous 
retreat,  we  may  afterwards  retrieve  our  lost- 
honour,  and  restore  the  fallen  glory  of  Athens ; 
since  the  chief  ornament  of  a state  consists  in 
brave  and  virtuous  men,  not  in  empty  ships 
and  undefended  walls.”2 

The  actions  of  Nicias  fully  corresponded  with 
his  words.  He  neglected  none  of  the  duties  of 
a great  general.  Instead  of  leading  the  army 
towards  Naxos  and  Catana,  in  which  direction 
there  was  reason  to  apprehend  many  secret 
ambushes  of  the  enemy,  he  conducted  them  by 
the  western  route  towards  Gela  and  Camerina; 
expecting,  by  this  measure,  to  find  provisions 
in  greater  plenty,  as  well  as  to  elude  the  latent 
snares  of  the  Syracusans.  That  nothing  might 
be  omitted  which  promised  the  hope  of  relief, 
messengers  w’ere  immediately  despatched  to 
the  neighbouring  cities,  which  might  possibly 
be  tempted  by  their  natural  jealousy  of  the 
growing  prosperity  of  Syracuse,  to  favour  the 
retreat  of  the  vanquished.  The  troops  were 
then  divided  into  two  squares,  as  the  most  se 
cure  and  capacious  arrangement.  Nicias  led 
the  van;  Demosthenes  conducted  the  rear;  the 
baggage,  and  unarmed  multitude,  occupied  the 
centre.  In  this  order  of  march  they  passed  the 
river  Anapus,  the  ford  of  which  was  feebly  dis- 
puted by  an  inconsiderable  guard  ; and  having 
proceeded  the  first  day  only  five  miles,  they 
encamped  in  the  evening  on  a rising  ground, 
after  being  much  harassed  during  the  latter 
part  of  their  journey  by  the  Syracusan  cavalry 
and  archers,  who  galled  them  at  a distance, 
intercepted  the  stragglers,  and  avoided,  by  a 
seasonable  retreat,  to  commit  the  security  of 
their  own  fortune  with  the  dangerous  despair 
of  the  Athenians.  Next  day,  having  marched 
only  twenty  furlongs,  they  reached  a spacious 
plain,  the  convenience  of  which  invited  them 
to  repose;  especially  as  they  needed  a supply 
of  water  and  provisions,  which  might  be  easily 
obtained  from  the  surrounding  country.3 

Before  this  time,  the  enemy  were  apprized 
of  their  line  of  march;  and,  in  order  to  inter- 
rupt it,  they  sent  a numerous  detachment  to 
fortify  the  mountain  of  Acroeum.  This  moun- 
tain, which  probably  gave  name  to  the  small 
town  situate  in  its  neighbourhood,  intersected 
the  direct  road  to  Gela  and  Camerina.  It  was 
distant  a few  miles  fjrom  the  Athenian  encamp- 
ment, and  a small  degree  of  art  might  render  it 
impregnable,  since  it  was  of  a steep  and  rapid 
ascent,  and  encompassed  on  every  side  by  the 
rocky  channel  of  a loud  and  foaming  torrent. 
In  vain  the  Athenians  attempted,  on  three 
successive  days,  to  force  the  passage.  They 


1  Thucydid.  p.  548. 


2  Thucvdid.  p.  550. 


3  Id.  p.  552,  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


237 


XX.] 

were  repelled  with  loss  in  every  new  attack, 
which  became  more  feeble  than  the  preceding. 
In  the  first  and  most  desperate,  an  accidental 
storm  of  thunder  increased  the  courage  of  the 
Syracusans  and  the  terror  of  the  Athenians. 
A similar  event  had,  in  the  first  engagement 
after  the  invasion  of  Sicily,  produced  an  oppo- 
site effect  on  the  contending  nations.  But  the 
hopes  and  the  fears  of  men  change  with  their 
fortune. 

In  the  evening  after  the  last  unsuccessful  con- 
test, the  condition  of  the  Athenians  was  pecu- 
liarly deplorable.  The  numbers  of  the  wounded 
had  been  increased  by  the  fruitless  attempts  to 
pass  the  mountain ; the  enemy  had  continually 
galled  and  insulted  them  as  they  retreated  to 
their  camp;  the  adjacent  territory  could  no 
longer  supply  them  with  the  necessaries  of  life ; 
and  they  must  be  compelled,  after  all  their 
hardships  and  fatigues,  to  make  a long  circuit 
by  the  sea-shore,  if  they  expected  to  reach,  in 
safety,  the  places  of  their  respective  destination. 
Even  this  resolution  (for  there  was  no  alterna- 
tive,) however  dreadful  to  men  in  their  com- 
fortless and  exhausted  state,  was  recommended 
by  Nicias,  who,  to  conceal  his  design  from  the 
enemy,  caused  innumerable  fires  to  be  lighted 
in  every  part  of  the  camp.4  The  troops  then 
marched  out  under  cover  of  the  night,  and  in 
the  same  order  which  they  had  hitherto  ob- 
served. But  they  had  not  proceeded  far  in 
this  nocturnal  expedition,  when  the  obscurity 
of  the  skies,  the  deceitful  tracks  of  an  unknown 
and  hostile  country,  filled  the  most  timid  or 
unfortunate  with  imaginary  terrors.  Their 
panic,  as  is  usual  in  great  bodies  of  men,  was 
speedily  communicated  to  those  around  them ; 
and  Demosthenes,  with  above  one  half  of  his 
division,  fatally  mistook  the  road,  and  quitted, 
never  more  to  rejoin,  the  rest  of  the  army. 

The  scouts  of  Gylippus  and  the  Syracusans 
immediately  brought  intelligence  of  this  import- 
ant event,  which  furnished  an  opportunity  to 
attack  the  divided  strength  of  the  Athenians. 
His  superior  knowledge  of  the  country  enabled 
Gylippus,  by  the  celerity  of  his  march,  to  in- 
tercept the  smaller  division,  and  to  surround 
them  on  every  side,  in  the  difficult  and  intri- 
cate defiles  which  led  to  the  ford  of  the  river 
Erinios.  There  he  assaulted  them  with  impu- 
nity, during  a whole  day,  with  darts,  arrows, 
and  javelins.  When  the  measure  of  their  suf- 
ferings was  complete,  he  proclaimed  towards 
the  evening,  by  the  sound  of  the  trumpet,  and 
with  the  loud  voice  of  the  herald,  freedom, 
forgiveness,  and  protection  to  all  who  should 
desert,  and  abandon  the  bad  fortune  of  their 
leaders;  an  offer  which  was  accepted  by  the 
troops  of  several  Asiatic  islands,  and  other  de- 
pendent and  tributary  countries.  At  length  he 
entered  into  treaty  with  Demosthenes  himself, 
whose  soldiers  laid  down  their  arms,  and  de- 
livered their  money  (which  filled  the  capacious 
hollow  of  four  broad  bucklers,)  on  condition 
that  they  should  not  suffer  death,  imprison- 
ment, or  famine.5  Notwithstanding  the  num- 
ber of  the  deserters  and  of  the  slain,  the  re- 
mainder still  amounted  to  six  thousand,  who 


were  sent  to  Syracuse  with  their  captive  gene- 
ral, under  a powerful  and  vigilant  escort,  while 
the  activity  of  Gylippus  followed  the  flying 
battalions  of  the  enemy,  which  had  been  con- 
ducted by  Nicias  to  the  distance  of  twenty 
miles,  towards  the  fatal  banks  of  the  river 
Assinaros. 

The  Syracusans  overtook  the  rear  before  the 
van  could  arrive  at  the  lofty  and  abrupt  margin 
of  this  rapid  stream  ; and  a herald  was  sent  to 
Nicias,  exhorting  him  to  imitate  the  example 
of  his  colleague,  and  to  surrender,  without  fur- 
ther bloodshed,  to  the  irresistible  valour  of  his 
victorious  pursuers.  Nicias  disbelieve^,  or  af- 
fected to  disbelieve,  the  report ; but  when  a 
confidential  messenger,  whom  he  was  allowed 
to  despatch  for  information,  brought  certain  in- 
telligence of  the  surrender  and  disgrace  of  De- 
mosthenes, he  also  condescended  to  propose 
terms,  in  the  name  of  the  Athenians,  engaging, 
on  the  immediate  cessation  of  hostilities,  to  re- 
imburse the  magistrates  of  Syracuse  for  the 
expense  of  the  war,  and  to  deliver  Athenian 
hostages  (a  citizen  for  a talent)  until  the  debt 
should  be  liquidated.6 

These  terms  were  rejected  by  the  Syracusans 
with  disdain;  and  Gylippus  having  occupied  the 
most  advantageous  posts  on  every  side,  attacked 
the  army  of  Nicias  with  the  same  mode  of  war- 
fare which  had,  two  days  before,  proved  sq. 
destructive  to  their  unfortunate  companions. 
During  the  whole  day  they  bore,  with  extraor- 
dinary patience,  the  hostile  assault,  still  expect- 
ing, under  cover  of  the  night,  to  escape  the  cruel 
vigilance  of  the  enemy.  But  that  hope  was 
vain  : Gylippus  perceived  their  departure;  and 
although  three  hundred  men  of  determined 
courage  gallantly  broke  through  the  guards,  and 
effected  their  escape,  the  rest  were  no  sooner 
discovered  than  they  returned  to  their  former 
station,  and  laid  down  their  arms  in  silent 
despair.  Yet  the  return  of  the  morning  brought 
back  their  cburage.  They  again  took  up  their 
arms,  and  marched  towards  the  river,  miserably 
galled  and  afflicted  by  the  hostile  archers  and 
cavalry.  Their  distress  was  most  lamentable 
and  incurable : yet  hope  did  not  totally  forsake 
them  ; for,  like  men  in  the  oppression  and  lan- 
guor of  a consuming  disease,  they  still  enter- 
tained a confused  idea,  that  their  sufferings 
would  end,  could  they  but  reach  the  opposite 
banks  of  the  neighbouring  river.7 

The  desire  of  assuaging  their  thirst  encour- 
aged this  daring  design.  They  rushed  with 
frantic  disorder  into  the  rapidity  of  the  stream ; 
the  pursuing  Syracusans,  who  had  occupied  the 
rocky  banks,  destroying  them  with  innumerable 
volleys  of  missile  weapons.  In  the  Assinaros 
they  had  a new  enemy  to  contend  with.  The 
depth  and  force  of  the  waters  triumphed  over 
their  single, and  shook  their  implicated  strength. 
Many  were  borne  down  the  stream.  At  length 
-the  weight  of  their  numbers  resisted  the  violence 
of  the  torrent ; but  a new  form  of  danger  and 
of  horror  presented  itself  to  tho  eyes  of  Nicias. 
His  soldiers  turned  their  fury  against  each 
other,  disputing,  with  the  point  of  the  sword, 
the  unwholesome  draughts  of  the  agitated  and 


4 Thucydid.  p.  552,  et  seq. 


5 Id.  p.  553. 


6 Thucydid.  p.  554. 


7 Id. 


238 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


turbid  current.  This  spectacle  melted  the  firm- 
ness of  his  manly  soul.  He  surrendered  to 
Gylippus,  and  asked  quarter  for  the  miserable 
remnant  of  his  troops,  who  had  not  perished  in 
the  Assinaros,  or  been  destroyed  b)>  the  Syra- 
cusan archers  and  cavalry.1  Before  the  com- 
mands of  the  Lacedsemonian  general  could  per- 
vade the  army,  many  of  the  soldiers  had,  ac- 
cording to  the  barbarous  practice  of  the  age, 
seized  their  prisoners  and  slaves ; so  that  the 
Athenian  captives  were  afterwards  distributed 
among  several  communities  of  Sicily,  which 
had  sent  assistance  to  Syracuse.  The  rest, 
upon  laying  down  their  arms,  were  entitled  to 
the  pity  and  protection  of  Gylippus ; who, 
after  sending  proper  detachments  to  intercept 
and  collect  the  stragglers,  returned  in  triumph 
to  the  city  with  the  inestimable  trophies  of  his 
valour  and  conduct. 

Nicias  had  little  to  expect  from  the  humanity 
of  a proud  and  victorious  Spartan  ; but  Demos- 
thenes might  naturally  flatter  himself  with  the 
hope  of  justice.  He  urged  with  energy , but 
urged  in  vain,  the  observance  of  the  capitulation 
which  had  been  ratified  with  due  forms,  on  the 
faith  of  which  he  had  surrendered  himself  and 
the  troops  entrusted  to  his  command.  The 
public  prisoners,  conducted  successively  to  Syra- 
cuse, and  exceeding  together  the  number  of 
seven  thousand,  were  treated  with  the  same  in- 
human cruelty.  They  were  universally  con- 
demned to  labour  in  the  mines  and  quarries  of 
Sicily  :2  their  whole  sustenance  was  bread 
and  water : they  suffered  alternately  the  ardours 
of  a scorching  sun,  and  the  chilling  damps  of 
autumn.  For  seventy  days  and  nights  they 
languished  in  this  dreadful  captivity,  during 
which,  the  diseases  incident  to  their  manner  of 
life  were  rendered  infectious  by  the  stench  of  the 
dead  bodies,  which  corrupted  the  purity  of  the 
surrounding  air.  At  length  an  eternal  separa- 
tion was  made  between  those  who  should  enjoy 
the  happier  lot  of  being  sold  as  slaves  into  distant 
lands,  and  those  who  should  for  ever  be  confined 
to  their  terrible  dungeons.  The  Athenians, 
with  such  Italians  and  Sicilians  as  had  unnatu- 
rally embraced  their  cause,  were  reserved  for 
the  latter  doom.  Their  generals,  Nicias  and  De- 
mosthenes, had  not  lived  to  behold  this  lffelan- 
choly  hour.  Gylippufs  would  have  spared  their 
lives,  not  from  any  motives  of  humanity  and 
esteem,  but  that  biis  joyous  return  to  Sparta 
might  have  been  graced  by  their  presence.  But 
the  resentment  of  the  Syracusans,  the  fears  of 
the  Corinthians  ; above  all,  the  suspicious  jea- 
lousy of  those  perfidious  traitors  who  had  main- 
tained a secret  correspondence  with  Nicias, 
which  they  dreaded  lest  the  accidents  of  his 
future  life  might  discover,  loudly  demanded  the 
immediate  execution  of  the  captive  generals.3 
The  Athenians  of  those  times  justly  regretted 


[Chap. 

the  loss  of  Demosthenes,  a gallant  and  enter- 
prising commander  ; but  posterity  will  for  ever 
lament  the  fate  of  Nicias,  the  most  pious,  the 
most  virtuous,  and  the  most  unfortunate  man 
of  the  age  in  which  he  lived. 

Amidst  this  dark  and  dreadful  scene  of 
cruelty  and  revenge,  we  must  not  omit  to  men- 
tion one  singular  example  of  humanity,  which 
broke  forth  like  a meteor  in  the  gloom  of  a 
nocturnal  tempest.  The  Syracusans,  who  could 
punish  their  helpless  captives  with  such  unre- 
lenting severity,  had  often  melted  into  tears  at 
the  affecting  strains  of  Euripides,4  an  Athenian 
poet,  who  had  learned  in  the  Socratic  school  to 
adorn  the  lessons  of  philosophy  with  the  charms 
of  fancy,  and  who  was  regarded  by  the  taste  of 
his  contemporaries,  as  he  still  is  by  many  en- 
lightened judges,  as  the  most  tender  and  pa- 
thetic, the  most  philosophical  and  instructive, 
of  all  tragic  writers.  The  pleasure  which  the 
Syracusans  had  derived  from  his  inimitable 
poetry,  made  them  long  to  hear  it  rehearsed  by 
the  flexible  voices  and  harmonious  pronunciation 
of  the  Athenians,  so  unlike,  and  so  superior,  to 
the  rudeness  and  asperity  of  their  own  Doric 
dialect.  They  desired  their  captives  to  repeat 
the  plaintive  scenes  of  their  favourite  bard.  The 
captives  obeyed ; and  affecting  to  represent  the 
woes  of  ancient  kings  and  heroes,  they  too 
faithfully  expressed  their  own.  Their  taste  and 
sensibility  endeared  them  to  the  Syracusans, 
who  released  their  bonds,  received  them  with 
kindness  into  their  families,5  and,  after  treating 
them  with  all  the  honourable  distinctions  of  an- 
cient hospitality,  restored  them  to  their  longing 
and  afflicted  country,  as  a small  but  precious 
wreck  of  the  most  formidable  armament  that 
had  ever  sailed  from  a Grecian  harbour.  At 
their  return  to  Athens,  the  •grateful  captives 
walked  in  solemn  procession  to  the  house  of 
Euripides,  whom  they  hailed  as  their  deliverer 
from  slavery  and  death.6  This  acknowledg- 
ment, infinitely  more  honourable  than  all  the 
crowns  and  splendour  that  ever  surrounded  the 
person,  and  even  than  all  the  altars  and  temples 
that  ever  adorned  the  memory  of  a poet,7  must 
have  transported  Euripides  with  the  second 
triumph  which  the  heart  of  man  can  feel.  He 
would  have  enjoyed  the  first,  if  his  countrymen 
had  owed  to  his  virtues  the  tribute  which  they 
paid  to  his  talents ; and  if,  instead  of  the  beauty 
and  elegance  of  his  verses,  they  had  been  saved 
by  his  probity,  his  courage,  or  his  patriotism ; 
qualities  which,  still  more  than  genius  and 
fancy,  constitute  the  real  excellence  and  dignity 
of  human  nature. 


4 See  above,  p.  171. 

5 jviixiv  >)  StSaTxii  •yfXfi/xxTct,  “He  is  either 
dead  or  teaching  verses an  expression  first  introduced  at 
this  time,  was  afterwards  applied  proverbially,  in  speaking 
of  travellers  in  foreign  countries,  whose  fate  was  uncertain 

6 Plutarch,  in  Njcia. 

7 See  above,  Chapter  VI. 


1 Thucydid.  p.  555. 
3 Id.  1.  vii.  ad  fin. 


2 Id.  p.  556. 


XXI.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


239 


CHASTER  XXL 

Consequences  of  the  Athenian  Misfortunes  in  Sicily — Formidable  confederacy  against  Athens — 
Peculiar  resources  of  free  Governments — Naval  Operations — Battle  of  Miletus — Intrigues  of 
Alcibiades — The  Athenian  Democracy  subverted — Tyrannical  government  of  the  Four  Hundred 
— Battle  of  Eretria — Democracy  re-established  in  Athens — Naval  success  of  the  Athenians — 
Triumphant  return  of  Alcibiades — The  Eleusinian  Mysteries — and  Plynteria. 


TN  the  populous  and  extensive  kingdoms  of 
A modern  Europe,  the  revolutions  of  public 
afFairs  seldom  disturb  the  humble  obscurity  of 
private  life ; but  the  national  transactions  of 
Greece  involved  the  interest  of  every  family, 
and  deeply  affected  the  fortune  and  happiness 
of  every  individual.  Had  the  arms  of  the 
Athenians  proved  successful  in  Sicily,  each 
citizen  would  have  derived  from  that  event  an 
immediate  accession  of  wealth,  as  well  as  of 
power,  and  have  felt  a proportional  increase  of 
honour  and  security.  But  their  proud  hopes 
perished  for  ever  in  the  harbour  of  Syracuse. 
The  succeeding  disasters  shook  to  the  foundation 
the  fabric  of  their  empire.  In  one  rash  enter- 
prise they  lost  their  army,  their  fleet,  the  pru- 
dence of  their  experienced  generals,  and  the 
flourishing  vigour  of  their  manly  youths — Ir_ 
reparable  disasters ! which  totally  disabled  them 
to  resist  the  confederacy  of  Peloponnesus,  rein- 
forced by  the  resentment  of  a new  and  power- 
ful enemy.  While  a Lacedaemonian  army  in- 
vested their  city,  they  had  reason  to  dread  that 
a Syracusan  fleef  should  assault  the  Piraeus ; 
that  Athens  must  finally  yield  to  these  com- 
bined attacks,  and  her  once  prosperous  citizens 
destroyed  by  the  sword,  or  dragged  into  cap- 
tivity, atone  by  their  death  or  disgrace  for  the 
cruelties  which  they  had  recently  inflicted  on 
the  wretched  republics  of  Melos  and  Scione. 

The  dreadful  alternative  of  vic- 
J . tory  and  defeat,  renders  it  little  sur- 
“ prising  that  the  Athenians  should 

' ’ ’ have  rejected  intelligence,  which 

they  must  have  received  with  horror.  The 
first  messengers  of  such  sad  news  were  treated 
with  contempt : but  it  was  impossible  long8 9  to 
withhold  belief  from  the  miserable  fugitives, 
whose  squalid  and  dejected  countenances  too 
faithfully  attested  the  public  calamity.  Such 
evidence  could  not  be  refused ; the  arrogance 
of  incredulity  was  abashed,  and  the  whole  re- 
public thrown  into  consternation,  or  seized  with 
despair.  The  venerable  members  of  the  Areo- 
pagus expressed  the  majesty  of  silent  sorrow  ; 
but  the  piercing  cries  of  wo  extended  many  a 
mile  along  the  lofty  walls  which  joined  the 
Piraeus  to  the  city  ; and  the  licentious  populace 
raged  with  uqbridled  fury  against  the  diviners 


8 Thucydid.  1.  vii.  p.  557.  Cicero  goes  further.  Hie 
prim'um  opes  illius  civitntis  victoe,  comminut®,  depressreque 
sunt:  in  hoc  portu  Athenienaium  nobilitatis,  imperii,  gloria? 
naufragium  factum  existimatur.  Cicer.  in  Verrem,  v.  37. 

9 The  calamity  was  so  great  that  the  boldest  imagina- 

tion had  never  dared  to  conceive  its  existence.  Their 
minds  being  thus  unprepared,  the  Athenians,  says  Thucy- 
dides, disbelieved  toij  7rxvv  t«»  trrgxTiuiTwv  xu T5u 

tow  tgy ov  Six7rfOivyo<ri-  even  those  soldiers  who  escaped 
from  this  melancholy  business.  The  stories  of  Plutarch  in 

Nicia,  of  Athenaeus,  &c.  may  be  safely  condemned  as  fic- 

tions, since  they  are  inconsistent  with  Thucydides’s  naira 
tive. 


and  orators,  whose  blind  predictions,  and  am- 
bitious harangues,  had  promoted  an  expedition 
eternally  fatal  to  their  country.10 

The  distress  of  the  Athenians  was  too  great 
to  admit  the  comfort  of  sympathy;  but  had 
they  been  capable  of  receiving,  they  had  little 
reason  to  expect,  that  melancholy  consolation. 
The  tidings  so  afflicting  to  them  gave  unspeak- 
able joy  to  their  neighbours;  many  feared,  most 
hated,  and  all  envied,  a people  who  had  long 
usurped  the  dominion  of  Greece.  The  Athe- 
nian allies,  or  rather  subjects,  scattered  over  so 
many  coasts  and  islands,  prepared  to  assert 
their  independence ; the  confederates  of  Sparta, 
among  whom  the  Syracusans  justly  assumed 
the  first  rank,  were  unsatisfied  with  victory, 
and  longed  for  revenge : even  those  communi- 
ties, which  had  hitherto  declined  the  danger 
of  a doubtful  contest,  meanly  solicited  to  be- 
come parties  in  a war,  which  they  expected 
must  finally  terminate  in  the  destruction  of 
Athens.11 

Should  all  the  efforts  of  such  a powerful 
confederacy  still  prove  insufficient  to  accom- 
plish the  ruin  of  the  devoted  city,  there  was  yet 
another  enemy  behind,  from  whose  strength 
and  animosity  the  Athenians  had  every  thing 
to  fear.  The  long  and  peaceful  reign  of  Ar- 
taxerxes  king  of  Persia,  expired  four  hundred 
and  twenty-five  years  before  the  Christian  era. 
The  two  following  years  were  remarkable  for  a 
rapid  succession  of  kings,  Xerxes,  Sogdianus, 
Ochus;  the  last  of  whom  assumed  the  name  of 
Darius,  to  which  historians  have  added  the 
epithet  of  Nothus,  the  bastard,  to  distinguish 
this  effeminate  prince  from  his  illustrious  pre- 
decessor.12 The  first  years  of  Darius  Nothus 
were  employed  in  confirming  his  disputed  au- 
thority, and  in  watching  the  dangerous  in- 
trigues of  his  numerous  kinsmen  who  aspired 
to  the  throne.  When  every  rival  was  removed 
that  could  either  disturb  his  quiet  or  offend  his 
suspicion,  the  monarch  sunk  into  an  indolent 
security,  and  his  voluptuous  court  was  governed 
by  the  feeble  administration  of  women  and 
eunuchs.13  But  in  the  ninth  year  of  his  reign 
Darius  was  roused  from  his  lethargy  by  the 
revolt  of  Egypt  and  Lydia.  The  defection  of 
the  latter  threatened  to  tear  from  his  dominion 
the  valuable  provinces  of  Asia  Minor;  a conse- 
quence which  he  determined  to  prevent  by  em- 
ploying the  bravery  of  Pharnabazus,  and  the 
policy  of  the  crafty  Tissaphernes,  to  govern 
respectively  the  northern  and  southern  districts 
of  that  rich  and  fertile  peninsula.  The  abilities 
of  these  generals  not  only  quelled  the  rebellion 


10  Thucydid.  1.  viii.  p.  558,  ct  seq. 

11  Thucydid.  I.  viii.  p.  558,  ct  seq.  Diodor.  1.  xiii.  p.  348. 

12  Diodor.  I.  xii.  p.  322.  (Jtcsius,  Persic,  c.  xiv.  et  seq. 

13  Ctesias,  c.  xlvii.  . 


240 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


in  Lydia,  but  extended  the  arms  of  their  master 
towards  the  shores  of  the  Aegean,  as  well  as  of 
the  Hellespont  and  Propontis;  in  direct  opposi- 
tion to  the  treaty  which  forty  years  before  had 
been  ratified  between  the  Athenians,  then  in 
the  height  of  their  prosperity,  and  the  unwar- 
like Artaxerxes.  But  the  recent  misfortunes 
of  that  ambitious  people  flattered  the  Persian 
commanders  with  the  hope  of  restoring  the 
whole  Asiatic  coast  to  the  great  king,1  as  well 
as  of  inflicting  exemplary  punishment  on  the 
proud  city,  which  had  resisted  the  power,  dis- 
membered the  empire,  and  tarnished  the  glory 
of  Persia. 

The  terror  of  such  a formidable  combination 
might  have  reduced  the  Athenians  to  despair; 
and  our  surprise  that  this  consequence  should 
not  immediately  follow,  will  be  increased  by 
the  following  reflection.  Not  to  mention  the 
immortal  trophies  of  Alexander,  or  the  exten- 
sive ravages  of  Zingis  Khan,  Tamerlane,  and 
the  Tartar  princes  of  their  race ; the  Spaniards, 
the  Portuguese,  and  other  nations  of  modern 
Europe,  have,  with  a handful  of  men,  marched 
victorious  over  the  effeminate  or  barbarous 
coasts  of  the  eastern  and  western  world.  The 
hardy  discipline  of  Europe  easily  prevailed  over 
the  unwarlike  softness  of  India  and  the  savage 
ignorance  of  America.  But  the  rapid  success 
of  all  these  conquerors  was  owing  to  their  mili- 
tary knowledge2  and  experience.  By  the  su- 
periority of  their  arms  and  of  their  discipline, 
the  Romans  subdued  the  nations  of  the  earth. 
But  the  Athenians  afford  the  only  example  of  a 
people,  who,  by  the  virtues  of  the  mind  alone, 
acquired  an  extensive  dominion  over  men 
equally  improved  with  themselves  in  the  arts 
of  war  and  government.  They  possessed,  or 
were  believed  to  possess,  superior  courage  and 
capacity  to  the  nations  around  them ; and  this 
opinion,  which  should  seem  not  entirely  desti- 
tute of  foundation,  enabled  them  to  maintain, 
by  very  feeble  garrisons,  an  absolute  authority 
in  the  islands  of  the  iEgean,  as  well  as  in  the 
cities  of  the  Asiatic  coast.  Their  disasters  and 
disgrace  in  Sicily  destroyed  at  once  the  real 
and  the  ideal  supports  of  their  power;  the  loss 
of  one  third  of  their  citizens  made  it  impossible 
to  supply,  with  fresh  recruits,  the  exhausted 
strength  of  their  garrisons  in  foreign  parts ; the 
terror  of  their  fleet  was  no  more;  and  their 
multiplied  defeats,  before  the  walls  of  Syra- 
cuse, had  converted  into  contempt  that  admira- 
tion in  which  Athens  had  been  long  held  by 
Greeks  and  Barbarians. 

But  in  free  governments  there  are  many 
latent  resources  which  public  calamities  alone 
can  bring  to  light ; and  adversity,  which,  to 
individuals  endowed  with  inborn  vigour  of 
mind,  is  the  great  school  of  virtue  and  of  hero- 
ism, furnishes  also  to  the  enthusiasm  of  popular 
assemblies  the  noblest  field  for  the  display  of 
national  honour  and  magnanimity.  Had  the 
measures  of  the  Athenians  depended  on  one 
man,  or  even  on  a few,  it  is  probable  that  the 


1 Thucydid.  1.  viii.  p.  560.  et  Ctesias,  Persic,  c.  li. 

2 If  that  of  the  Tartars  should  be  doubted,  the  reader 
may  consult  Mons.  de  Guignes’s  Hist,  des  Huns,  and  Mr. 
Gibbon’s  admirable  description  of  the  manners  of  the  pas- 

toral nations,  v.  ii 


selfish  timidity  of  a prince,  and  the  cautious 
prudence  of  a council,  would  have  sunk  under 
the  wrnight  of  misfortunes,  too  heavy  for  the 
unsupported  strength  of  ordinary  minds.  But 
the  first  spark  of  generous  ardour,  which  the 
love  of  virtue,  of  glory,  and  the  republic,  or 
even  the  meaner  motives  of  ambition  and 
vanity,  excited  in  the  assembled  multitude,  was 
diffused  and  increased  by  the  natural  contagion 
of  sympathy ; the  patriotic  flame  was  commu- 
nicated to  every  breast;  and  the  social  warmth, 
reflected  from  such  a variety  of  objects,  became 
too  intense  to  be  resisted  by  the  coldness  of 
caution  and  the  damps  of  despair. 

With  one  mind  and  resolution  the  Athenians 
determined  to  brave  the  severity  of  fortune, 
and  to  withstand  the  assaults  of  the  enemy. 
Nor  did  this  noble  design  evaporate  in  useless 
speculation;  the  wisest  measures  were  adopted 
for  reducing  it  to  practice.  The  great  work 
began,  as  national  reformation  ought  always  to 
begin,  by  regulating  the  finances,  and  lopping 
off'  every  branch  of  superfluous  expense.  The 
clamour  of  turbulent  demagogues  was  silenced; 
aged  wisdom  and  experience  were  allowed 
calmly  to  direct  the  public  councils;  new  levies 
were  raised;  the  remainder  of  their  fleet  was 
equipped  for  sea;  the  motions  of  the  colonies 
and  tributary  states  were  watched  with  an 
anxious  solicitude,  and  every  proper  expedient 
was  employed  that  might  appease  their  ani- 
mosity, or  render  it  impotent.3  Yet  these 
measures,  prudent  and  vigorous  as  they  were, 
could  not,  probably,  have  suspended  the  fall  of 
Athens,  had  not  several  concurring  causes  fa- 
cilitated their  operation.  The  weak,  dilatory, 
and  ineffectual  proceedings  of  the  Spartan  con- 
federacy ; the  temporising,  equivocal,  and  capri- 
cious conduct  of  the  Persian  governors ; above 
all,  the  intrigues  and  enterprising  genius  of 
Alcibiades,  who,  after  involving  his  country  in 
inextricable  calamities,  finally  undertook  its 
defence,  and  retarded,  though  he  could  not 
prevent,  its  destiny. 

In  the  year  following  the  unfortunate  ex- 
pedition into  Sicily,  the  Spartans  prepared  a 
fleet  of  a hundred  sail,  of  which  twenty-five 
galleys  were  furnished  by  their  own  sea-ports ; 
twenty-five  by  the  Thebans;  fifteen  by  the 
Corinthians ; and  the  remainder  by  Locris, 
Phocis,  Megara,  and  the  maritime  cities  on  the 
coast  of  Peloponnesus.  This  armament  was 
Olvmn  destined  to  encourage  and  support 

xc=j|  j the  revolt  of  the  Asiatic  subjects 

A C *41°  ^ie  Athenians.  The  islands  of 
* Chios  and  Lesbos,  as  well  as  the 
city  Erythrne  on  the  continent,  solicited  the 
Spartans  to  join  them  with  their  naval  force. 
Their  request  was  enforced  by  Tissaphemes, 
who  promised  to  pay  the  sailors,  and  to  victual 
the  ships.  At  the  same  time,  an  ambassador 
from  Cyzicus,  a populous  town  situate  on  an 
island  of  the  Propontis,  entreated  the  Lacedae- 
monian armament  to  sail  to  the  safe  and  capa- 
cious harbours  which  had  long  formed  the 
wealth  and  the  ornament  of  that  city,  and  to  ex- 
pel the  Athenian  garrisons,  to  which  the  Cyzice- 
nes  and  their  neighbours  reluctantly  submitted. 


3  Thucydid.  I.  viii.  p.  539.  Diodor.  1.  xiii.  p.  349. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


241 


XXL] 

The  Persian  Pharnabazus  seconded  their  pro- 
posal ; offered  the  same  conditions  with  Tissa- 
phernes;  and  so  little  harmony  subsisted  be- 
tween the  lieutenants  of  the  great  king,  that 
each  urged  his  particular  demand  with  a total 
unconcern  about  the  important  interests  of 
their  common  master.4  The  Lacedaemonians 
held  many  consultations  among  themselves, 
and  with  their  allies;  hesitated,  deliberated, 
resolved,  and  changed  their  resolution ; and  at 
length  were  persuaded  by  Alcibiades  to  prefer 
the  overture  of  Tissaphernes  and  the  Ionians 
to  that  of  the  Hellespontines  and  Pharnabazus, 
The  delay  occasioned  by  this  deliberation 
was  the  principal,  but  not  the  only  cause  which 
hindered  the  allies  from  acting  expeditiously, 
at  a time  when  expedition  was  of  the  utmost 
importance.  A variety  of  private  views  di- 
verted them  from  the  general  aim  of  the  con- 
federacy;  and  the  season  was  far 
X.  advanced  before  the  Corinthians, 
£ who  had  been  distinguished  by  ex- 
’ ‘ ' cess  of  antipathy  to  Athens,  were 

prepared  to  sail.  They  determined,  from  pride 
perhaps,  as  well  as  superstition,  to  celebrate,5 
before  leaving  their  harbours,  the  Isthmian 
games,  consecrated  to  Neptune,  the  third  of  the 
Grecian  festivals  in  point  of  dignity  and  splen- 
dour. From  this  ceremony  the  Athenians, 
though  enemies,  were  not  excluded  by  the 
Corinthian  magistrates;  nor  did  they  exclude 
themselves,  though  oppressed  by  the  weight  of 
past  misfortunes,  and  totally  occupied  by  the 
thoughts  of  providing  against  future  evils. 
While  their  representatives  shared  the  amuse- 
ments of  this  sacred  spectacle,  they  neglected 
not  the  commission  recommended  by  their 
country.  They  secretly  informed  themselves 
of  the  plan  and  particular  circumstances  of  the 
intended  revolt,  and  learned  the  precise  time 
fixed  for  the  departure  of  the  Corinthian  fleet. 
In  consequence  of  this  important  intelligence 
the  Athenians  anticipated  the  designs  of  the 
rebels  of  Chios,  and  carried  off  seven  ships  as 
pledges  of  their  fidelity.  The  squadron  which 
returned  from  this  useful  enterprize,  intercepted 
the  Corinthians  as  they  sailed  through  the 
Saronic  gulf;  and  having  attacked  and  con- 
quered tfiem,  pursued  and  blocked  them  up  in 
their  harbours.6 

Mean  while  the  Spartans  and  their  allies 
sent  to  the  Ionian  coast  such  squadrons  as 
were  successively  ready  for  sea,  under  the  con- 
duct of  Alcibiades,  Chalcydeus,  and  Astyochus. 
The  first  of  these  commanders  sailed  to  the  isle 
of  Chios,  which  was  distracted  by  contending 
factions.  The  Athenian  partisans  were  sur- 
prised and  compelled  to  submit;  and  the  city, 
which  possessed  forty  galleys,  and  yielded  in 
wealth  and  populousness  to  none  of  the  neigh- 
bouring colonies,  became  an  accession  to  the 
Peloponnesian  confederacy.  The  strong  and 
rich  town  of  Miletus  followed  the  example: 


4 Id.  p.  561,  et  562 

5 “IT^iv  t*  Irb/xix  Ji£9f>Tse<r'.;'ri.”  The  scholiast  justly 
observes,  the  force  of  the  “Six,"  “ thoroughly,  completely,” 
*.  e.  until  they  had  celebrated  the  games,  the  complete  num- 
ber of  days,  appointed  by  antiquity.  Vid.  /E.  Port  ud  loc. 

p.  563. 

6 Thucydid.  p.  564 

2 H 


Eurythrae  and  Clazomene  surrendered  to  Clial- 
cideus;  several  places  of  less  note  were  con 
quered  by  Astyochus. 

qi  When  the  Athenians  received 

xcn  2 the  unwelcome  intelligence  of  these 
A C 412  events’  they  voted  the  expenditure 
of  a thousand  talents,  which  in 
more  prosperous  times,  they  had  deposited  in 
the  citadel,  under  the  sanction  of  a decree  of 
the  senate  and  people,  to  reserve  it  for  an  occa- 
sion of  the  utmost  danger.  This  seasonable 
supply  enabled  them  to  increase  the  fleet,  which 
sailed  under  Phrynichus  and  other  leaders,  to 
the  isle*  of  Lesbos.  Having  secured  the  fidelity 
of  the  Lesbians,  who  were  ripe  for  rebellion, 
they  endeavoured  to  recover  their  authority  in 
Miletus,  anciently  regarded  as  the  capital  of  the 
Ionic  coast.  A bloody  battle  was  fought  before 
the  walls  of  that  place,  between  the  Athenians 
and  Argives  on  one  side,  and  the  Peloponne- 
sians, assisted  by  the  troops  of  Tissaphernes 
and  the  revolted  Milesians,  on  the  other.  The 
Athenian  bravery  defeated  on  this  occasion,  the 
superior  numbers  of  Greeks  and  Barbarians 
to  whom  they  were  opposed ; but  their  Argive 
auxiliaries  were  repulsed  by  the  gallant  citizens 
of  Miletus : so  that  in  both  parts  of  the  en- 
gagement, the  Ionic  race,  commonly  reckoned 
the  less  warlike,  prevailed  over  their  Dorian 
rivals  and  enemies.  Elevated  with  the  joy  of 
victory,  the  Athenians  prepared  to  assault  the 
town,  when  they  were  alarmed  by  the  approach 
of  a fleet  of  fifty-five  sail  which  advanced  in 
two  divisions,  the  one  commanded  by  the  cele- 
brated Hermocrates,  the  other  by  Theramenes 
the  Spartan.  Phrynichus  prudently  considered, 
that  his  own  strength  only  amounted  to  forty- 
eight  galleys,  and  refused  to  commit  the  last 
hope  of  the  republic  to  the  danger  of  an  unequal 
combat.  His  firmness  despised  the  clamours 
of  the  Athenian  sailors,  who  insulted,7  under 
the  name  of  cowardice,  the  caution  of  their  ad- 
miral ; and  lie  calmly  retired  with  his  whole 
force  to  the  isle  of  Samos,  where  the  popular 
faction  having  lately  treated  the  nobles  with 
shocking  injustice  and  cruelty,  too  frequent  in 
Grecian  democracies,  were  ready  to  receive 
with  open  arms  the  patrons  of  that  fierce  and 
licentious  form  of  government. 

The  retreat  of  the  Athenian  fleet  acknow- 
ledged the  naval  superiority  of  the  enemy ; a su- 
periority which  was  alone  sufficient  either  to 
acquire  or  to  maintain  the  submission  of  the 
neighbouring  coasts  and  islands.  In  other  re- 
spects too,  the  Peloponnesians  enjoyed  the  most 
decisive  advantages.  Their  galleys  were  vic- 
tualled, their  soldiers  were  paid  by  Tissaphernes, 
and  they  daily  expected  a reinforcement  of  a 
hundred  and  fifty  Phoenician  ships,  which,  it 
was  said,  had  already  reached  Aspendus,  a sea- 
port of  Pamphylia.  But,  in  this  dangerous 
crisis,  fortune  seemed  to  respect  the  declining 
age  of  Athens,  and,  by  a train  of  accidents, 
singular  and  almost  incredible,  enabled  Alci- 


7 Like  Fabius, 

“ Non  poncbat  enim  rumores  ante  snlutem.” 

Ennius  apud  Cic. 

which  Thucydides  expresses  with  more  vigour,  “ovSe  *ro t» 
tji  v oieiSei  t ij-»;  xKsyui  Jcsxm/Slvsuo-s iv"  p.  574. 


249 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


biades,  so  long  the  misfortune  and  the  scourge, 
to  become  the  defence  and  the  saviour  of  his 
country. 

During  his  long  residence  in  Sparta,  Alci- 
biades  assumed  the  outward  gravity  of  deport- 
ment, and  conformed  himself  to  the  spare  diet, 
and  laborious  exercises,  which  prevailed  in  that 
austere  republic ; but  his  character  and  his 
principles  remained  as  licentious  as  ever^  His 
intrigue  with  Timea,  the  spouse  of  king  Agis, 
was  discovered  by  an  excess  of  female  levity. 
The  queen,  vain  of  the  attachment  of  so  cele- 
brated a character,  familiarly  gave  the  name  of 
Alcibiades  to  her  son  Leotychides  ; a name 
which,  first  confined  to  the  privacy  of  her  female 
companions,  was  soon  spread  abroad  in  the 
world.  Alcibiades  punished  her  folly  by  a most 
mortifying  but  well-merited  declaration,  boast- 
ing that  he  had  solicited  her  favours  from  no 
other  motive  but  that  he  might  indulge  the  am- 
bitious desire  of  giving  a king  to  Sparta.  The 
offence  itself,  and  the  shameless  avowal,  still 
more  provoking  than  the  offence,  excited  the 
keenest  resentment  in  .the  breast  of  the  in- 
jured husband.1  The  magistrates  and  generals 
of  Sparta,  jealous  of  the  fame,  and  envious  of 
the  merit  of  a stranger,  readily  sympathized 
with  the  misfortune,  and  encouraged  the  re- 
venge of  Agis  ; and,  as  the  horrid  practice  of 
assassination  still  disgraced  the  manners  of 
Greece,  orders  were  sent  to  Astyochus,  who 
commanded  in  chief  the  Peloponnesian  forces 
in  Asia,  secretly  to  destroy  Alcibiades,  whose 
power  defied  those  laws  wrhich  in  every  Gre- 
cian republic  condemned  adulterers  to  death.2 
But  the  active  and  subtile  Athenian  had  secured 
too  faithful  domestic  intelligence  in  the  principal 
families  of  Sparta  to  become  the  victim  of  this 
execrable  design.  With  his  usual  address  he 
eluded  all  the  snares  of  Astyochus  : his  safety, 
however,  required  perpetual  vigilance  and  cau- 
tion, and  he  determined  to  escape  from  a situa- 
tion, which  subjected  him  to  such  irksome  con- 
straint. 

Publicly  banished  from  Athens,  secretly  per- 
secuted by  Sparta,  he  had  recourse  to  the  friend- 
ship of  Tissaphemes,  who  admired  his  accom- 
plishments, and  respected  his  abilities,  which, 
though  far  superior  in  degree,  were  similar  in 
kind  to  his  own.  Tissaphernes  was  of  a temper 
the  more  readily  to  serve  a friend,  in  proportion 
as  he  less  needed  his  services.  Alcibiades,  there- 
fore, carefully  concealed  from  him  the  dangerous 
resentment  of  the  Spartans.  In  the  selfish 
breast  of  the  Persian  no  attachment  could  be 
durable  unless  founded  on  interest ; and  Alci- 
biades, who  had  deeply  studied  his  character, 
began  to  flatter  his  avarice,  that  he  might  ensure 
his  protection.  He  informed  him,  that  by  al- 
lowing the  Peloponnesian  sailors  a drachma, 
or  sevenpence  sterling,  of  daily  pay,  he  treated 
them  with  a useless  and  even  dangerous  libe- 
rality : that  the  pa^  given  by  the  Athenians, 
even  in  the  most  flourishing  times,  amounted 
only  to  three  oboli;  which  proceeded,  not  from 
a disinclination  to  reward  the  skill  and  valour 
of  their  seamen,  but  from  an  experience,  that  if 


[Chap. 

they  received  more  than  half  a drachma  each 
day,  the  superfluity  would  be  squandered  in 
such  profligate  pleasures  as  enfeebled  and  cor- 
rupted their  minds  and  bodies,  and  rendered 
them  equally  incapable  of  activity  and  of  disci- 
pline. Should  the  sailors  prove  dissatisfied  with 
this  equitable  reduction,  the  Grecian  character 
afforded  an  easy  expedient  for  silencing  their  li- 
centious clamours.  It  would  be  sufficient  to 
bribe  the  naval  commanders  and  a few  merce- 
nary orators,  and  the  careless  and  improvident 
seamen  would  submit,  without  suspicion,  the 
rate  of  their  pay,  as  well  as  every  other  concern, 
to  the  influence  and  authority  of  those  who 
were  accustomed  to  govern  them.3 

Tissaphernes  heard  this  advice  with  the  at- 
tention of  an  avaricious  man  to  every  proposal 
for  saving  his  money ; and  so  true  a judgment 
had  Alcibiades  formed  of  the  Greeks,  that  Her- 
mocrates  the  Syracusan  was  the  only  officer 
who  disdained,  meanly  and  perfidiously,  to  be- 
tray the  interest  of  the  men  under  his  com- 
mand : yet  through  the  influence  of  his  col- 
leagues, the  plan  of  economy  was  universally 
adopted,  and  on  a future  occasion,  Tissapher- 
nes boasted  that  Hermocrates,  though  more 
coy,  was  not  less  corruptible  than  others,  and 
that  the  only  reason  for  which  he  undertook 
the  patronage  of  the  sailors,  was  to  compel  his 
own  reluctance  to  comply  with  the  exorbitance 
of  his  demands.  This  reproach  illustrates  the 
opinion  entertained  by  foreign  nations  of  Gre- 
cian virtue ; but  it  is  probably  an  aspersion  on 
the  fame  of  the  illustrious  Syracusan. 

The  intrigues  of  Alcibiades  had  sown  jea- 
lousy and  distrust  in  the  Peloponnesian  fleet : 
they  had  alienated  the  minds  of  the  troops  both 
from  Tissaphernes  and  their  commanders : the 
Persian  was  ready  to  forsake  those  whom  he 
had  learned  to  despise ; and  Alcibiades  profited 
of  this  disposition  to  insinuate  that  the  alliance 
of  the  Lacedaemonians  was  equally  expensive 
and  inconvenient  for  the  great  king  and  his 
lieutenants.  “ That  these  haughty  republicans 
were  accustomed  to  take  arms  to  defend  the 
liberties  of  Greece,  a design  totally  inconsistent 
with  the  views  of  the  Persian  court.  If  the  Asiatic 
Greeks  and  islanders  aspired  at  independence, 
and  hoped  to  deliver  themselves  from  Athenian 
governors  and  garrisons,  without  submitting  to 
pay  tribute  to  Persia,  they  ought  to  carry  on 
the  war  at  their  own  expense,  since  they  would 
alone  reap  the  benefit  of  its  success.  But  if 
Tissaphernes  purposed  to  recover  the  ancient 
possessions  of  his  master,  he  must  beware  of 
giving  a decided  superiority  to  either  party,  es- 
pecially to  the  warlike  Spartans.  By  an  atten- 
tion to  preserve  the  balance  even,  between  the 
hostile  republics,  he  would  force  them  to  ex- 
haust each  other.  Amidst  their  domestic  con- 
tests an  opportunity  would  soon  arrive,  wffien 
Darius,  without  danger  or  expense,  might  crush 
both,  and  vindicate  his  just  hereditary  claim  to 
the  dominion  of  all  Asia.” 

These  artful  representations  produced  almost 
an  open  breach  between  Tissaphemes  and  his 
confederates.  The  advantage  which  Athens 
would  derive  from  this  rupture  might  have 


1 Plutarch,  ii.  49.  in  Alcibiad. 

□ Lysias  in  defence  of  Euphilotu^  &c.  p.  419. 


3 Thucydid.  p.  584,  tt.  scq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


243 


XXL] 

paved  the  way  for  Alcibiades  to  return  to  his 
country : but  he  dreaded  to  encounter  that 
popular  fury,  whose  effects  he  had  fatally  ex- 
perienced, and  whose  mad  resentment  no  de- 
gree of  merit  could  appease ; he  therefore  ap- 
plied secretly  to  Pisander,  Theramenes,  and 
other  persons  of  distinction  in  the  Athenian 
camp.  To  them  he  deplored  the  desperate  state 
of  public  affairs,  expatiated  on  his  own  credit 
with  Tissaphemes,  and  insinuated  that  it  might 
be  yet  possible  to  prevent  the  Phosnician  fleet 
at  Aspendus  from  sailing  to  assist  the  enemy. 
Assuming  gradually  more  boldness,  as  he  per- 
ceived the  success  of  his  intrigues,  he  finally 
declared  that  the  Athenians  might  obtain  not 
merely  the  neutrality,  but  perhaps  the  assistance 
of  Artaxerxes,  should  they  consent  to  abolish 
their  turbulent  democracy,  so  odious  to  the  Per- 
sians, and  entrust  the  administration  of  govern- 
ment to  men  worthy  to  negotiate  with  so  mighty 
a monarch. 

When  the  illustrious  exile  proposed  this  mea- 
sure, it  is  uncertain  whether  he  was  acquainted 
with  the  secret  cabals  which  had  been  already 
formed,  both  in  the  city  and  in  the  camp,  for 
executing  the  design  which  he  suggested.  The 
misfortunes,  occasioned  by  the  giddy  insolence 
of  the  multitude,  had  thrown  the  principal  au- 
thority into  the  hands  of  the  noble  and  wealthy, 
who,  cort-upted  by  the  sweets  of  temporary 
power,  were  desirous  of  rendering  it  perpetual. 
Many  prompted  by  ambition,  several  moved  by 
inconstancy,  a few  directed  by  a just  sense  of 
the  incurable  defects  of  democracy,  were  pre- 
pared to  encounter  every  danger,  that  they 
might  overturn  the  established  constitution.  In 
the  third  and  most  honourable  class  was  An- 
tiphon, a man  of  an  exalted  character,  and  en- 
dowed with  extraordinary  talents.  The  irre- 
sistible energy  of  his  eloquence  was  suspected 
by  the  people.  He  appeared  not  in  the  courts 
of  justice,  nor  in  the  assembly ; but  his  artful 
and  elaborate  compositions  often  saved  the  lives 
of  his  friends.  He  was  the  invisible  agent  who 
governed  all  the  motions  of  the  conspiracy ; and 
when  compelled,  after  the  ruin  of  his  party,  to 
stand  trial  for  his  life,  he  discovered  an  activity 
and  force  of  mind  that  astonished  the  most 
discerning  of  his  contemporaries.4  Pisander, 
Theramenes,  and  the  other  leaders  of  the 
aristocratical  party,  warmly  approved  the  views 
of  Alcibiades.  The  Athenian  soldiers  likewise, 
though  they  detested  the  impiety,  admired  the 
valour,  of  the  illustrious  exile,  and  longed  to  see 
him  restored  to  the  service  of  his  country. 
All  ranks  lamented  the  dangerous  situation  of 
Athens ; many  thought  that  their  affairs  must 
become  desperate,  should  Tissaphemes  com- 
mand the  Phoenician  fleet  to  co-operate  with 


4 Tbucydid.  I.  viii.  p.  COO.  A few  lines  above,  Thucy- 
dides describes  the  character  of  Antiphon  with  expressive 
energy:  A.9v\vxi-ov  ru>v  kx9*  ehutov  xc^t tj  re  ovS’evog 

vrrffOf,  xxt  xforrirTO^  ev9u/xti9>tvxt  ysvOfievOf,xxt  x yvoiq, 
eiTTiiv.  “ An  Athenian,  in  virtue  second  to  no  man  then 
living,  endowed  with  the  greatest  vigour  of  thought,  and 
the  greatest  power  of  expression.”  Plutnrch  in  the  very  in- 
accurate and  imperfect  work,  entitled,  The  Lives  of  the 
Ten  Orators,  tells  us,  that  Antiphon  was  the  first  who  wrote 
institutions  of  oratory;  and  that  his  pleadings  were  the 
most  ancient  that  had  come  down  to  posterity.  The  cha- 
racter given  by  Plutarch  of  the  writings  of  Antiphon 
agrees  with  the  high  commendation  of  Thucydides. 


that  of  Peloponnesus ; and  many  rejoiced  in  the 
prospect  of  a Persian  alliance,  in  consequence 
of  which  they  would  enter  at  once  into  the  pay 
of  that  wealthy  satrap.5 

One  man,  the  personal  enemy  of  Alcibiades 
alone  opposed  the  general  current.  But  this 
man  was  Phrynichus,  whose  prudent  firmness 
as  a commander  we  have  already  had  occasion 
to  remark.  The  courage  with  which  he  invited 
dangers  many  have  equalled,  but  none  ever 
surpassed  the  boldness  with  which  he  extricated 
himself  from  difficulties.  When  he  perceived 
that  his  colleagues  were  deaf  to  every  objection 
against  recalling  the  friend  of  Tissaphemes,  he 
secretly  informed  the  Spartan  admiral  Asty- 
ochus,  of  the  intrigues  which  were  carrying  on 
to  the  disadvantage  of  his  country.  Daring  as 
this  treachery  was,  Phrynichus  addressed  a 
traitor  not  less  perfidious  than  himself.  Asty- 
ochus  was  become  the  pensioner  and  creature 
of  Tissaphemes,  to  whom  he  communicated  the 
intelligence.  The  Persian  again  communicated 
it  to  his  favourite  Alcibiades,  who  complained 
in  strong  terms  to  the  Athenians  of  the  baseness 
and  villany  of  Phrynichus.  The  latter  excul- 
pated himself  with  consummate  address;  but  as 
the  return  of  Alcibiades  might  prove  fatal  to  his 
safety,  he  ventured,  a second  time,  to  write  to 
Astyochus,  gently  reproaching  him  with  his 
breach  of  confidence,  and  explaining  by  what 
means  he  might  surprise  the  whole  Athenian 
fleet  at  Samos ; an  exploit  that  must  for  ever 
establish  his  fame  and  fortune.  Astyochus 
again  betrayed  the  secret  to  Tissaphemes  and 
Alcibiades ; but  before  their  letters  could  be 
conveyed  to  the  Athenian  camp,  Phrynichus, 
who,  by  some  unknown  channel,  was  informed 
of  this  second  treachery,  anticipated  the  dan- 
gerous discovery,  by  apprising  the  Athenians 
of  the  enemy’s  design  to  surprise  their  fleet. 
They  had  scarcely  employed  the  proper  means 
to  counteract  that  purpose  when  messengers 
came  from  Alcibiades  to  announce  the  horrid 
perfidy  of  a wretch  who  had  basely  sacrificed 
to  private  resentment  the  last  hope  of  his  coun- 
try. But  the  messengers  arrived  too  late  ; the 
prior  information  of  Phrynichus,  as  well  as  the 
bold  and  singular  wickedness  of  his  design, 
which  no  common  degree  of  evidence  was 
thought  sufficient  to  prove,  were  sustained  as 
arguments  for  his  exculpation;  and  it  was  be- 
lieved that  Alcibiades  had  made  use  of  a stra- 
tagem most  infamous  in  itself,  but  not  unexam- 
pled among  the  Greeks,  for  destroying  a man 
whom  he  detested.6 

The  opposition  of  Phrynichus,  though  it  re- 
tarded the  designs  of  Alcibiades,  prevented  not 
the  measures  of  Pisander  and  his  associates  for 
abolishing  the  democracy.  The  soldiers  a t 
Samos  were  induced,  by  the  reasons  above 
mentioned,  to  acquiesce  in  the  resolution  of 
their  generals.  But  a more  difficult  task  re- 
mained ; to  deprive  the  people  of  Athens  of 
their  liberty,  which,  since  the  expulsion  of  the 


5 What  influence  this  consideration  must  have  had,  may 
he  conjectured  from  the  information  of  Andocides,  Oraf.  iii. 
who  says,  that  in  the  course  of  this  war  the  Spartans  re- 
ceived, from  their  Persian  allies,  subsidies  to  tho  amount 
of  five  thousand  talents,  about  a million  sterling.  The  sum 
is  prodigious,  considerii  g the  value  of  money  in  that  age. 

6 Thucydid.  p.  58’/  * 590. 


244 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


family  of  Pisistratus,  they  had  enjoyed  a hun- 
dred years.  Pisander  headed  the  deputation 
which  was  sent  from  the  camp  to  the  city  to 
effect  this  important  revolution.  He  acquainted 
the  extraordinary  assembly,  summoned  on  that 
occasion  in  the  theatre  of  Bacchus,  of  the  mea- 
sures which  had  been  adopted  by  their  soldiers 
and  fellow  citizens  at  Samos.  The  compact 
band1  of  conspirators  warmly  approved  the 
example;  but  loud  murmurs  of  discontent  re- 
sounded in  different  quarters  of  that  spacious 
theatre.  Pisander  asked  the  reason  of  this  dis- 
approbation. “ Had  his  opponents  any  thing 
better  to  propose?  If  they  had,  let  them  come 
forward  and  explain  the  grounds  of  their  dis- 
sent : but,  above  all,  let  them  explain  how  they 
could  save  themselves,  their  families,  and  their 
country,  unless  they  complied  with  the  demand 
of  Tissaphernes.  The  imperious  voice  of  ne- 
cessity was  superior  to  law ; and  when  the  ac- 
tual danger  had  ceased,  they  might  re-establish 
their  ancient  constitution.”  The  opponents  of 
Pisander  were  unable  or  afraid  to  reply : and 
the  assembly  passed  a decree,  investing  ten 
ambassadors  with  full  powers  to  treat  with  the 
Persian  satrap. 

™ Soon  after  the  arrival  of  the  Pe- 

Olymp. 

xcii.  1. 


loponnesian  fleet  on  the  coast  of 


A.  C.  412. 


Asia,  the  Spartan  commanders  had 


concluded,  in  the  name  of  their  re- 
public, a treaty  with  Tissaphernes ; in  which  it 
was  stipulated,  that  the  subsidies  should  be 
regularly  paid  by  the  king  of  Persia,  and  that 
the  Peloponnesian  forces  should  employ  their 
utmost  endeavours  to  recover,  for  that  monarch, 
the  dominions  of  his  ancestors,  which  had  been 
long  unjustly  usurped,  and  cruelly  insulted,  by 
the  Athenians.  This  treaty  seemed  so  honour- 
able to  the  great  king,  that  his  lieutenant  could 
not  venture  openly  to  infringe  it.  It  is  possible, 
that  in  the  interval  between  his  intrigues  with 
Alcibiades,  and  the  arrival  of  the  Athenian  am- 
bassadors at  Magnesia,  the  place  of  his  usual 
residence,  Tissaphernes  might  receive  fresh 
instructions  from  his  court  to  make  good  his 
agreement  with  the  Spartans.  Perhaps  the 
crafty  satrap  never  entertained  any  serious 
thoughts  of  an  alliance  with  the  Athenians, 
although  he  sufficiently  relished  the  advice 
given  him  by  Alcibiades  to  weaken  both  parties. 
But  whatever  motive  determined  him,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  he  showed  a disinclination  to  enter 
into  any  negotiation  with  the  Athenian  ambas- 
sadors. Alarmed  at  the  decay  of  his  influence 
with  the  Persians,  on  which  he  had  built  the 
flattering  hopes  of  returning  to  his  country, 
Alcibiades  employed  all  the  resources  of  his 
genius  to  conceal  his  disgrace.  By  solicita- 
tions, entreaties,  and  the  meanest  compliances, 
he  obtained  an  audience  for  his  fellow  citizens. 
As  the  agent  of  Tissaphernes,  he  then  proposed 
the  conditions  on  which  they  might  obtain  the 
friendship  of  the  great  king.  Several  demands 
were  made,  demands  most  disgraceful  to  the 


1  Or  rather  bands,  according  to  Thucydides.  Pisander 
was  at  pains  to  gain  over  to  his  views  tx;  fcvvta/xoirtxs, 
utTrif  ervyxccvov  7rgortgov  tv  tjj  vroKst  ovtrxi  tm  Sixx ig 
kki  <*£%*»;■  “The  factions  or  juntos  already  formed  in 
Athens,  with  a view  to  thrust  themselves  into  the  seats  of 
judicature  and  the  great  offices  of  state.”  Thucydid.p.  592. 


[Cha/ 

name  of  Athens : to  all  of  which  the  ambassn 
dors  submitted.  They  even  agreed  to  surrender 
the  whole  coast  of  Ionia  to  its  ancient  sovereign- 
But  when  the  artful  Athenian  (fearful  lest 
they  should,  on  any  terms,  admit  the  treaty 
which  Tissaphernes  was  resolved  on  no  terms 
to  grant)  demanded  that  the  Persian  fleets 
should  be  allowed  to  sail,  undisturbed,  in  the 
Grecian  seas,  the  ambassadors,  well  knowing 
that  should  this  condition  be  complied  with,  no 
treaty  could  hinder  Greece  from  becoming  a 
province  of  Persia,  expressed  their  indignation 
in  very  unguarded  language,  and  left  the  assem- 
bly in  disgust.  This  imprudence  enabled  Alci- 
biades to  affirm,  with  some  appearance  of  truth, 
that  their  own  anger  and  obstinacy,  not  the 
reluctance  of  Tissaphernes,  had  obstructed  the 
negotiation,  which  was  precisely  the  issue  of 
the  affair  most  favourable  to  his  views.2 
Ql  His  artifices  succeeded,  but  wrere 

xcii  2 n°t  a^en<^et^  W1th  the  consequences 
A C *411  exPecte<i  from  them.  The  Athe- 
nians, both  in  the  camp  and  city, 
perceived,  by  this  transaction,  that  his  credit 
with  the  Persians  was  less  than  he  represented 
it;  and  the  aristocratical  faction  were  glad  to 
get  rid  of  a man,  whose  restless  ambition  ren- 
dered him  a dangerous  associate.  They  per- 
sisted, however,  with  great  activity,  in  executing 
their  purpose;  of  which  Phrynichus,  who  had 
opposed  them  only  from  hatred  of  Alcibiades, 
became  an  active  abettor.  When  persuasion 
was  ineffectual,  they  had  recourse  to  violence. 
Androcles,  Hyperbolus,3  and  other  licentious 
demagogues,  were  assassinated.  The  people 
of  Athens,  ignorant  of  the  strength  of  the  con- 
spirators, and  surprised  to  find  in  the  number 
many  whom  they  least  suspected,  were  re- 
strained by  inactive  timidity,  or  fluctuated  in 
doubtful  suspense.  The  cabal  alone  acted  with 
union  and  with  vigour;  and  difficult  as  it  seemed 
to  subvert  the  Athenian  democracy,  which  had 
subsisted  a hundred  years  with  unexampled 
glory,  yet  this  design  was  undertaken  and 
accomplished  by  the  enterprising  activity  of 
Pisander,  the  artful  eloquence  of  Theramenes, 
the  firm  intrepidity  of  Phrynichus,  and  the 
superintending  wisdom  of  Antiphon.4 

He  it  was  who  formed  the  plan,  and  regu- 
lated the  mode  of  attack,  which  was  carried  on 
by  his  associates.  In  a deliberation  concerning 
the  means  of  retrieving  the  affairs  of  the  public, 
Pisander  proposed  the  electing  of  ten  men, 
who  should  be  charged  with  the  important 
trust  of  preparing  and  digesting  resolutions,  to 
be  on  an  appointed  day  laid  before  the  assembly 
of  the  people.  When  the  day  arrived,  the  com- 
missioners had  but  one  resolution  to  propose: 
“That  every  citizen  should  be  free  to  offer  his 
opinion,  however  contrary  to  law,  without  fear 


2 Thucvdid.  1.  viii.  p.  593. 

3 Thucydides  paints  his  character  in  few  words:  ‘T trig. 
6oX.ov  ts  tivx  Adyvxiuiv,  p. o%Syigov  xv^guvrsv  aiTTfxxKrftivov 
00  Six  Svvxfituif  xai  «£ iw/ascTO?  coGov,  xKKx  Six  vrovtigixv 
xxi  xi<rxvv>-v  t»c  3-o\£a)?.  “One  Hyperbnlus,  a worthless 
fellow,  and  banished  by  the  Ostracism,  not  from  fear  of  his 
power  and  dignitv,but  on  account  of  his  extreme  profligaev, 
and  his  being  a disgrace  to  the  city.”  The  Ostracism  was 
thought  to  be  for  ever  disgraced  by  being  applied  to  suen 
an  unworthy  object,  and  thenceforth  laid  aside.  See  Plut. 
in  Nicia,  and  Aristoph.  in  Pac.  ver.  6P0. 

4 Thucydid.  ibid,  et  Lysias  advers.  Agorat. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


243 


XXI.] 

of  impeachment  or  trial;”  a matter  essential  to 
the  interests  of  the  cabal,  since  by  a strange 
contradiction  in  government,  the  Athenian  ora- 
tors and  statesmen  were  liable  to  prosecution5 
before  the  ordinary  courts  of  justice,  for  such 
speeches  and  decrees  as  had  been  approved  and 
confirmed  by  the  assembly.  In  consequence  of 
this  act  of  indemnity,  Pisander  and  his  party 
boldly  declared,  that  neither  the  spirit  nor  the 
forms  of  the  established  constitution  (which 
had  recently  subjected  them  to  such  a weight 
of  misfortunes)  suited  the  present  dangerous 
and  alarming  crisis.  That  it  was  necessary  to 
new-model  the  whole  fabric  of  government; 
for  which  purpose  five  persons  (whose  names 
he  read)  ought  to  be  appointed  by  the  people, 
to  choose  a hundred  others ; each  of  whom 
should  select  three  associates;  and  the  four 
hundred  thus  chosen,  men  of  dignity  and  opu- 
lence, who  would  serve  their  country  without 
fee  or  reward,  ought  immediately  to  be  invested 
with  the  majesty  of  the  republic.  They  alone 
should  conduct  the  administration  uncontrolled, 
and  assemble,  as  often  as  seemed  proper,  five 
thousand  citizens,  whom  they  judged  most 
worthy  of  being  consulted  in  the  management 
of  public  affairs.  This  extraordinary  proposal 
was  accepted  without  opposition : the  partisans 
of  democracy  dreaded  the  strength  of  the  cabal ; 
and  the  undiscerning  multitude,  dazzled  by  the 
imposing  name  of  five  thousand,  a number  far 
exceeding  the  ordinary  assemblies  of  Athens, 
perceived  not  that  they  surrendered  their  liber- 
ties to  the  artifice  of  an  ambitious  faction.6 

But  the  conduct  of  the  four  hundred  tyrants 
(for  historians  have  justly  adopted  the  language 
of  Athenian  resentment)  soon  opened  the  eyes 
and  understanding  of  the  most  thoughtless. 
They  abolished  every  vestige  of  ancient  free- 
dom ; employed  mercenary  troops  levied  from 
the  small  islands  of  the  iEgean,  to  overawe  the 
multitude,  and  to  intimidate,  in  some  instances 
to  destroy,  their  real  or  suspected  enemies. 
Instead  of  seizing  the  opportunity  of  annoying 
the  Peloponnesians,  enraged  at  the  treachery 
of  Tissaphernes,  and  mutinous  for  want  of  pay 
and  subsistence,  they  sent  ambassadors  to  soli- 
cit peace  from  the  Spartans  on  the  most  dis- 
honourable terms.  Their  tyranny  rendered 
them  odious  in  the  city,  and  their  cowardice 
made  them  contemptible  in  the  camp  at  Samos. 
Their  cruelty  and  injustice  were  described,  and 
exaggerated,  by  the  fugitives  who  continually 
arrived  in  that  island.  The  generous  youth, 
employed  in  the  sea  and  land  service,  were  im- 
patient of  the  indignities  offered  to  their  fellow 
citizens.  The  same  indignities  might  be  in- 
flicted on  themselves,  if  they  did  not  vindicate 
their  freedom.  These  secret  murmurs  broke 
out  into  loud  and  licentious  clamours,  which 
were  encouraged  by  the  approbation  of  the 
Samians.  Thrasybulus  and  Thrasyllus,  two 
officers  of  high  merit  and  distinction,  though 
not  actually  entrusted  with  a share  in  the  prin- 
cipal command,7  gave  activity  and  boldness  to 


5 By  the  yp*p>i  7rxpxvop'»v.  See  Chap.  xiii. 

6 Thncydid.  et  Lysias,  ubi  supra. 

7 Neither  generals  nor  adnAirals ; for  Thrasybulus  only 

commanded  a galley;  and  Thrasyllus  served  in  the  heavy- 
armed  infantry,  whether  as  an  officer,  or  in  the  ranks,  the 


the  insurgents.  The  abettors  of  the  new  go- 
vernment were  attacked  by  surprise : thirty  of 
the  most  criminal  were  put  to  death,  several 
others  were  banished,  democracy  was  re-esta- 
blished in  the  camp,  and  the  soldiers  were 
bound  by  oath  to  maintain  their  hereditary 
government  against  the  conspiracy  of  domestic 
foes,  and  to  act  with  vigour  and  unanimity 
against  the  public  enemy. 

Thrasybulus,  who  headed  this  successful  and 
meritorious  sedition,  had  a mind  to  conceive,  a 
tongue  to  persuade,  and  a hand  to  execute,  the 
most  daring  designs.  He  exhorted  the  soldiers 
not  to  despair  of  effecting  in  the  capital  the 
same  revolution  which  they  had  produced  in 
the  camp.  But  should  they  fail  in  that  design 
they  ought  no  longer  to  obey  a city  which  had 
neither  wealth  nor  wisdom,  neither  supplies  nor 
good  counsel  to  send  them.  They  were  them- 
selves more  numerous  than  the  subjects  of  the 
four  hundred,  and  better  provided  in  all  things 
necessary  for  war.  They  possessed  an  island 
which  had  formerly  contended  with  Athens  for 
the  command  of  the  sea,  and  which,  it  was 
hoped,  they  might  defend  against  every  foe, 
foreign  and  domestic.  But  were  they  compel- 
led to  forsake  it,  they  had  still  reason  to  expect 
that,  with  a hundred  ships  of  war,  and  with  so 
many  brave  men,  they  might  acquire  an  esta- 
blishment not  less  valuable  elsewhere,  in  which 
they  would  enjoy,  undisturbed,  the  invaluable 
possession  of  liberty.  Their  most  immediate 
concern  was  to  recall  Alcibiades,  who  had  been 
deceived  and  disgraced  by  the  tyrants,  and 
who  not  only  felt  with  peculiar  sensibility,  but 
could  resent  with  becoming  dignity,  the  wrongs 
of  his  country  and  his  own.  The  advice  of 
Thrasybulus  was  approved ; soon  after  he  sailed 
to  Magnesia,  and  returned  in  company  with 
Alcibiades. 

Near  four  years  had  elapsed  since  the  elo- 
quent son  of  Clinias  had  spoken  in  an  Athenian 
assembly.  Being  presented  by  Thrasybulus  to 
his  fellow  citizens,  he  began  by  accusing  his 
fortune,  and  lamenting  his  calamities.  “ Yet 
his  banishment  ought  not  to  affect  him  with 
permanent  sorrow,  since  it  had  furnished  him 
with  an  opportunity  to  serve  the  cause  of  his 
country.  This  event,  otherwise  unfortunate, 
had  procured  him  the  acquaintance  and  friend- 
ship of  Tissaphernes ; who,  moved  by  his  en- 
treaties, had  withheld  the  stipulated  pay  from 
the  Peloponnesian  forces,  and  who,  he  doubted 
not,  would  continue  his  good  offices  to  the 
Athenians,  supply  them  with  every  thing  re- 
quisite for  maintaining  the  war,  and  even  sum- 
mon the  Phoenician  fleet  to  their  assistance.” 
These  were  magnificent  but  flattering  promises. 
In  making  them,  Alcibiades  however  did  not 
consult  mercty  the  dictates  of  vanity.  They 
raised  his  credit  with  the  army,  who  immedi- 
ately saluted  him  general;8  they  widened  the 
breach  between  Tissaphernes  and  the  Spartans; 
and  they  struck  terror  (when  his  spooch  got 

expression  leaves  uncertain.  The  Scholiast,  however,  con- 
siders ofl-XiTfuov-ri  as  synonimous  with  tou  o^rXirijcoo 
Thucydid.  p.  604. 

8 Ms-ree  ru>v  TT^ars^iov — Thoy  associated  him  with  tho 
former  commanders.  But  Thucydides  immediately  adds, 
*xi  t*  vrfxyfixrx  ttxvtx  ecveriSetrxv,  and  referred  every 
thing  to  his  management,  p.  609. 


246 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


abroad)  into  the  tyrants  of  Athens,  who  had 
provoked  the  resentment  of  a man  capable  to 
subvert  their  usurpation. 

Alcibiades  left  the  care  of  the  troops  to  his 
colleagues  ihrasybulus  and  Thrasyilus,  and 
withdrew  himself  from  the  applauses  of  his  ad- 
miring countrymen,  on  pretence  of  concerting 
with  Tissaphernes  the  system  of  their  future 
operations.  But  his  principal  motive  was  to 
show  himself  to  the  Persian,  in  the  new  and 
illustrious  character  with  which  he  was  invest- 
ed ; for  having  raised  his  authority  among  the 
Athenians  by  his  influence  with  the  satrap,  he 
expected  to  strengthen  this  influence  by  the  sup- 
port of  that  authority.  Before  he  returned  to 
the  camp,  ambassadors  had  been  sent  by  the 
tyrants,  to  attempt  a negotiation  with  the  parti- 
sans of  democracy,  who,  inflamed  by  continual 
reports  of  the  indignities  and  cruelties  committed 
in  Athens,  prepared  to  sail  thither  to  protect 
their  friends  and  take  vengeance  on  their  ene- 
mies. Alcibiades  judiciously  opposed  this  rash 
resolution,  which  must  have  left  the  Hellespont, 
Ionia,  and  the  islands,  at  the  mercy  of  the  hos- 
tile fleet.  But  he  commanded  the  ambassadors 
to  deliver  to  their  masters  a short  but  pithy 
message  : “ That  they  must  divest  themselves 
of  their  illegal  power,  and  restore  the  ancient 
constitution.  If  they  delayed  obedience,  he 
would  sail  to  the  Piraeus,  and  deprive  them  of 
their  authority  and  their  lives.”1 

When  this  message  was  reported  at  Athens, 
it  added  to  the  disorder  and  confusion  in  which 
that  unhappy  city  was  involved.  The  four  hun- 
dred who  had  acted  with  unanimity  in  usurp- 
ing the  government,  soon  disagreed  about  the 
administration,  and  split  into  factions,  which 
persecuted  each  other  as  furiously  as  both  had 
persecuted  the  people.2  Theramenes  and  Aria- 
tocrates  condemned  and  opposed  the  tyrannical 
measures  of  their  colleagues.  The  perfidious 
Phrynichus  was  slain  : both  parties  prepared 
for  taking  arms;  and  the  horrors  of  a Corcyrean 
sedition  were  ready  to  be  renewed  in  Athens, 
when  the  old  men,  the  children,  the  women, 
and  strangers,  interposed  for  the  safety  of  a city 
which  had  long  been  the  ornament  of  Greece, 
the  terror  of  I*ersia,  and  the  admiration  of  the 
world.3 

Had  the  public  enemy  availed  themselves  of 
this  opportunity  to  assault  the  Piraeus,  Athens 
could  not  have  been  saved  from  immediate  de- 
struction. But  the  Peloponnesian  forces  at 
Miletus,  long  clamorous  and  discontented,  had 
broken  out  into  open  mutiny,  when  they  heard 
of  the  recall  of  Alcibiades,  and  the  hostile  in- 
tentions of  Tissaphernes.  To  the  duplicity  of 
the  satrap,  and  the  treachery  of  their  own  cap- 
tains, they  justly  ascribed  the  want  of  pay  and 
subsistence,  and  all  the  misfortunes  which  they 
felt  or  dreaded.  Their  resentment  was  violent 
and  implacable.  They  destroyed  the  Persian 
fortifications  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Miletus  ; 
they  put  the  garrisons  to  the  sword ; their 
treacherous  commander,  Astyochus,  saved  his 
life  by  flying  to  an  altar  ; nor  was  the  tumult 


1 Thucydid.  ibid,  et  Plut.  ii.  54.  in  Vit.  Alcibiad. 

2 Lysias  adv.  Afforat. 

3 Thucydid.  p.  610. 


[Chap. 

appeased  until  the  guilty  were  removed  from 
their  sight,  and  Myndarus,  an  officer  of  approv- 
ed valour  and  fidelity,  arrived  from  Sparta  to 
assume  the  principal  command.4 

The  dreadful  consequences  which  must  have 
resulted  to  the  Athenians,  if,  during  the  fury  of 
their  sedition,  the  enemy  had  attacked  them 
with  a fleet  of  a hundred  and  fifty  sail,  may  be 
conceived  by  the  terror  inspired  by  a much 
smaller  Peloponnesian  squadron  of  only  forty- 
two  vessels ; commanded  by  the  Spartan  He- 
gesandridas.  The  friends  of  the  constitution 
had  assembled  in  the  spacious  theatre  of  Bac- 
chus. Messengers  passed  between  them  and 
the  partisans  of  Antiphon  and  Pisander,  who 
had  convened  in  a distant  quarter  of  the  city 
The  most  important  matters  were  in  agitation, 
when  the  alarm  was  given  that  some  Pelopon- 
nesian ships  had  been  seen  on  the  coast.  Both 
assemblies  were  immediately  dissolved.  All 
ranks  of  men  hastened  to  the  Piraeus  ; manned 
the  vessels  in  the  harbour ; launched  others ; 
and  prepared  thirty-six  for  taking  the  sea. 
When  Hegesandridas  perceived  the  ardent  op- 
position which  he  must  encounter  in  attempting 
to  land,  he  doubled  the  promontory  of  Sunium, 
and  sailed  towards  the  fertile  island  of  Euboea, 
from  which,  since  the  fortification  of  Decelia, 
the  Athenians  had  derived  far  more  plentiful 
supplies  than  from  the  desolated  territory  of 
Attica.  To  defend  a country  which  formed 
their  principal  resource,  they  sailed  in  pursuit 
of  the  enemy,  and  observed  them  next  day  near 
the  shore  of  Eretria,  the  most  considerable  town 
in  the  island. 

The  Euboeans,  who  had  long  watched  an  op- 
portunity to  revolt,  supplied  the  Peloponnesian 
squadron  with  all  necessaries  in  abundance ; but 
instead  of  furnishing  a market  to  the  Athenians, 
they  retired  from  the  coast  on  their  approach. 
The  commanders  were  obliged  to  weaken  their 
strength,  by  detaching  several  parties  into  the 
country  to  procure  provisions ; Hegesandridas 
seized  this  opportunity  to  attack  them  : most  of 
the  ships  were  taken ; the  crews  swam  to  land ; 
many  were  cruelly  murdered  by  the  Eretrians, 
from  whom  they  expected  protection ; and  such 
only  survived  as  took  refuge  in  the  Athenian 
garrisons  scattered  over  the  island.5 
p.,  t The  news  of  this  misfortune  was 

7 P*  most  alarming  to  the  Athenians. 
A C 411  invasion  of  Xerxes,  nor 

even  the  defeat  in  Sicily,  occasioned 
such  terrible  consternation.  They  dreaded  the 
immediate  defection  of  Euboea ; they  had  no 
more  ships  to  launch ; no  means  of  resisting 
their  multiplied  enemies : the  city  was  divided 
against  the  camp,  and  divided  against  itself. 
Yet  the  magnanimous  firmness  of  Theramenes 
did  not  allow  the  friends  of  liberty  to  despair. 
He  encouraged  them  to  disburden  the  republic 
of  its  domestic  foes,  who  had  summoned,  or 
who  were  at  least  believed  to  have  summoned, 
the  assistance  of  the  Lacedaemonian  fleet,  that 
they  might  be  enabled  to  enslave  their  fellow 
citizens.  Antiphon,  Pisander,  and  others  most 
obnoxious,  seasonably  escaped ; the  rest  sub- 
mitted. A decree  was  passed,  recalling  Alci- 


4  Thucydid.  p.  611. 


5 Id.  p.  622. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


247 


XXI.] 

biades,  and  approving  the  conduct  of  the  troops 
at  Samos.  The  sedition  ceased.  The  demo- 
cracy, which  had  been  interrupted  four  months, 
was  restored  ; and  such  are  the  resources  of  a 
free  government,  that  even  this  violent  fermen- 
tation was  not  unproductive  of  benefit  to  the 
state.  The  Athenians  completed  whatever  had 
been  left  imperfect  in  former  reformations  ;9 
and  determined  to  defend,  to  the  last  extremity, 
the  ancient  glory  of  the  republic. 

Ol  m By  imprudent  or  perfidious 

xcii  2 conduct  of  their  commanders,  and 
A C 411  se(^hious  spirit  of  their  troops, 
the  Peloponnesians  lost  a seasonable 
opportunity  to  terminate  the  war  with  equal 
advantage  and  honour ; and  having  neglected 
the  prosperous  current  of  their  fortune,  they 
were  compelled  long  and  laboriously  to  strive 
against  an  unfavourable  stream.  The  doubtful 
Tissaphernes  hesitated  between  the  part  of  an 
open  enemy,  or  a treacherous  ally ; the  Spartans, 
who  had  formerly  rejected  the  friendship,  now 
courted  the  protection,  of  his  rival  Pharnabazus; 
to  whose  northern  province  they  sailed  with 
the  principal  strength  of  their  armament,  leav- 
ing only  a small  squadron  at  Miletus,  to  defend 
their  southern  acquisitions.  The  Athenians, 
animated  by  the  manly  counsels  of  Thrasybulus 
and  Thrasyllus,  the  generous  defenders  of  their 
freedom,  proceeded  northwards  in  pursuit  of 
the  enemy  ; and  the  important  straits,  which 
join  the  Euxine  and  iEgean  seas,  became, 
and  long  continued,  the  scene  of  conflict.  In 
the  twenty-first  winter  of  the  war,  a year  al- 
ready distinguished  by  the  dissolution  and  re- 
vival of  their  democracy,  the  Athenians  pre- 
vailed in  three  successive  engagements,  {he 
event  of  which  became  continually  more  de- 
cisive. In  the  first,  which  was  fought  in  the 
narrow  channel  between  Sestos  and  Abydus, 
the  advantages  were  in  some  measure  balanced, 
since  Thrasybulus  took  twenty  Peloponnesian 
ships,  with  the  loss  of  fifteen  of  his  own.  But 
the  glory  remained  entire  to  the  Athenians, 
who  repelled  the  enemy,  and  offered  to  renew 
the  battle.7  Not  long  afterwards,  they  inter- 
cepted a squadron  of  fourteen  Rhodian  vessels, 
near  Cape  Rhegium.  The  islanders  defended 
themselves  with  their  usual  bravery.  Myndarus 
beheld  the  engagement  from  the  distance  of 
eight  miles,  while  he  performed  his  morning 
devotions  to  Minerva  in  the  lofty  temple  of 
Ilium.  Alarmed  for  the  safety  of  his  friends, 
he  rushed  from  that  sacred  edifice,  and  hastened 
with  great  diligence  to  the  shore,  that  he  might 
launch  his  ships,  and  prevent,  by  speedy  as- 
sistance, the  capture  or  destruction  of  the  Rho- 
dians. s The  principal  Athenian  squadron  at- 
tacked him  near  the  shore  of  Abydus.  The 


6 The  government  was  brought  back  to'its  original  prin- 
ciples, as  established  by  Solon.  Among  other  salutary 
regulations,  it  was  enacted,  that  no  one  should  receive  a 
salary  for  any  public  magistracy.  “ And  now,”  says  Thu- 
cydides, “ for  the  first  time,  in  the  present  age  at  least,  the 
Athenians  modeled  their  government  aright;  and  this  en- 
abled Athens  again  to  raise  her  head.”  Thucydid.  p.  623. 
It  is  remarkable,  that  neither  Diodorus,  Plutarch,  nor  any 
of  the  orators,  make  the  least  mention  of  those  salutary 
regulations,  which,  however,  lasted  not  long  after  the  return 
of  Alcibiades. 

7 Thucydid.  1.  viii.  p.  626 

8 Xenoph.  llellcn.  1.  i.  c i.  Diodor.  xifi.  p.  334. 


engagement  was  foughtfrom  morning  tiff  night, 
and  still  continued  doubtful,  when  the  arrival 
of  eighteen  galleys,  commanded  by  Alcibiade* 
turned  the  scale  of  victory.  The  escape  of  thy 
Peloponnesians  was  favoured  by  the  braver, 
of  Pharnabazus,  who,  at  the  k^ad  of  his  Bar 
barian  troops,  had  been  an  impatient  spectato 
of  the  combat.  He  gallantly  rode  into  the  sea 
encouraging  his  men  with  his  voice,  his  arm 
and  his  example.  The  Spartan  admiral  drew 
up  the  greatest  part  of  his  fleet  along  the  shore 
and  prepared  to  resist  the  assailants ; but  th? 
Athenians,  satisfied  with  the  advantages  already 
obtained,  sailed  to  Sestos,  carrying  with  them 
a valuable  prize,  thirty  Peloponnesian  galleys, 
as  well  as  fifteen  of  their  own,  which  they  had 
lost  in  the  former  engagement.  Thracyllus  was 
sent  to  Athens,  that  he  might  communicate  the 
good  news,  and  raise  such  supplies  of  men  and 
money  as  could  be  expected  from  that  exhausted 
city.9 

The  Spartans  yielded  possession  of  the  sea, 
which  they  hoped  soon  to  recover,  and  retired 
to  the  friendly  harbours  of  Cyzicus,  to  repair 
their  shattered  fleet ; while  the  Athenians  pro- 
fited of  the  fame  of  their  victory,  and  the  terror 
of  their  arms,  to  demand  contributions  from 
the  numerous  and  wealthy  towns  in  that  neigh- 
bourhood. The  several  divisions  returned  to 
Sestos,  having  met  with  very  indifferent  success 
in  their  design  ; nor,  without  obtaining  more 
decisive  and  important  advantages,  could  they 
expect  to  intimidate  such  strongly  fortified 
places  as  Byzantium,  Selembria,  Perinthus,  on 
the  European,  or  Lampsacus,  Parium,  Chalce- 
don,  on  the  Asiatic,  coast.  It  was  determined 
therefore,  chiefly  by  the  advice  of  Alcibiades,  to 
attack  the  enemy  at  Cyzicus ; for  which  pur 
pose  they  sailed,  with  eighty  galleys,  to  the 
small  island  of  Proconnesus,  near  the  western 
extremity  of  the  Propontis,  and  ten  miles  distant 
from  the  station  of  the  Peloponnesian  fleet. 
Alcibiades  surprised  sixty  vessels  in  a dark  and 
rainy  morning,  as  they  were  manoeuvring  at  a 
distance  from  the  harbour,  and  skilfully  inter- 
cepted their  retreat.  As  the  day  cleared  up,  the 
rest  sailed  forth  to  their  assistance ; the  action 
became  general ; the  Athenians  obtained  a 
complete  victory,  and  their  valour  was  rewarded 
by  the  capture  of  the  whole  Peloponnesian  fleet, 
except  the  Syracusan  ships,  which  were  burned, 
in  the  face  of  a victorious  enemy,  by  the  en- 
terprising Hermocrates.  The  circumstances 
and  consequences  of  this  important  action  were 
related  in  few,  but  expressive  words,  to  the 
Spartan  senate,  in  a letter  written  by  Hippo- 
crates, the  second  in  command,  and  intercepted 
by  the  Athenians  : “ All  is  lost ; our  ships  are 
taken ; Myndarus  is  slain ; the  men  want 
bread  ; we  know  not  what  to  do.”19 

The  fatal  disaster  at  Cyzicus  prevented  the 
Peloponnesians  from  obstructing,  during  the 
following  year,  the  designs  of  the  enemy,  who 
took  possession  of  that  wealthy  sea-port.,  as  well 
qi  as  of  the  strong  city  Perinthus ; 

JT?  raisecl  a large  contribution  on  Se- 
A C 410  ^emi,I‘ia » and  fortified  Chrysopolis, 
a small  town  of  Chalcedonia,  only 

9 Id.  ibid. 

10  Xenopb.  Hcllen.  1.  i.  c.  i.  et  Plut.  p.  60.  in  Alcibiad. 


24S 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


three  miles  distant  from  Byzantium.  In  this 
new  fortress  they  placed  a considerable  body 
of  troops ; and  guarded  the  neighbouring  strait 
with  a squadron  of  thirty  sail,  commanded  by 
Theramenes  and  Eubuius,  and  destined  to  ex- 
act, as  tribute,  a tenth  from  all  ships  which 
sailed  through  the  Bosphorus  into  the  Euxine 
sea.1 2  The  Peloponnesians  were  assisted  by 
Phamabazus  in  equipping  a new  fleet ; but 
were  deprived  of  the  wise  counsels  of  Her- 
mocrates,  whose  abilities  were  well  fitted  both 
to  prepare  and  to  employ  the  resources  of  war. 
The  success  of  the  Asiatic  expedition  had  not 
corresponded  to  the  sanguine  hopes  ofhis  coun- 
trymen ; the  insolent  populace  accused  the  inca- 
pacity of  their  commanders;  and  a mandate  was 
sent  from  Syracuse,  depriving  them  of  their 
office,  and  punishing  them  with  banishment. 
The  conduct  of  Hermocrates  is  worthy  of  ad- 
miration. Having  called  an  assembly,  he  de- 
plored his  hard  fortune,  but  recommended  the 
most  submissive  obedience  to  the  authority  of 
the  republic.  He  then  exhorted  the  sailors  to 
name  temporary  commanders,  till  the  arrival  of 
those  who  had  been  appointed  by  their  country. 
But  the  assembly,  especially  the  captains  and 
pilots,  tumultuously  called  out,  “ That  he  and 
his  colleagues  ought  to  continue  in  the  com- 
mand.” Hermocrates  then  conjured  them  M not 
to  rebel  against  the  government.  When  they 
should  return  home,  they  would  then  enjoy  a 
fair  opportunity  to  do  justice  to  their  admirals, 
by  recounting  the  battles  which  they  had  won. 
by  enumerating  the  ships  which  they  had  taken, 
and  by  relating  how  their  own  courage,  and  the 
conduct  of  their  commanders,  had  entitled  them 
to  the  most  honourable  place  in  every  engage- 
ment by  sea  and  land.”  At  the  earnest  and 
unanimous  entreaty  of  the  assembly,  he  con- 
sented, however,  to  retain  his  authority,  till  the 
arrival  of  his  successors.  His  colleagues  imi- 
tated the  example ; and  soon  after  this  memo- 
rable scene,  Demarchus,  Mysco,  and  Potamis, 
the  admirals  named  by  the  state,  took  the 
command  of  the  Syracusan  forces.  Yet  the 
soldiers  and  sailors  would  not  allow  their  be- 
oved  leaders  to  depart,  before  taking  in  their 
presence  a solemn  oath  to  revoke  their  unjust 
banishment,  whenever  they  themselves  return- 
ed to  Syracuse.  On  Hermocrates  in  particular, 
the  captains  and  pilots  bestowed  many  distin- 
guished tokens  of  their  affection  and  respect 
which  his  behaviour  had  justly  merited : for 
every  morning  and  evening  he  had  called  them 
together,  communicated  his  designs,  asked  their 
opinion  and  advice,  reviewed  the  past,  and 
concerted  the  future,  operations  of  the  war; 
while  his  popular  manners  and  condescending 
affability  secured  the  love  of  tho£e  who  re- 
spected his  skill,  his  vigilance,  and  his  courage.3 

Meanwhile  Thrasyllus  obtained  at  Athens 
the  supplies  which  he  had  gone  to  solicit ; sup- 


1 It  is  well  known,  that  Mahomet  the  Second  obtained 
the  same  end,  by  fortifying  two  castles,  one  on  the  Asiatic, 
and  another  on  the  European  side.  That  near  to  Chryso- 
polis  is  called  by  the  modern  Greeks  Xeocastron ; bnt  the 
name  of  the  town  itself  is  now  changed  to  Scutari,  a place 
deemed  by  the  Turks  one  of  the  suburbs  of  Constantinople. 

Tocrxeforte,  Leltre  15. 

2 Xenopb.  p.  431 


Ql  plies  far  more  powerful  than  he  had 

' reason  to  expect.  They  consisted 
k C 40  Q ^ a thOU5and  heavy-armed  men,  a 
hundred  horse,  and  fifty  galleys, 
manned  by  five  thousand  experienced  seamen. 
That  the  sailors  might  be  usefully  employed  on 
every  emergence  at  sea  or  land,  they  were  pro- 
vided with  the  small  and  light  bucklers,  and 
darts,  swords,  and  javelins,  appropriated  to  the 
Grecian  targeteers,  who,  uniting  strength  and 
velocity,  formed  an  intermediate  and  useful 
order  between  the  archers  and  pikemen.  With 
these  forces,  Thrasyllus  sailed  to  Samos,  hoping 
to  render  the  twenty-third  campaign  not  less 
glorious  than  the  preceding ; and  ambitious  to 
rival,  by  his  victories  in  the  central  and  south- 
ern parts  of  the  Asiatic  coast,  the  fame  acquired 
by  Alcibiades  and  Thrasybulus  in  the  north. 
His  first  operations  were  successful.  He  took 
Colophon,  with  several  places  of  less  note,  in 
Ionia  ; penetrated  into  the  heart  of  Lydia,  burn- 
ing the  corn  and  villages  ; and  returned  to  the 
shore,  driving  before  him  a numerous  body  of 
slaves,  and  other  valuable  booty.  His  courage 
was  increased  by  the  want  of  resistance  on  the 
part  of  Tissaphemes,  whose  province  he  had 
invaded : of  the  Peloponnesian  forces  at  Miletus; 
and  of  the  revolted  colonies  of  Athens.  He 
resolved,  therefore,  to  attack  the  beautiful  and 
flourishing  city  of  Ephesus,  which  was  then  the 
prinqipal  ornament  and  defence  of  the  Ionic 
coast.  While  his  soldiers,  in  separate  divisions, 
were  making  their  approaches  to  the  walls  of 
that  place,  the  enemy  assembled  from  every 
quarter  to  defend  the  majesty  of  Ephesian 
Diana.  A vigorous  sally  of  the  townsmen  in- 
creased the  strength  of  Tissaphemes  and  the 
Peloponnesians,  the  latter  of  whom  had  been 
seasonably  reinforced  by  a considerable  squad- 
ron from  Sicily.  The  Athenians  were  defeated, 
with  the  loss  of  three  hundred  men ; and  re- 
tiring from  the  field  of  battle,  they  sought 
refuge  in  their  ships,  and  prepared  to  sail  to- 
ward the  Hellespont.3 

During  the  voyage  thither,  they  fell  in  with 
twenty  Sicilian  galleys,  of  which  they  took  four, 
and  pursued  the  rest  to  Ephesus.  Having  soon 
afterwards  reached  the  Hellespont,  they  found 
the  Athenian  armament  at  Lampsacus.  where 
Alcibiades  thought  proper  to  muster  the  whole 
military  and  naval  forces : but,  on  this  occasion, 
the  northern  army  gave  a remarkable  proof  of 
pride  or  spirit.  They,  who  had  ever  been  victo- 
rious, refused  to  rank  with  the  soldiers  of  Thra- 
syllus, who  had  been  so  shamefully  foiled  before 
the  walls  of  Ephesus.  They  submitted,  how- 
ever, though  not  without  reluctance,  to  live  in 
the  same  winter-quarters ; from  which  they 
made  a conjunct  expedition  against  Abydus. 
Phamabazus  defended  the  place  with  a nume- 
rous body  of  Persian  cavalry.  The  disgraced 
troops  of  Thrasyllus  rejoiced  in  an  opportunity 
to  retrieve  their  honour.  They  attacked,  repel- 
led, and  routed  the  enemy.  Their  victory  de- 
cided the  fate  of  AbyduA,  and  their  courage  was 
approved  by  the  army  of  Alcibiades,  who  em- 
braced them  as  fellow-soldiers  and  friends. 


3 Xenoph.  Helien.  L L p.  434. 


XXI.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


249 


For  several  years  the  measures 
of  the  Athenians  had  been  almost 
uniformly  successful ; but  the  twen- 
ty-fourth campaign  was  distinguish- 
ed by  peculiar  favours  of  fortune.  The  invasion 
of  Sicily  .by  the  Carthagenians  prevented  that 
island  from  sending  any  effectual  assistance  to 
their  Peloponnesian  allies.  The  dangerous  re- 
volt of  the  Medes  withheld  the  Persian  rein- 
forcements, which  were  necessary  to  support 
the  arms  of  Pharnabazus.4  Both  nations  were 
repeatedly  defeated  by  the  Athenians,  driven 
from  their  encampments  and  fortresses  near  the 
shore,  and  pursued  into  the  inland  country, 
which  was  plundered  and  desolated  by  the  vic- 
tors. The  Athenians  returned  in  triumph  to 
attack  the  fortified  cities,  which  still  declined 
submission ; an  undertaking  in  which  Alcibiades 
displayed  the  wonderful  resources  of  his  extra- 
ordinary genius.  By  gradual  approaches,  by 
sudden  assaults,  by  surprise,  by  treason,  or  by 
stratagem,  he  in  a few  months  became  master 
of  Chalcedon,  Selembria,  and  at  last  of  Byzan- 
tium itself.  His  naval  success  was  equally  con- 
spicuous. The  Athenians  again  commanded 
the  sea.  The  small  squadrons  fitted  out  by 
the  enemy  successively  fell  into  their  power ; 
and  these  multiplied  captures,  which  were  made 
with  little  difficulty,  accumulated  the  trophies 
of  the  well-fought  battles  which  we  have  al- 
ready described.  It  was  computed  by  the  par- 
tisans of  Alcibiades,  that,  since  assuming  the 
command,  he  had.  taken  or  destroyed  two  hun- 
dred Syracusan  and  Peloponnesian  galleys ; 
and  his  superiority  of  naval  strength  enabled 
him  to  raise  such  contributions,  both  in  the 
Euxine  and  Mediterrenean,  as  abundantly  sup- 
plied his  fleet  and  army  with  every  necessary 
article  of  subsistence  and  accommodation.5 
p..  While  the  Athenian  arms  were 

crowned  with  such  glory  abroad, 
the  Attic  territory  was  continually 
’ ' * harassed  by  king  Agis,  and  the  La- 

cedeemonian  troops  posted  at  Decelia.  Their  bold 
and  sudden  incursions  frequently  threatened  the 
safety  of  the  city  itself ; the  desolated  lands  af- 
forded no  advantage  to  the  ruined  proprietors  ; 
nor  could  the  Athenians  venture  without  their 
walls,  to  celebrate  their  accustomed  festivals. 
Alcibiades,  animated  by  his  foreign  victories, 
hoped  to  relieve  the  domestic  sufferings  of  his 
country ; and  after  an  absence  of  many  years, 
distinguished  by  such  a variety  of  fortune, 
eagerly  longed  to  revisit  his  native  city,  and  to 
enjoy  the  rewards  and  honours  usually  bestow- 
ed by  the  Greeks  on  successful  valour.  This 
celebrated  voyage,  which  several  ancient  histo- 
rians studiously  decorated  with  every  circum- 
stance of  naval  triumph,6  was  performed  in  the 
twenty-fifth  summer  of  the  war.  Notwith- 
standing all  his  services,  the  cautious  son  of 
Clinias,  instructed  by  adversity,  declined  to  land 
in  the  Piraeus,  until  he  was  informed  that  the 
assembly  had  repealed  the  decrees  against 
him,  formally  revoked  his  banishment,  and  pro- 
longed the  term  of  his  command.  Even  after 
this  agreeable  intelligence  he  was  still  unable 


4 Diodorus.  1.  xiii. 

5 Xenoph.  Hellen.  Diodor.  1.  xiii.  Plut  in  Alcibiad. 

6 Duris  apud  Plui.  in  Akibiad 

21 


to  conquer  his  well-founded  distrust  of  the  va 
riable  and  capricious  humours  of  the  people; 
nor  would  he  approach  the  crowded  shore,  till 
he  observed,  in  the  midst  of  the  multitude,  his 
principal  friends  and  relations  inviting  him  by 
their  voice  and  action.  He  then  landed  amidst 
the  universal  acclamations  of  the  spectators, 
who,  unattentive  to  the  naval  pomp,  and  re- 
gardless of  the  other  commanders,  fixed  their 
eyes  only  on  Alcibiades.  Next  day  an  extraor- 
dinary assembly  was  summoned,  by  order  of 
the  magistrates,  that  he  might  explain  and  justify 
his  apparent  misconduct,  and  receive  the  re- 
wards due  to  his  acknowledged  merit.  The 
public  anticipated  his  apology,  by  contrasting 
the  melancholy  situation  of  affairs  when  Alcibi- 
ades assumed  the  command  with  the  actual 
condition  of  the  republic.  u At  the  former  pe- 
riod Athens  yielded  the  command  of  the  sea : 
the  enemy  were  every  where  victorious ; the 
state  was  oppressed  by  foreign  war,  torn  by  se- 
dition, without  resources,  and  without  hope.  The 
address  and  dexterity  of  Alcibiades  were  alone 
capable  to  have  disunited  the  councils,  to  have 
weakened  and  afterwards  repelled  the  efforts, 
of  a powerful  confederacy ; his  activity  and 
courage  could  alone  have  animated  the  dejec- 
tion of  the  citizens  to  pursue  the  measures  of 
offensive  war  : his  abilities,  his  virtue,  and  his 
fortune,  could  alone  have  rendered  those  mea- 
sures successful.” 

Before  judges  so  favourably  disposed  to  hear 
him,  Alcioiades  found  no  difficulty  to  make  his 
defence  ; but  it  was  difficult  both  for  him  and 
his  friends  to  moderate  the  excessive  transports 
of  the  people,  who  would  have  loaded  their 
favourite  with  honours  incompatible  with  the 
genius  of  a free  republic,  and  which  might, 
therefore,  have  proved  dangerous  to  his  future 
safety.  He  received  with  pleasure,  the  crowns 
and  garlands,  with  other  accustomed  pledges 
of  public  gratitude  and  admiration ; but  he  re- 
spectfully declined  the  royal  sceptre,  expressing 
a firm  resolution  to  maintain  the  hereditary 
freedom  of  his  country.7 8  Athens  required  not 
a king,  but  a general  with  undivided  power, 
capable  of  restoring  the  ancient  splendour  of 
the  commonwealth.  To  this  illustrious  rank, 
which  had  been  filled  by  Themistocles  and  Ci- 
mon,  the  son  of  Clinias  might  justly  aspire.  He 
was  appointed  commander  in  chief  by  sea  and 
land. 8 A hundred  galleys  were  equipped,  and 
transports  were  prepared  for  fifteen  hundred 
heavy-armed  men,  with  a proportional  body  of 
cavalry. 

Several  months9 10  had  passed  in  these  prepara- 
tions, when  the  Eleusinian  festival  approached; 
a time  destined  to  commemorate  and  to  diffuse 
the  temporal  and  spiritual  gifts  of  the  goddess 
Ceres,  originally  bestowed  on  the  Athenians, 
and  by  them  communicated  to  the  rest  of 
Greece.19  Corn,  wine,  and  oil,  were  the  prin- 

7 Com.  Isocrat.  Orat.  pro  Alcibiad.  ct  Plut.  in  Alcibiad. 

8 Avaigi)5s»s  u.7TXvt<jiv  v\yiffuv  uvTOxgctTuig.  “He  was 
chosen  absolute  commander  of  all.”  Xenoph.  p.  440. 

9 From  the  festivals  Plyntcriu  and  Eleusinia,  mentioned 
in  the  text,  it  appears  that  he  arrived  in  July,  and  sailed  in 
November. 

10  Meursius,  apud  Gronov.  Thcsnur.  has  collected  all 
• he  passages  in  ancient  writers  respecting  this  festival.  It 

said  to  have  been  celebrated  in  the  month  Roodromion, 
which,  according  to  Father  Petaut,  answers  to  our  Novera- 


Olymp. 
xciii.  1. 

A.  C.  408. 


250 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


cipal  production  of  Attica ; each  of  which  had 
been  introduced  into  that  country  by  the  pro- 
pitious intervention  of  a divinity,  whose  festival 
was  distinguished  by  appropriated  honours. 
Minerva,  who  had  given  not  only  the  olive,  but 
what  was  regarded  as  far  more  valuable,  her 
peculiar  protection  to  the  city  of  Athens,  was 
rewarded  with  innumerable  solemnities.  Va- 
rious also  were  the  professions  of  gratitude 
expressed,  in  stated  days  of  the  spring  and 
autumn,  to  the  generous  author  of  the  vine. 
The  worship  of  Ceres  returned,  indeed,  less  fre- 
quently ; but  was  partly,  on  that  account,  the 
more  solemn  and  awful ; and  partly,  because 
distinguished  by  the  Eleusinian  mysteries,  those 
hidden  treasures  of  wisdom  and  happiness, 
which  were  poured  out  on  the  initiated  in  the 
temple  of  Eleusis.  Fourteen* 1  centuries  before 
the  Christian  era,  the  goddess,  it  is  said,  com- 
municated these  invaluable  rights  to  Eumolpus 
and  Keryx,  two  virtuous  men,  who  had  re- 
ceived her  in  the  form  of  an  unknown  traveller 
with  pious  hospitality.2  Their  descendants,  the 
Eumolpidse  and  Kerykes,  continued  the  minis- 
ters and  guardians  of  this  memorable  institu- 
tion, which  was  finally  abolished  by  the  great 
Theodosius,  after  it  had  lasted  eighteen  hundred 
years.3  The  candidates  for  initiation  were 
prepared  by  watching,  abstinence,  sacrifice,  and 
prayer ; and  before  revealing  to  them  the  divine 
secrets,  the  most  awful  silence  was  enjoined 
them.  Yet  enough  transpired  among  the  pro- 
fane vulgar  to  enable  us  still  to  collect,  from 
impartial4  and  authentic  testimony,  that  the 
mysteries  of  Ceres  expressed  by  external  signs 
the  immortality  of  the  human  soul,  and  the 
rewards  prepared  in  a future  life  for  the  virtu- 
ous servants  of  heaven.  The  secrecy  enjoined 
by  her  ministers,  so  unworthy  the  truths  which 
hey  taught,  might  justify  the  indifference  of 
Socrates,5  whose  doctrines,  not  less  divine,  were 
inculcated  with  unreserved  freedom.  But  the 
fate  of  Socrates  may  justify  in  its  turn,  the 
circumspection  of  the  hierophants  of  Ceres. 

Besides  the  mysterious  ceremonies  of  the 
temple,  the  worship  of  that  bountiful  goddess 
was  celebrated  by  vocal  and  instrumental  music, 
by  public  shows,  and  exhibitions,  which  con- 
tinued during  several  days,  and  above  all,  by  the 


ber.  But  as  the  Attic  year  was  lunar,  the  months  of  that 
year -could  not  exactly  correspond  to  thdse  of  ours.  In  the 
computation  of  their  months,  the  Greeks  agreed  not  with 
other  nations,  nor  even  among  themselves.  Vid.  Plut.  in 
Vit.  Romul.  et  Aristid. 

1 Marb.  Arund.  Epoch.  14. 

2 Diodor.  1.  v.  Isocrat  Panegyr.  Pollux,  1.  viii.  c.  ix. 

3 Zozim.  Hist.  1.  iv. 

4 I say  impartial , because  Isocrates,  the  scholar  of  So- 
crates, cannot  be  supposed  to  exaggerate  the  merit  of  cere- 
monies, which  his  master  is  said  to  have  despised.  The 
passage  is  remarkable : “ Though  what  I am  going  to  relate 
may  be  disfigured  by  tradition  and  fable,  the  substance  of 
it  is  not  the  less  deserving  of  your  regard.  When  Ceres 
travelled  to  Attica  in  quest  of  her  daughter,  she  received 
the  most  hospitable  treatment,  and  those  particular  good 
offices  which  are  known  to  the  initiated.  The  goddess  was 
not  ungrateful  for  such  favours,  but  in  return  conferred  on 
our  ancestors  the  two  most  valuable  presents  which  either 
heaven  can  bestow,  or  mankind  can  receive  : the  practice 
of  agriculture,  which  delivered  us  from  the  fierce  and  pre- 
carious manner  of  life,  common  to  us  with  wild  animals  ; 
and  the  knowledge  of  those  sacred  mysteries  which  fortify 
the  initiated  against  the  terrors  of  death,  and  inspire  them 
with  the  pleasing  hopes  of  a happy  immortality.”  See 
Panegyr.  p.  24.  et  Eusob.  Pracpar.  Evang.  1.  iii. 

5 Laert.  in  Diogene. 


[Chap. 

pompous  procession,  which  marched  for  ten 
miles  along  the  sacred  road  leading  from  Athens 
to  Eleusis.6  This  important  part  of  the  so- 
lemnity had  formerly  been  intermitted,  because 
the  Athenians,  after  the  loss  of  Decelia,  were 
no  longer  masters  of  the  road,  and  were  com- 
pelled, contrary  to  established  custom,  to  pro- 
ceed by  sea  to  the  temple  of  Ceres.  Alcibiades 
determined  to  wipe  off*  the  stain  of  impiety 
which  had  long  adhered  to  his  character,  by 
renewing,  in  all  its  lustre,  this  venerable  pro- 
cession. He  prepared  to  defend,  by  an  armed 
force,  the  peaceful  ministers  and  votaries  of  the 
gods,  persuaded  that  the  Spartans  would  either 
allow  them  to  pass  undisturbed,  which  must 
lessen  the  military  fame  of  that  people,  or,  if 
they  attempted  to  interrupt  the  ceremony,  must 
be  exposed  not  only  to  the  dangerous  resistance 
of  men  animated  by  enthusiasm,  but  to  the  dis- 
graceful charge  of  irreligion,  and  the  general 
detestation  of  Greece.  The  priests,  the  heralds, 
and  the  whole  body  of  the  initiated,  were  ap- 
prized of  his  intention,  and  requested  to  hold 
themselves  in  readiness  by  the  appointed  day 
Early  in  the  morning  the  cavalry  explored  the 
adjoining  country ; the  eminences  were  occu- 
pied by  the  light  infantry  and  targeteers ; and, 
after  sufficient  garrisons  had  been  left  to  de- 
fend the  Athenian  walls  and  fortresses,  the 
whole  body  of  heavy-armed  troops  were  drawn 
out  to  protect  the  Eleusinian  procession,  which 
marched  along  the  usual  road  to  the  temple, 
and  afterwards  returned  to  Athens,  without  suf- 
fering any  molestation  from  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians ; having  united,  on  this  occasion  alone, 
all  the  slendour  of  war  with  the  pomp  of  super- 
stition.7 

Soon  after  this  meritorious  enterprise,  Alci- 
biades prepared  to  sail  for  Lesser  Asia,  accom- 
panied by  the  affectionate  admiration  of  his 
fellow  citizens,  who  flattered  themselves  that 
the  abilities  and  fortune  of  their  commander 
would  speedily  reduce  Chios,  Ephesus,  Miletus, 
and  the  other  revolted  cities  and  islands.  The 
general  alacrity,  however,  was  somewhat  abated 
by  the  reflection,  that  the  arrival  of  Alcibiades 
in  Athens  coincided  with  the  anniversary  of 
the  Plynteria,6  a day  condemned  to  melancholy 
idleness,  from  a superstitious  belief  that  nothing 
undertaken  on  that  day  could  be  brought  to  a 
prosperous  conclusion.  The  celebrated  Parthe- 
non, whose  remains  still  attest  the  magnificence 
of  Pericles,  was  consecrated  by  the  presence  of 
a goddess,  who  realized  the  inspirations  of  Ho- 
mer, as  far  as  they  were  capable  of  being  ex- 
pressed by  the  genius  of  Phidias.  Minerva, 
composed  of  gold  and  ivory,  and  twenty-six 
cubits  high,  was  represented  with  the  casque, 
the  buckler,  the  lance,  and  all  her  usual  em- 
blems ; and  the  warm  fancy  of  the  Athenians, 
enlivened  and  transported  by  the  graceful  ma- 
jesty of  her  air  and  aspect,  confounded  the 
painful  production  of  the  statuary  with  the 
instantaneous  creation  of  Jupiter.  To  confirm 
this  useful  allusion  the  crafty  priests  of  the 
temple  carefully  washed  and  brightened  the 


6 Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  lxv.  et  Plut.  in  Alcibiad. 

7 Plut.  in  Alcibiad. 

8 ITx.uv£4v,  to  wash;  7rXuvriff«o? ; ana  in  tht 

plural  neuter,  “ the  ceremony  of  ablution.” 


251 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


XXL] 

image,  whose  extraordinary  lustre  increased  the 
veneration  of  the  multitude.  The  Plynteria, 
during  which  the  ceremony  was  performed, 
required  uncommon  secrecy  and  circumspec- 
tion. The  eyes  and  imagination  of  the  vulgar 
might  have  become  too  familiar  with  their  re- 
vered goddess,  had  they  beheld  her  stripped  of 
her  accustomed  ornaments,  and  observed  every 
part  of  her  form  brightening  into  new  beauty 
under  the  plastic  hands  of  the  priests.  To  pre- 


vent this  dangerous  consequence,  the  Plynteria 
was  veiled  in  mystic  obscurity  ; the  doors  of 
the  temple  were  shut  ; the  sacred  edifice  was 
surrounded  on  all  sides  to  intercept  the  approach 
of  indiscretion  or  profanity  ; and  the  return  of 
Alcibiades,  the  favourite  hope  of  his  country, 
happening  on  the  inauspicious  day  when  Mi- 
nerva hid  her  countenance,  was  believed  by 
many  to  announce  the  dreadful  calamities  which 
soon  afterwards  befell  the  republic.9 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


Character  of  Lysander — His  conference  with  Cyrus — He  defeats  the  Athenian  Fleet — Disgrace 
of  Alcibiades — Lysander  succeeded  by  Callicratidas — His  Transactions  with  the  Persians — 
with  the  Spartan  Allies — Battle  of  Arginussce — Trial  of  the  Athenian  Admirals — Eteonicus 
checks  a Mutiny  of  the  Peloponnesian  Troops — Lysander  resumes  the  Command — Battle  of 
JEgos  Potamos — Spartan  Empire  in  Asia — Siege  and  Surrender  of  Athens — Humiliation  of 
the  Athenians. 


'ITrHTLE  the  superstitious  multitude  trem- 
* ’ bled  at  the  imaginary  anger  of  Minerva, 
men  of  reflection  and  experience  dreaded  the 
activity  and  valour  of  Lysander,  who,  during 
the  residence  of  Alcibiades  at  Athens, had  taken 
the  command  of  the  Peloponnesian  forces  in 
the  East. 


Olymp. 
xciii.  2. 
A.  C.  407 


The  forms  of  the  Spartan  constitu- 
tion required  a rapid  succession  of 
generals ; a circumstance,  which, 
amidst  the  numerous  inconveniences 
with  which  it  was  attended,  enlarg- 
ed the  sphere  of  military  competition,  and  multi- 
plying the  number  of  actors  on  the  theatre  of 
war,  afforded  an  opportunity  for  the  display  of 
many  illustrious  characters,  which  must  other- 
wise have  remained  in  obscurity.  In  the  rota- 
tion of  annual  elections,  offices  of  importance 
and  dignity  will  often  be  entrusted  to  men  un- 
worthy to  fill  them  ; but  in  the  vast  variety  of 
experiments,  abilities  of  the  most  distinguished 
order  (if  any  such  exist  in  the  community)  must 
some  time  be  called  into  exertion,  honoured 
with  confidence,  and  armed  with  authority. 

Such  abilities  the  Spartans  finally  discovered 
in  Lysander ; a shoot  of  the  Herculean  stock, 
but  not  descended  from  either  of  the  royal 
branches.  He  had  been  educated  with  all  the 
severity  of  Spartan  discipline ; and  having 
spent  his  youth  and  his  manhood  in  those  ho- 
nourable employments10 *  which  became  the  dig- 
nity of  his  birth,  he  approached  the  decline  of 
life,  when  his  superior  merit  recommended  him 
to  the  chief  command  in  a season  of  public 
danger.  Years  had  added  experience  to  his 
valour,  and  enlarged  the  resources,  without 
abating  the  ardour  of  his  ambitious  mind.  In 
his  transactions  with  the  world,  he  had  learned 
to  soften  the  harsh  asperity  of  his  national 
manners ; to  gain  by  fraud  what  could  not  be 
effected  by  force ; and,  in  his  own  figurative 


9 Xennph.  p.  438.  et  Pint,  in  Alcibiad. 

10  He  had  served  in  the  army  and  navy;  had  been  em- 

ployed as  ambassador  in  foreign  states,  &c.  Pint,  in 

Lysand. 


language,  to  “ eke  out  the  lion’s  with  the  fox’s 
skin.”11  This  mixed  character  admirably  suited 
the  part  which  he  was  called  to  act.  His  en- 
terprising courage  was  successfully  exerted  in 
the  hostile  operations  against  the  Greeks ; his 
subtle  and  insinuating  address  gave  him  an  as- 
cendant in  every  negotiation  with  the  Persians; 
and  the  re-union  of  those  various  qualities  en- 
abled him,  in  a few  years,  finally  to  terminate 
the  war,  and  to  produce  an  important  and  per- 
manent revolution  in  the  affairs  of  Athens,  of 
Sparta,  and  of  Greece. 

Oivmn  Since  the  decisive  action  at  Cy- 

xeni  2 zicusi  the  Peloponnesians,  unable  to 
A C 407  res*st  enemy;  had  been  employ- 
ed in  preparing  ships  on  the  coast 
of  their  own  peninsula,  as  well  as  in  the  har- 
bours of  their  Persian  and  Grecian  allies.  The 
most  considerable  squadrons  had  been  equipped 
in  Cos,  Rhodes,  Miletus,  and  Ephesus ; in  the 
last  of  which  the  whole  armament,  amounting 
to  ninety  sail,  was  collected  by  Lysander.  But 
the  assembling  of  such  a force  was  a matter  of 
little  conseq  uence,  unless  proper  measures  should 
be  taken  for  holding  it  together,  and  for  enabling 
it  to  act  with  vigour.  It  was  necessary,  above 
all,  to  secure  pay  for  the  seamen  ; for  this  pur- 
pose, Lysander,  accompanied  by  several  Lace- 
dsemofiian  ambassadors,  repaired  to  Sardis,  to 
congratulate  the  happy  arrival  of  Cyrus,  a ge- 
nerous and  valiant  youth  of  seventeen,  who 
had  been  entrusted  by  his  father  Darius  with 
the  government  of  the  inland  parts  of  Lesser 
Asia ; or,  in  the  language  of  the  Persian  court, 
with  the  command  of  the  numerous  troops, 
who  rendezvoused  in  the  plains  of  Kastolus.12 


11  This  was  said  in  allusion  to  tho  lion’s  skin  of  Hercules, 
to  one  who  asked  Lysnnder,  “ How  ho,  who  sprang  from 
that  hero,  could  condescend  to  conquer  his  enemies  by 
fraud?”  His  character  is  diffusely  described  by  Plutarch. 
t.iii.  P.  4— 15. 

12  This  was  the  style  of  tho  letter,  confirmed  by  the 
royal  seal.  Kxt n?r'i>  Kv^w  xx^xyov  ruiv  i(  KxffrioXoy 
«c?{o»£o^iv«u/.  Xenopli.  p.  438. 


252 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Lysander  complained  to  the  young  and  mag- 
nanimous prince,  w of  the  perfidious  duplicity 
of  Tissaphernes,  by  which  the  Athenians  had 
been  enabled  to  re-assume  that  ascendant  in  the 
East,  which  had  formerly  proved  so  dangerous 
and  disgraceful  to  the  Persian  name.  That 
satrap  seemed  on  one  occasion  indeed,  to  have 
discovered  thfe  fatal  tendency  of  his  measures  ; 
and  had  attempted  to  check  the  victorious  ca- 
reer of  those  ambitious  republicans,  by  seizing 
the  person  of  Alcibiades.1  Pharnabazus  had 
more  effectually  served  the  cause  of  his  master, 
by  his  active  valour  in  the  field  ; by  detaining 
the  Athenian  ambassadors,  who  had  been  sent 
to  surprise  the  unsuspecting  generosity  of  Da- 
rius ;2  and  by  supplying  the  Peloponnesians, 
after  the  unfortunate  engagement  at  Cyzicus, 
with  the  means  of  preparing  a new  fleet,  and 
with  the  necessaries  and  conveniences  of  life, 
while  they  were  employed  in  this  useful  under- 
taking. But  Tissaphernes  was  unwilling,  and 
Pharnabazus  was  perhaps  unable,  to  discharge 
the  stipulated  pay,  without  which  the  Grecian 
seamen  and  soldiers  could  not  be  kept  together, 
or  engaged  to  act  with  vigour  against  the  com- 
mon enemy.”  Cyrus  replied,  “ That  he  had 
been  commanded  by  his  father  to  assist  the 
Lacedaemonians,  and  to  pay  their  troops  with 
the  most  exact  punctuality.  That,  for  this  pur- 
pose, he  had  carried  with  him  five  hundred 
talents  (near  a hundred  thousand  pounds  ster- 
ling ;)  and  if  such  a sum  should  be  found  in- 
sufficient, he  would  willingly  expend  his  private 
fortune,  and  even  melt  down  and  coin  into 
money  the  golden  throne  on  which  he  sat.”3 
This  discourse  gave  extraordinary  satisfaction 
to  his  Grecian  auditors  ; and  Lysander  endea- 
voured to  avail  himself  of  what,  judging  by  his 
own  character,  he  imagined  might  be  nothing 
more  than  a sudden  transport  of  generosity,  by 
requesting  that  the  seamen’s  pay  might  be  raised 
from  three  oboli  to  an  Attic  drachma  a day. 
Cyrus  answered,  u That,  on  this  subject  too,  he 
had  received  express  orders  from  his  father.4 
That  the  pay  should  continue  on  the  ancient 
footing,  and  the  Peloponnesians  regularly  re- 
ceive thirty  minae  (above  ninety  pounds  ster- 
ling) a month,  for  every  ship  which  they  fitted 
out.”  Lysander  acquiesced  with  some  reluc- 
tance, determining  to  seize  the  first  favourable 


1 This  event,  which  happened  in  the  twenty-first  year  of 
the  war,  is  related  by  Xenophon,  p.  429.  It  was  omitted  in 
the  text,  because  Alcibiades  soon  effected  his  escape ; and 
the  treachery  of  Tissaphernes  only  displayed  his  own  worth- 
lessness, without  hurting  his  enemies. 

2 This  dishonourable  transaction  was  approved  even  by 
Cyrus,  which  shows  the  disregard  of  the  Persians  to  the  laws 
of  nations.  He  begged  Pharnabazus  to  put  the  Athenian? 
in  his  hands ; at  least,  not  to  set  them  at  liberty,  that  their 
countrymen  might  be  ignorant  of  the  measures  in  agitation 
against  them.  But  a remorse  of  conscience  seized  Pharna- 
bazus, who  had  sworn,  either  to  conduct  the  ambassadors 
to  the  great  king,  or  to  send  them  to  the  Ionian  coast ; in 
consequence  of  which,  the  Athenians  were  released.  Xenoph. 
p.  438. 

3 K»«  rov  Qgovav  xar«xo\J/£it',  ev  to  £x«5sito,  ovtx  xgyvgovv 
xxi  xgvrow.  Literally,  “that  he  would  cut  in  pieces  the 
throne  on  which  he  sat,”  which  was  composed  of  silver  and 
gold. 

4 Xenophon  makes  Cyrus  answer  with  more  art  than 
truth,  “o  Se  xx\a>g  fiiv  apt | «utous  Ksysiv,  ov  Svvxtov  Ss 
iivxi  5 rxg’  x GxriKevg  C7rnrTtiKiv  xvtov  xWx  ir oi£«v.” 

Cyrus  answered,  “ that  they  (Lysander  and  the  Lacedaemo- 

nian ambassadors)  spoke  very  reasonably,  but  that  he  could 
not  act  otherwise  than  he  was  commanded  by  his  father. 


[Chap. 

opportunity  to  renew  his  petition.  But  this 
instructive  conversation  may  enable  us  to  dis- 
cover an  important  matter  of  fact  omitted  by 
historians.  As  the  military  and  naval  officers 
of  the  Greeks  were  not  distinguished  above  the 
common  men  by  the  excessive  inequality  of  their 
appointments,  we  may  compute,  from  the 
monthly  sum  of  thirty  minse,  distributed  at  the 
rate  of  three  oboli  of  daily  pay,  that  the  com- 
plement of  each  ship  amounted  to  about  two 
hundred  and  forty  sailors  ; so  that  a fleet  of 
ninety  sail  employed  twenty-one  thousand  and 
six  hundred  men. 

Before  Lysander  returned  to  Ephesus,  he  was 
invited  by  the  Persian  prince  to  a magnificent 
entertainment,  at  which,  according  to  the  cus- 
tom of  the  age,  the  most  serious  matters  were 
discussed  amidst  the  freedom  and  intemperance 
of  the  table.  This  was  a seasonable  occasion  for, 
displaying  the  arts  of  insinuation  and  flattery, 
in  which  the  Spartan  was  a complete  master. 
He  represented,  without  moderation,  and  with- 
out decency,  the  injustice  and  incapacity  of 
Tissaphernes,  who,  as  he  was  naturally  the 
rival,  might  be  suspected  soon  to  become  the 
personal  enemy  of  Cyrus.  He  magnified  the 
beauty,  the  strength,  and  the  courage,  of  the 
young  prince.  His  address  in  military  exercises, 
and  the  extraordinary  endowments  of  his  mind 
(the  fame  of  which  had  reached  the  most  dis- 
tant countries,)  were  extolled  with  the  most 
elaborate  praise.  It  is  not  improbable  that  he 
might  find  a topic  of  panegyric  in  a quality  of 
which  Cyrus  was  not  a little  vain  ; the  capacity 
of  bearing,  without  intoxication,  a greater  quan- 
tity of  liquor  than  any  of  his  equals  ;5  and  he 
might  possibly  suggest,  that  of  all  the  sons  of 
Darius,  Cyrus  was  the  best  qualified  to  succeed 
his  father,  to  fill  with  dignity  the  Persian  throne, 
and  to  emulate  the  glory  of  that  illustrious 
hero  whose  name  he  bore,  the  immortal  founder 
of  the  monarchy.  But  whatever  were  the 
topics  of  which  he  made  use,  it  is  certain  that 
he  excited  the  warmest  emotions  of  friendship 
in  the  youthful  breast  of  Cyrus,  who  drinking 
his  health  after  the  Persian  fashion,  desired  him 
to  ask  a boon,  with  full  assurance  that  nothing 
should  be  denied  him.  Lysander  replied,  with 
his  usual  address,  “ That  he  should  ask  what 
it  would  be  no  less  useful  for  the  prince  to  give, 
than  for  him  to  receive : the  addition  of  an 
obolus  a day  to  the  pay  of  the  mariners;  an 
augmentation  which,  by  inducing  the  Athenian 
crews  to  desert,  would  not  only  increase  their 
own  strength,  but  enfeeble  the  common  enemy.” 
Struck  with  the  apparent  disinterestedness  of 
this  specious  proposal,  Cyrus  ordered  him  im- 
mediately ten  thousand  daricks  (above  five 
thousand  pounds  sterling ;)  with  which  he  re- 
turned to  Ephesus,  discharged  the  arrears  due 
to  his  troops,  gave  them  a month’s  pay  in 
advance,  raised  their  daily  allowance,  and  se- 
duced innumerable  deserters  from  the  Athenian 
fleet.6 

While  Lysander  was  usefully  employed  in 
manning  his  ships,  and  preparing  them  for 
action,  Alcibiades  attacked  the  small  island  of 


5 Plut.  in  Sympos. 

6 Plut.  tom.  iii.  p.  7.  Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  i.  p.  441.  Diodor 
1.  xiii.  360. 


XXII.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


253 


Andros.  The  resistance  was  more 
cni  2 vigorous  than  he  had  reason  to  ex- 

A C 407  Pect  ’ an<*  ^mme(^^ate  necessity 
of  procuring  pay  and  subsistence 
for  the  fleet,  obliged  him  to  leave  his  work  im- 
perfect. With  a small  squadron  he  sailed  to 
raise  contributions  on  the  Ionian  or  Carian 
coast,7 8  committing  the  principal  armament  to 
Antiochus,  a man  totally  unworthy  of  such  an 
important  trust.9 10 *  Even  the  affectionate  par- 
tiality of  Alcibiades  seems  to  have  discerned 
the  unworthiness  of  his  favourite,  since  he  gave 
him  strict  orders  to  continue,  during  his  own 
absence,  in  the  harbour  of  Samos,  and  by  no 
means  to  risk  an  engagement.  This  injunction, 
as  it  could  not  prevent  the  rashness,  might  per- 
haps provoke  the  vain  levity  of  the  vice-admiral, 
who,  after  the  departure  of  his  friend,  sailed  to- 
wards Ephesus,  approached  the  sterns  of  Ly- 
sander’s  ships,  and  with  the  most  licentious 
insults  challenged  him  to  battle.  The  prudent 
Spartan  delayed  the  moment  of  attack,  until 
the  presumption  of  his  enemies  had  thrown 
them  into  scattered  disorder.9  He  then  com- 
manded the  Peloponnesian  squadrons  to  ad- 
vance. His  manoeuvres  were  judicious,  and 
executed  with  a prompt  obedience.  The  battle 
was  not  obstinate,  as  the  Athenians,  who  scarcely 
expected  any  resistance,  much  less  assault,  sunk 
at  once  from  the  insolence  of  temerity  into  the 
despondency  of  fear.  They  lost  fifteen  vessels, 
with  a considerable  part  of  their  crews.  The 
remainder  retired  disgracefully  to  Samos ; 
while  the  Lacedaemonians  profited  of  their  vic- 
tory by  the  taking  of  Eion  and  Delphinium. 
Though  fortune  thus  favoured  the  prudence 
of  Lysander,  he  declined  to  venture  a second 
engagement  with  the  superior  strength  of  Alci- 
biades, who,  having  resumed  the  command, 
employed  every  artifice  and  insult  that  might 
procure  him  an  opportunity  to  restore  the  tar- 
nished lustre  of  the  Athenian  fleet. 

But  such  an  opportunity  he  could  never  again 
find.  The  people  of  Athens,  who  expected  to 
hear  of  nothing  but  victories  and  triumphs, 
were  mortified  to  the  last  degree,  when  they 
received  intelligence  of  such  a shameful  defeat. 
As  they  could  not  suspect  the  abilities,  they 
distrusted  the  fidelity  of  their  commander. 
Their  suspicions  were  increased  and  confirmed 
by  the  arrival  of  Thrasybulus,19  who,  whether 
actuated  by  a laudable  zeal  for  the  interest  of 
the  public  service,  or  animated  by  a selfish 
jealousy  of  the  fame  and  honours  that  had  been 


7 Xenophon  says,  “ Alcibiades  sailed  to  Phocaca,”  which 
is  in  Ionia ; Plutarch  says,  “ to  the  coast  of  Caria.” 

8 Diodorus  gives  his  character  in  few  words : “Ob 
Avr»o%o;  <DV  T»I  $>UT£»  TTgoxiifOSy  xxi  trirevSuiv  Six  sxvtov 

n n-gx^xi  \x/j.7rgov.  Antiochus,  naturally  precipitate,  and 
desirous,  by  himself,  to  perform  some  splendid  exploit.” 

9 “ AierTrxgnivxis  rxtf  vxviri Xenoph.  p.  441. 

10  .Thrasybulus,  we  have  seen,  had  a principal  share  in 
bringing  about  the  recall  of  Alcibiades.  Nor  was  the  latter 
ungrateful  to  his  benefactor.  When  the  Athenians  com- 
mitted to  him  their  whole  military  and  naval  force,  “ xn-xe-xg 
TXf  Swxfttn;”  and  allowed  him  to  name  his  own  colleagues, 
or  rather  substitutes,  he  named  Thrasybulus  and  Adiman- 
tus.  Diod.  1.  xiii.  p.  368.  Considering  this  interchange  of 
good  offices  between  Alcibiades  and  Thrasybulus,  it  is  re- 
markable that  no  Greek  writer  assigns  any  reason  for  the 
animosity  that  soon  afterwards  broke  out  between  them. 
Plutarch  says,  that  Thrasybulus  was  the  bitterest  of  Alcibi- 

ades’s  enemies,  and  imputes  his  accusation  of  him  to  enmity, 

not  to  patriotism. 


so  liberally  heaped  on  a rival,  formally  im- 
peached Alcibiades  in  the  Athenian  assembly. 
“ His  misconduct  had  totally  ruined  the  affairs 
of  his  country.  A talent  for  low  buffoonery 
was  a sure  recommendation  to  his  favour. 
His  friends  were,  partially,  selected  from  the 
meanest  and  most  abandoned  of  men,  who  pos- 
sessed no  other  merit  than  that  of  being  sub- 
servient to  his  passions.  To  such  unworthy  in- 
struments the  fleet  of  Athens  was  entrusted ; 
while  the  commander  in  chief  revelled  in  de- 
bauchery with  the  harlots  of  Abydus  and 
Ionia,  qj  raised  exorbitant  contributions  on  the 
dependent  cities,  that  he  might  defray  the  ex- 
pense of  a fortress  on  the  coast  of  Thrace,  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Byzantium,  which  he  had 
erected  to  shelter  himself  against  the  just  ven- 
geance of  the  republic.” 

Were  it  necessary  to  prove  by  examples  the 
deceitful  emptiness  of  popular  favour,  this  sub- 
ject might  be  copiously  illustrated  from  the 
history  of  the  Athenians.  The  same  man, 
whom  a few  months  before  they  found  it 
impossible  sufficiently  to  reward,  was  actually 
exposed  to  the  rage  of  disappointment  and  the 
fury  of  revenge.  They  regretted  the  loss  of 
every  moment  which  intervened  between  the 
ra  lid  progress  of  their  resentment,  and  the  exe- 
cution of  their  vengeance.  In  the  same  assem- 
bly, and  on  the  same  day,  Alcibiades  was  ac- 
cused, and  almost  unanimously  condemned; 
and  that  the  affairs  of  the  republic  might  not 
again  suffer  by  the  abuse  of  undivided  power, 
ten  commanders  were  substituted  in  his  room  ; 
among  whom  were  Thrasyllus,Leon,Diomedon, 
whose  approved  valour,  and  love  of  liberty, 
justly  recommended  them  to  public  honours  ; 
Conon,  a character  as  yet  but  little  known,  but 
destined,  in  a future  period,  to  eclipse  the  fame 
of  his  contemporaries ; and  Pericles,  who  in- 
herited the  name,  the  merit,  and  the  bad  for- 
tune, of  his  illustrious  father.  The  new  gene- 
rals immediately  sailed  to  Samos ; and  Alci- 
biades sought  refuge  in  his  Thracian  fortress.11 

They  had  scarcely  assumed  the  command, 
when  an  important  alteration  took  place  in  the 
Peloponnesian  fleet.  Lysander’s  year  had  ex- 
pired, and  Callicratidas,  a Spartan  of  a very  op- 
qj  posite  character,  was  sent  to  succeed 

xv^jHg*  him.  The  active,  ambitious,  and 
A C*  4*06  lntrlguing  temper  of  the  former  had 
employed  as  much  assiduous  and 
systematic  policy  during  the  short  term  of  his 
precarious  power,  as  if  his  authority  had  never 
been  to  end.  Though  endowed  with  uncommon 
vigour  of  mind,  and  with  consummate  pru- 
dence (if  prudence  can  belong  to  a character 
deficient  in  justice  and  humanity,)  he  possessed 
not  those  amiable  and  useful  qualities  which 
alone  deserve,  and  can  alone  obtain,  public  con- 
fidence and  respect.  Lysander,  sensible  of  this 
imperfection,  had  recourse  to  the  ordinary  ex- 
pedient by  which  crafty  ambition  supplies  the 
want  of  virtue.  He  determined  to  govern  by 
parties.12  The  boldest  of  the  sailors  were  at- 

11  Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  iv.  sub.  fin.  Diodor.  xiii.  67 — 74 

12  His  maxims  breathed  the  odious  party  spirit,  “That 
it  is  impossible  to  do  too  much  good  to  friends,  or  too  much 
evil  to  enemies.  That  children  are  to  bo  deceived  by  trin- 
kets, men  by  oaths ; and  others  equally  flagitious.”  Plut 
in  Lysand. 


254 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


cached  to  his  person  by  liberal  rewards  and 
more  liberal  promises.  The  soldiers  were  in- 
dulged in  the  most  licentious  disorders.  In 
every  city  and  in  every  island,  Lysander  had  his 
partizans,  whom  he  flattered  with  the  hopes  of 
obtaining  the  same  authority  over  their  fellow 
citizens,  which  the  Spartans  enjoyed  over  the 
inferior  ranks  of  men  in  Laconia.1 

It  was  the  general  expectation  at  Ephesus, 
that  the  Spartans  would,  for  once,  depart  from 
established  practice,  in  order  to  prolong  the 
command  of  such  an  able  and  successful  officer. 
A universal  clamour  arose,  when  Callicratidas 
displayed  his  commission  in  the  council  of  the 
confederates.  The  friends  of  Lysander  affirm- 
ed, “ That  it  was  equally  imprudent  and  un- 
generous to  check  the  victorious  career  of  a 
deserving  and  fortunate  commander ; that  the 
important  charge  of  the  fleet  ought  not  to  be 
entrusted  to  men  who  were  destitute  of  expe- 
rience, and  perhaps  of  abilities  ; nor  would  it  be 
just  to  sacrifice  the  interest  of  such  a numerous 
and  powerful  confederacy  to  a punctilious  ob- 
servance of  the  Lacedaemonian  laws.”  Lysan- 
der maintained  a decent  silence  concerning  the 
character  of  his  successor,  only  observing  that 
he  resigned  to  him  a fleet  which  commanded 
the  sea.  The  noisy  acclamations  of  the  assembly 
confirmed  his  assertion. 

But  Callicratidas  had  a heart  untainted  with 
reproach,  and  incapable  of  fear.  Unabashed  by 
the  seditious  turbulence  of  his  opponents,  he 
replied,  That  he  must  withhold  his  assent  to 
the  magnified  superiority  of  the  Peloponnesian 
fleet,  unless  Lysander  should  set  sail  from 
Ephesus,  coast  along  the  isle  of  Samos  (where 
the  Athenians  then  lay,)  and  surrender  his  vic- 
torious squadrons  in  the  harbour  of  Miletus. 
The  pride  of  Lysander  might  have  been  con- 
founded by  this  judicious  and  solid  observation; 
but  his  ingenuity  suggested  a plausible  or  rather 
an  elusive  reply,  “ That  he  was  no  longer  ad- 
miral.” 

Callicratidas  then  addressed  the  assembly, 
with  the  manly  simplicity  of  an  honest  heart, 
which  disdains  the  artifice  of  words,  defies  the 
insolence  of  power,  and  defeats  the  intrigues  of 
policy.  “ Lacedaemonians  and  allies,  I should 
have  been  contented  to  stay  at  home  ; nor  does 
it  greatly  affect  me  that  Lysander,  or  any  other, 
should  be  held  a better  seaman  than  myself. 
Hither  I have  been  sent  by  my  countrymen  to 
command  the  fleet,  and  my  chief  concern  is  to 
execute  their  orders,  and  to  perform  my  duty. 
It  is  my  earnest  desire  to  promote  the  public 
interest ; but  you  can  best  inform  me  whether 
I ought  to  continue  here,  or  to  return  to  Spar- 
ta.” Wonderful  is  the  power  of  honest  inten- 
tions and  unaffected  firmness.  The  assembly 
listened  with  admiration  ; the  partisans  of  Ly- 
sander were  abashed  ; none  ventured  to  object; 
and,  after  a considerable  pause,  all  unanimously 
acknowledged  that  it  became  both  Callicratidas 
and  themselves  to  obey  the  orders  of  the  Spartan 
government.2 

Lysander,  not  a little  mortified  by  the  lan- 
guage of  the  assembly,  reluctantly  resigned  his 


1 Idem,  ibid,  et  Xenoph.  Hellen. 

S Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  i.  c.  v.  et  9eq.  et  Plut.  in  Lysand. 


[Chap. 

employment ; but  determined  to  render  it  pain- 
ful, and  if  possible,  too  weighty  for  the  abilities 
of  his  successor.  For  this  purpose  he  returned 
to  the  court  of  Cyrus,  to  whom  he  restored  a 
considerable  sum  of  money  still  unexpended  in 
the  service  of  the  Grecian  fleet,  and  to  whom 
he  misrepresented,  under  the  names  of  obsti 
nacy,  ignorance,  and  rusticity,  the  unaffected 
plainness,  the  downright  sincerity,  and  the 
other  manly,  but  uncomplying,  virtues  of  the 
generous  Callicratidas.  When  that  commander 
repaired  to  Sardis  to  demand  the  stipulated  pay, 
he  could  not  obtain  admission  to  the  royal  pre- 
sence. The  first  time  that  he  visited  the  palace 
he  was  told  that  Cyrus  was  at  table.  It  is  well, 
said  the  unceremonious  Spartan,  I will  wait 
till  he  has  dined.  The  simplicity  of  this  pro- 
ceeding, confirmed  the  opinion  which  Lysander 
had  given  the  Persians  of  his  character ; and  his 
honest  frankness,  which  was  construed  into 
low  breeding,  seemed  a proper  object  of  ridicule 
to  the  proud  retainers  of  the  court.  He  return- 
ed on  another  occasion,  but  without  being  ad, 
mitted  to  see  the  young  prince.  The  injustice 
of  this  treatment  might  have  deserved  his  re- 
sentment, but  it  chiefly  excited  his  contempt. 
He  left  the  royal  city,  despising  the  pride  and 
perfidy  of  his  Persian  allies,  whose  accidental 
importance  depended  on  the  precarious  advan- 
tage of  riches,  and  lamenting  the  domestic  dis- 
sensions of  the  Greeks,  which  obliged  them  to 
court  the  favour  of  insolent  Barbarians. 

But  Callicratidas  could  not,  with  honour  or 
safety,  return  to  the  fleet  at  Ephesus,  without 
having  collected  money  to  supply  the  immediate 
wants  of  the  sailors.  He  proceeded,  therefore, 
to  Miletus  and  other  friendly  towns  of  Ionia  ; 
and  having  met  the  principal  citizens,  in  their 
respective  assemblies,  he  explained  openly  and 
fully  the  mean  jealousy  of  Lysander,  and  the 
disdainful  arrogance  of  Cyrus.3  “ The  un- 
just behaviour  of  both  compelled  him,  much 
against  his  inclination,  to  have  recourse  to 
the  confederate  cities  (already  too  much  bur- 
dened) for  the  money  requisite  to  support  the 
war.  But  he  assured  them,  that,  should  his 
arms  prove  successful,  he  would  repay  their 
favours  with  gratitude.  Their  own  interest 
required  a cheerful  compliance  with  his  de- 
mands, since  the  expedition  had  been  principally 
undertaken  to  vindicate  their  freedom.  He  had, 
however,  sent  messengers  to  require  effectual 
supplies  from  Sparta;  but  until  these  should 
arrive,  it  became  the  Greeks  in  general,  but 
especially  the  Ionians,  who  had  suffered  pe- 
culiar injuries  from  the  usurping  tyranny  of 
the  great  king,  to  prove  to  the  world  that, 
without  the  sordid  assistance  of  his  boasted 
treasures,  they  could  prosecute  their  j ust  designs, 
and  take  vengeance  on  their  enemies.”  By 
those  judicious  and  honourable  expedients, 
Callicratidas,  without  fraud  or  violence,  ob- 
tained such  considerable,  yet  voluntary  contri- 
butions, as  enabled  him  to  gratify  the  importu- 
nate demands  of  the  sailors,  and  to  return 


3 It  will  appear  in  the  sequel,  that  Callicratidas  had 
formed  a very  false  opinion  of  the  Persian  prince,  whose 
neglect  of  a worthy  man  was  occasioned  by  the  perfidious 
suggestions  of  his  retainers,  the  friends  or  creatures  of 
Lysander. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


255 


XXII.] 

with  honour  to  Ephesus,  in  order  to  prepare 
for  action.4 

His  first  operations  were  directed  against 
the  isle  of  Lesbos,  or  rather  against  the  strong 
and  populous  towns  of  Methymna  and  Mity- 
lene, which  respectively  commanded  the  north- 
ern and  southern  divisions  of  that  island. 
Besides  the  numerous  citizens  of  an  age  to 
bear  arms,  Methymna  was  defended  by  an 
Athenian  garrison.  The  place  made  a brave 
resistance  ; but  the  persevering  efforts  of  Calli- 
cratidas  exhausted  its  strength : Methymna  was 
taken  by  storm,  and  subjected  to  the  depreda- 
tions of  the  Peloponnesian  troops.  The  garrison 
and  the  slaves  were  treated  as  part  of  the  booty. 
The  confederates  advised,  that  the  Methym- 
neari§  also  should  be  sold  into  servitude;  but 
Callicratidas  assured  them,  that,  while  he  en- 
joyed the  command,  there  should  not  any  Gre- 
cian citizen  be  reduced  to  the  condition  of  a 
slave,  unless  he  had  taken  arms  to  subvert  the 
public  freedom.5 

Mean  while  Conon,  the  most  active  and  en- 
terprising of  the  Athenian  commanders,  had  put 
to  sea  with  a squadron  of  seventy  sail,  in  order 
to  protect  the  coast  of  Lesbos.  But  this  design 
was  attempted  too  late ; nor,  had  it  been  more 
early  undertaken,  was  the  force  of  Conon  suf- 
ficient to  accomplish  it.  Callicratidas  observed 
his  motions,  discovered  his  strength,  and,  with 
a far  superior  fleet,  intercepted  his  retreat  to 
the  armament  of  Samos.  The  Athenians  fled 
towards  the  coast  of  Mitylene,  but  were  pre- 
vented from  entering  the  harbour  of  that  place 
by  the  resentment  of  the  inhabitants,  who 
rejoiced  in  an  opportunity  to  punish  those  who 
had  so  often  conquered,  and  so  long  oppressed, 
their  city.  In  consequence  of  this  unexpected 
opposition,  the  Athenian  squadron  was  over- 
taken by  the  enemy.  The  engagement  was 
more  sharp  and  obstinate  than  might  have  been 
expected  in  such  an  inequality  of  strength. 
Thirty  empty  ships  (for  the  most  of  the  men 
swam  to  land)  were  taken  by  the  Peloponne- 
sians. The  remaining  forty  were  hauled  up 
under  the  walls  of  Mitylene  : Callicratidas  re- 
called his  troops  from  Methymna,  received  a 
reinforcement  from  Chios,  and  blocked  up  the 
Athenians  by  sea  and  land.6 

The  condition  of  Conon  was  most  distressful. 
He  was  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  a superior 
force  ; the  town  of  Mitylend  was  hostile ; his 
men  were  destitute  of  provisions,  incapable  of 
resistance,  yet  unwilling  to  surrender.  In  this 
melancholy  situation,  he  attempted  the  only 
enterprise  which  could  promise  a hope  of  relief. 
The  bravest  and  most  experienced  seamen  were 
embarked  in  two  swift-sailing  vessels,  one  of 
which  eluding  the  vigilance  of  the  enemy,  es- 
caped in  safety  to  the  Hellespont,  and  informed 
the  Athenians  of  the  misfortunes  and  blockade 
at  Lesbos.  The  intelligence  was  immediately 
communicated  to  Samos  and  to  Athens ; and 
the  importance  of  the  object,  which  was  no  less 
than  the  safety  of  forty  ships,  and  above  eight 
thousand  brave  men,  excited  uncommon  exer- 
tions of  activity.  The  Athenians  reinforced 


4 Xenoph.  Hellen.  p.  444. 

5 Xenoph.  ubi  supra.  Diodor.  I.  xiii.  p.  373. 

6 Id. 


their  domestic  strength  with  the  assistance  of 
their  allies  ; all  able-bodied  men  were  pressed 
into  the  service  ; and  in  a few  weeks,  they  had 
assembled  at  Samos  a hundred  and  fifty  sail, 
which  immediately  took  the  sea,  with  a resolu- 
tion to  encounter  the  enemy. 

Callicratidas  did  not  decline  the  engagement. 
q.  Having  left  fifty  ships  to  guard  the 

xciii  3 harbour  of  Mitylene,  he  proceeded 

A C 406  a hundred  and  twenty  to  Cape 

Malea,  the  most  southern  point  of 
Lesbos.  The  Athenians  had  advanced,  the  same 
evening,  to  the  islands,  or  rather  rocks  of 
Arginussas,  four  miles  distant  from  that  pro- 
montory. The  night  passed  in  bold  stratagems 
for  mutual  surprise,  which  were  rendered  inef- 
fectual by  a violent  tempest  of  rain  and  thun- 
der. At  the  dawn  both  armaments  were  eager 
to  engage ; but  Hermon  and  Megareus,  two  ex- 
perienced seamen,  and  the  chief  counsellors  of 
Callicratidas,  exhorted  him  not  to  commit  the 
weakness  of  the  Peloponnesians  with  the  supe- 
rior strength  and  numbers  of  the  enemy.  The 
generous  and  intrepid  Spartan  despised  danger 
and  death  in  comparison  of  glory ; but  either 
his  magnanimity  had  not  overcome  the  last  im- 
perfection of  virtuous  minds,  and  was  averse  to 
sacrifice  personal  glory  to  public  utility,  or  he 
imagined  that  this  utility  could  not  be  separated 
from  an  inflexible  adherence  to  the  martial  laws 
of  LycurgusI  He  answered  the  prudent  ad- 
monitions of  his  friends  in  these  memorable 
words,  which,  according  to  the  construction 
that  is  put  on  them,7  deserve  our  admiration  or 
our  pity.  “ My  death  cannot  be  destructive  to 
Sparta,  but  my  flight  would  be  dishonourable 
both  to  Sparta  and  myself.”  So  saying,  he  gave 
the  signal  for  his  ships  to  advance.  The  fight 
was  long  and  bloody ; passing,  successively, 
through  all  the  different  gradations,  from  dis- 
ciplined order  and  regularity  to  the  most  tu- 
multuous confusion.  The  Spartan  commander 
was  slain  charging  in  the  centre  of  the  bravest 
enemies.  The  hostile  squadrons  fought  with 
various  fortune  in  different  parts  of  the  battle, 
and  promiscuously  conquered,  pursued,  surren- 
dered, or  fled.  Thirteen  Athenian  vessels  were 
taken  by  the  Peloponnesians ; but,  at  length, 
the  latter  gave  way  on  all  sides  : seventy  of 
their  ships  were  captured,  the  rest  escaped  to 
Chios  and  Phocaea.6 

The  Athenian  admirals,  though  justly  elated 
with  their  good  fortune,  cautiously  deliberated 
concerning  the  best  means  of  improving  their 
victory.  Several  advised  that  the  fleet  should 
steer  its  course  to  Mitylene,  to  surprise  the  Pe- 


7 Cicero  de  Offic.  1.  i.  c.  xxiv.  takes  the  unfavourable  side. 
“ Inventi  autom  multi  sunt,  qui  non  modo  pecuniam,  sed  vi- 
tametiam  profundere  pro  patria  parnti  essent:  iidem  «rlori;n 
jacturam  no  minimam  quidem  facere  vellent,  ne  republica 
quidem  postulante  ; ut  Callicratidas,  qui  cum  Lacedinmo- 
niorum  dux  fuisset  Pcloponnesiaco  bello,  multnquo  fecisset 
egregie;  vertit  ad  extremum  omnia,  cum  conSilio  non  paruit 
eorum,  qui  classem  ab  Arginussis  removendam,  nec  cum 
Atheniensibus  dimicandum  putabant.  Qui  bus  illo  respon- 
ds, Lacedasmonios,  classc  ilia  amissa  aliam  parare  posse; 
se  fugere  sine  suo  dedecore  non  posse.”  Notwithstanding 
the  rospectuble  authority  of  Cicero,  whoever  attentively 
considers  the  laws  of  Lycurgus  and  the  character  of  Cal- 
licratidas, will  bo  disposed  to  believe,  that  an  undeviating 
principle  of  duty,  not  the  fear  of  losing  his  glory,  formed 
the  sublime  motive  of  that  accomplished  Spartun. 

8 Xenoph.  p.  44G.  et  Diodor.  p.  384. 


256 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Ioponnesian  squadron  which  blocked  up  the  har- 
bour of  that  city.  Diomedon  recommended  it 
as  a more  immediate  and  essential  object  of  their 
care  to  recover  the  bodies  of  the  slain,  and  to 
save  the  wreck  of  twelve  vessels  which  had  been 
disabled  in  the  engagement.  Thrasybulus  ob- 
served, that  by  dividing  their  strength,  both 
purposes  might  be  effected.  His  opinion  was 
approved.  The  charge  of  preserving  the  dying, 
and  collecting  the  bodies  of  the  dead,  was  com- 
mitted to  Theramenes  and  Thrasybulus.  Fifty 
vessels  were  destined  to  that  important  service, 
doubly  recommended  by  humanity  and  supersti- 
tion. The  remainder  sailed  to  the  isle  of  Lesbos, 
in  quest  of  the  Peloponnesians  on  that  coast, 
who  narrowly  escaped  destruction  through  the 
well-conducted  stratagem  of  Eteonicus,  the 
Spartan  vice-admiral.  Soon  after  the  engage- 
ment a brigantine  arrived  at  Mitylene,  acquaint- 
ing him  with  the  death  of  Callicratidas,  as  well 
as  with  the  defeat  and  flight  of  the  Peloponne- 
sian fleet.  The  sagacity  of  Eteonicus  imme- 
diately foresaw  the  probable  consequences  of 
those  events.  The  Athenians  would  naturally 
sail  from  Arginussae'to  pursue  their  good  for- 
tune and  Conon,  who  was  shut  up  at  Mitylene, 
would  be  encouraged  to  break  through  the  har- 
bour, that  he  might  join  his  victorious  country- 
men. 

In  order  to  anticipate  those  measures,  and  to 
facilitate  his  own  retreat,  the  Spartan  com- 
mander ordered  the  brigantine  privately  to 
leave  the  harbour,  and  to  return,  at  the  distance 
of  a short  time,  with  joyous  acclamations  and 
music,  the  rowers  crowned  with  garlands,  and 
calling  out  that  Callicratidas  had  destroyed  the 
last  hope  of  Athens,  and  obtained  a glorious 
and  decisive  victory.  The  contrivance  suc- 
ceeded; the  Spartans  thanked  heaven  for  the 
good  news  by  hymns  and  sacrifices;  the  sailors 
were  enjoined  to  refresh  themselves  by  a copi- 
ous repast,  and  to  profit  of  a favourable  gale  to 
sail  to  the  isle  of  Chios;  while  the  soldiers 
burned  their  camp,  and  marched  northward  to 
Methymna,to  reinforce  the  garrison  there,  which 
was  threatened  by  a speedy  visit  of  the  enemy.1 

While  the  prudent  foresight  of  Eteonicus 
saved  the  Peloponnesian  squadron  at  Mytilene, 
the  violence  of  a storm  prevented  Theramenes 
and  Thrasybulus  from  saving  their  unfortunate 
companions,  all  of  whom,  excepting  one  of  the 
admirals  and  a few  others  who  escaped  by  their 
extraordinary  dexterity  in  swimming,  were 
overwhelmed  by  the  waves  of  a tempestuous 
sea ; nor  could  their  dead  bodies  ever  be  re- 
covered. The  Athenians  were  likewise  disap- 
pointed of  the  immediate  advantages  which 
ought  to  have  resulted  from  the  engagement. 
Methymna  was  too  strongly  fortified  to  be 
taken  by  a sudden  assault ; they  could  not 
spare  time  for  a regular  siege;  and  when  they 
proceeded  to  Chios  in  quest  of  the  Peloponne- 
sian fleet,  they  found  it  carefully  secured  in  the 
principal  harbour  of  that  island,  which  had  been 
put  in  a vigorous  posture  of  defence.  These 
unforeseen  circumstances  were  the  more  disa- 
greeable and  mortifying  to  the  commanders, 
because,  immediately  after  the  battle,  they  had 


[Chap. 

sent  an  advice-boat  to  Athens,  acquainting  the 
magistrates  with  the  capture  of  seventy  ves- 
sels ;2  mentioning  their  intended  expeditions  to 
Mitylene,  Methymna,  and  Chios,  from  which 
they  had  reason  to  hope  the  most  distinguished 
success ; and  particularly  taking  notice  that  the 
important  charge  of  recovering  the  bodies  of 
the  drowned  or  slain  had  been  committed  to 
Theramenes  and  Thrasybulus,  two  captains  of 
approved  conduct  and  fidelity. 

The  joy  which  the  Athenians  received  from 
this  flattering  intelligence  was  converted  into 
disappointment  and  sorrow,  when  they  under- 
stood that  their  fleet  had  returned  to  Samos, 
without  reaping  the  expected  fruits  of  victory. 
They  were  afflicted  beyond  measure  with  the 
total  loss  of  the  wreck,  by  which  their  brave 
and  victorious  countrymen  had  been  deprived 
of  the  sacred  rites  of  funeral;  a circumstance 
viewed  with  peculiar  horror,  because  it  was  sup- 
posed, according  to  a superstition  consecrated 
by  the  belief  of  ages,  to  subject  their  melan- 
choly shades  to  wander  a hundred  years  on  the 
gloomy  banks  of  the  Styx,  before  they  could  be 
transported  to  the  regions  of  light  and  felicity. 
The  relations  of  the  dead  lamented  their  private 
misfortunes ; the  enemies  of  the  admirals  exag- 
gerated the  public  calamity;  both  demanded 
an  immediate  and  serious  examination  into  the 
cause  of  this  distressful  event,  that  the  guilty 
might  be  discovered  and  punished. 

Amidst  the  ferment  of  popular  discontents, 
Theramenes  sailed  to  Athens,  with  a view  to 
exculpate  himself  and  his  colleague  Thrasybu- 
lus. The  letter  sent  thither  before  them  had 
excited  their  fear  and  their  resentment;  since 
it  rendered  them  responsible  for  a duty  which 
they  found  it  impossible  to  perform.  Thera- 
menes accused  the  admirals  of  having  neglected 
the  favourable  moment  to  save  the  perishing, 
and  to  recover  the  bodies  of  the  dead ; and, 
after  the  opportunity  of  this  important  service 
was  irrecoverably  lost,  of  having  devolved  the 
charge  on  others,  in  order  to  screen  their  own 
misconduct.  The  Athenians  greedily  listened 
to  the  accusation,  and  cashiered  the  absent 
commanders.  Conon,  who  during  the  action 
remained  blocked  up  at  Mitylene,  was  entrusted 
with  the  fleet.  Protomachus  and  Aristogenes 
chose  a voluntary  banishment.  The  rest  re- 
turned home  to  justify  measures  which  ap- 
peared so  criminal.3 

Among  the  inestimable  rules  of  jurispru- 
dence, invented  by  the  wisdom  of  Athens,  we 
may  remark  that  beneficial  institution  which 
subjects  the  life,  the  character,  and  the  fortune 
of  individuals,  not  to  the  capricious  will  of  an 
arbitrary  judge,  but  to  the  equitable  decision  of 
the  public.  In  every  case,  civil  and  criminal, 
the  rights  of  an  Athenian  citizen  were  entrusted 
to  the  judgment  of  his  peers;  who,  according 
as  the  question  was  more  or  less  important, 
consisted  of  a committee,  more  or  less  numer- 
ous, of  the  popular  assembly.  But,  in  order  to 
unite  the  double  advantages  of  law  and  liberty, 
the  nine  archons,  or  chief  magistrates,  men  of 
approved  wisdom  and  fidelity,  respectively  pre- 


2 Xenoph.  says  sixty-nine ; Diodorus,  seventy-seven. 

3 Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  i.  c.  vii.  et  seq.  Diodor.  xiiL 
76-97. 


1 Xenoph  Hellen.  et  Diodor.  p.  384. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


267 


XXII.] 

sided  in  the  several  courts  of  justice,  received 
complaints,  examined  the  parties,  directed  pro- 
cess, and  regularly  conducted  the  suit  through 
its  various  steps  and  stages.  In  matters  of 
general  concernment,  such  as  treason,  perfidy, 
or  malversation  of  men  in  power,  the  senate  of 
the  five  hundred,  or  rather  the  Prytanes,  who 
presided  in  the  senate,  performed  the  functions 
of  the  magistrate,  and  the  whole  body  of  the 
people,  convened  in  full  assembly,  executed  the 
office  of  judge  and  jury.  It  belonged  to  the 
Prytanes  to  prescribe  the  form  of  action  or  trial, 
and  to  admit  the  accuser  to  implead  or  impeach 
his  antagonist.  The  cause  was  then  referred 
to  the  people,  who  as  judges  of  the  fact,  gave 
their  verdict,  and,  as  judges  of  the  law,  passed 
their  sentence  or  decree.  Such  were  the  regu- 
lations which  reason  had  established,  but  which 
passion  and  interest  commonly  rendered  inef- 
fectual. 

Archedemus,  an  opulent  and  powerful  citi- 
zen, and  Callixenus,  a seditious  demagogue, 
partly  moved  by  the  intreaties  of  Theramenes, 
and  partly  excited  by  personal  envy  and  resent- 
ment, denounced  the  admirals  to  the  senate. 
The  accusation  was  supported  by  the  relations 
of  the  deceased,  who  appeared  in  mourning 
robes,  their  heads  shaved,  their  arms  folded, 
their  eyes  bathed'  in  tears,  piteously  lamenting 
the  loss  and  disgrace  of  their  families,  deprived 
of  their  protectors,  who  had  been  themselves 
deprived  of  those  last  and  solemn  duties  to 
which  all  mankind  are  entitled.  A false  witness 
swore  in  court,  that  he  had  been  saved,  almost 
by  miracle,  from  the  wreck,  and  that  his  com- 
panions, as  they  were  ready  to  be  drowned, 
charged  him  to  acquaint  his  country  how  they 
nad  fallen  victims  to  the  cruel  neglect  of  their 
commanders.  During  these  proceedings  it  hap- 
pened that  the  people  had  met  to  celebrate  the 
Apatouria,  or  festival  in  January,  so  named 
because  the  Athenians  then  presented  their 
sons,  who  had  reached  their  seventh  year, 
to  be  inscribed  in  the  register  of  their  respec- 
tive tribes.  Callixenus,  presuming  on  the  evi- 
dence given  in  the  senate,  and  on  the  actual 
disposition  of  the  assembly,  proposed  the  fol- 
lowing resolution:  “That  the  cause  of  the  ad- 
mirals should  be  immediately  referred  to  the 
people;  that  the  suffrages  should  be  given  by 
tribes,  in  each  of  which  the  criers  should  make 
proclamation,  having  prepared  two  urns  to  re- 
ceive the  white  and  black  beans;  if  the  latter 
were  more  numerous,  the  admirals  should  be 
delivered  to  the  eleven  men,  the  executioners 
of  public  justice,  their  estates  confiscated,  and 
the  tenth  part  consecrated  to  Minerva.” 

This  unjust  decree,  which  deprived  the  com- 
manders of  the  benefits  of  a separate  trial,  of 
an  impartial  hearing,  and  of  the  time  as  well  as 
the  means  necessary  to  prepare  a legal  defence, 
was  approved  by  a majority  of  the  senate,  and 
received  with  loud  acclamations  by  the  people, 
whose  levity,  insolence,  pride,  and  cruelty,  all 
eagerly  demanded  the  destruction  of  the  ad- 
mirals. In  such  a numerous  assembly,  two  men 
alone,  Euryptolemus  and  Axiochus,  defended 
the  cause  of  law  and  justice.  The  former  im- 
peached Callixenus  for  proposing  a resolution 
inconsistent  with  all  the  forms  of  legal  pro- 
9 K 


cedure.  But  the  rabble  made  a violent  uproar, 
calling  out  that  none  should  attempt,  with  im- 
punity, to  abridge  their  sovereign  power.  The 
Prytanes,  who  attended,  as  usual,  to  direct  and 
control  the  proceedings  of  the  multitude,  en- 
deavoured to  moderate  the  ferment:  but  they 
were  licentiously  told,  that  if  they  did  not  con- 
cur with  the  opinion  of  the  majority,  they 
should  be  involved  in  the  same  accusation  with 
the  admirals.  This  absurd  menace,  (such  was 
the  popular  frenzy)  might  be  carried  into  imme- 
diate execution.  The  senators  were  intimidated 
into  a reluctant  compliance  with  measures 
which  they  disapproved,  and  by  which  they 
were  for  ever  to  be  disgraced.  Yet  the  philo- 
sophic firmness  of  Socrates  disdained  to  sub- 
mit. He  protested  against  the  tameness  of  his 
colleagues,  and  declared  that  neither  threats, 
nor  danger,  nor  violence,  could  compel  him  to 
conspire  with  injustice  for  the  destruction  of 
the  innocent. 

But  what  could  avail  the  voice  of  one  virtu- 
ous man  amidst  the  licentious  madness  of  thou- 
sands ? The  commanders  were  accused,  tried, 
condemned ; and,  with  the  most  irregular  pre- 
cipitancy, delivered  to  the  executioner.  Before 
they  were  led  to  death,  Diomedan  addressed 
the  assembly  in  a short  but  ever-memorable 
speech.  “I  am  afraid,  Athenians!  lest  the  sen- 
tence which  you  have  passed  on  us,  prove  hurt- 
ful to  the  republic.  Yet  I would  exhort  you  to 
employ  the  most  proper  means  to  avert  the 
vengeance  of  heaven.  You  must  carefully  per- 
form the  sacrifices  which,  before  giving  battle 
at  Arginussae,  we  promised  to  the  gods  in  be- 
half of  ourselves  and  of  you.  Our  misfortunes 
deprive  us  of  an  opportunity  to  acquit  this  just 
debt,  and  to  pay  the  sincere  tribute  of  our  grati- 
tude. But  we  are  deeply  sensible  that  the 
assistance  of  the  gods  enabled  us  to  obtain  that 
glorious  and  signal  victory.”  The  disinterested- 
ness, the  patriotism,  and  the  magnanimity  of 
this  discourse,  must  have  appeased  (if  any  thing 
had  been  able  to  appease)  the  tumultuous  pas- 
sions ofithe  vulgar.  But  their  headstrong  fury 
defied  every  restraint  of  reason  or  of  sentiment. 
They  persisted  in  their  bloody  purpose,  which 
was  executed  without  pity:  yet  their  cruelty 
was  followed  by  a speedy  repentance,  and  pun- 
ished by  the  sharp  pangs  of  remorse,  the  in- 
tolerable pain  of  which  they  vainly  attempted 
to  mitigate  by  inflicting  a well-merited  ven- 
geance on  the  worthless  ana  detestable  Cal- 
lixenus.4 

The  removal  of  the  Athenian  admirals,  and 
the  defeat  and  death  of  the  Spartan  Callicrati- 
das,  suspended  for  several  months  the  military 
and  naval  operations  on  both  sides.  The  beha- 
viour of  Philocles  and  Adimanthus,  who  had 
been  joined  in  authority  with  Conon,  were  bet- 
ter fitted  to  obstruct  than  promote  the  measures 
of  that  brave  and  prudent  commander.  The 
former  was  a man  of  a violent  and  impetuous 
temper,  unaccustomed  to  reflection,  destitute  of 
experience,  and  incapable  of  governing  others, 
or  himself.  The  latter  possessed  perhaps  the 
virtue  of  humanity,  but  was  destitute  of  spirit 
and  activity,  qualities  so  usual  in  his  age  and 


4 Xenoph.  et  Diodor.  ibid. 


268 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


country.  Though  ready  with  his  tongue,  he 
was  slow  with  his  hand,  careless  of  discipline, 
negligent  of  duty,  and  suspected  of  a treasona- 
ble correspondence  with  the  public  enemy. 

Eteonicus,  who  commanded  the  Spartans  and 
their  confederates,  was  a man  of  a very  diffe- 
rent character.  But  the  distressful  situation  of 
affairs  prevented  him  from  displaying  his  abili- 
ties in  any  important  enterprise.  His  arma- 
ment was  inferior  in  strength ; his  sailors  were 
disheartened  by  defeat ; he  had  not  money  to  pay 
them ; even  their  subsistence  at  Chios  was  very 
sparing  and  precarious.  These  vexatious  circum- 
stances increased  the  mutinous  spirit  by  which 
the  confederates  were  too  naturally  animated. 
They  reproached  the  ungenerous  parsimony  of 
the  Chians,  whom  they  had  taken  arms  to  defend ; 
they  spurned  the  authority  of  their  commander; 
and  in  order,  to  obtain  those  advantages  which 
their  services  deserved,  and  which  had  been  un- 
justly denied  them,  they  determined  to  become 
rich  at  once  by  seizing  and  plundering  the  large 
and  wealthy  capital  of  that  flourishing  island. 
The  design,  though  secretly  formed,  was  avowed 
with  open  boldness.  The  conspirators,  whose 
numbers  seemed  to  promise  success,  or  at  least 
to  secure  impunity,  assumed  a badge  of  distinc- 
tion, that  they  might  encourage  each  other,  and 
intimidate  their  opponents.  Eteonicus  was 
justly  alarmed  with  the  progress  of  sedition. 
It  was  dangerous  to  attack  the  insurgents  by 
force:  if  he  destroyed  them  by  fraud,  he  might 
be  exposed  to  the  reproach  and  obliquy  of 
Greece.  The  conduct  which  he  pursued  was 
conceived  with  an  enterprising  courage,  and  ex- 
ecuted with  a resolute  firmness.  With  only 
fifteen  faithful  and  intrepid  followers,  armed 
with  concealed  daggers,  he  patrolled  the  streets 
of  Chios.  The  first  man  whom  they  met  dis- 
tinguished by  a reed  (for  that  was  the  badge 
of  conspiracy)  was  put  to  death,  and  a crowd 
collecting  to  know  why  the  man  had  been  slain, 
they  were  told  it  was  for  wearing  a reed  on  his 
casque.  The  report  was  immediately  spread 
through  every  quarter  of  the  city.  The  reedmen 
(as  they  were  called)  were  confounded  at  dis- 
covering a conspiracy  more  secret  and  more 
formidable  than  their  own.  They  dreaded  that 
every  man  whom  they  met  might  know  and 
kill  them;  and,  as  they  had  not  time  to  as- 
semble for  their  mutual  defence,  they  hastily 
threw  away  the  reeds,  which  exposed  them  to 
the  dangerous  assault  of  their  unknown  ene- 
mies. 

The  character  of  Eteonicus,  as 

xcni  3 **ar  aS  We  Can  juc^e  fr°m  hls  ac- 

A 1 C iftfi  tions,  justly  entitled  him  to  the 
command ; but  the  partiality  both 
of  Cyrus  and  of  the  confederates  eagerly  soli- 
cited the  return  of  Lysander.  The  Spartans, 
though  inclined  to  gratify  them,  were  perplexed 
by  an  ancient  law  enacted  in  the  jealousy  of 
freedom  to  prohibit  the  same  person  from  be- 
ing twice  entrusted  with  the  fleet.  That  they 
might  not  violate  the  respect  due  to  the  laws, 
while  at  the  same  time  they  complied  with  the 
request  of  their  powerful  allies,  they  invested 
Aracus,  a weak  and  obscure  man,  with  the 
name  of  admiral,  and  sent  out  Lysander  as 
second  in  command.  The  latter  was  received 


[Chap. 

at  Sardis,  by  the  Persian  prince,  with  the  warm- 
est demonstrations  of  joy.  He  was  supplied 
with  money  to  satisfy  the  immediate  wants  of 
the  troops ; and,  as  Cyrus  at  that  time  hap- 
pened to  make  a journey  into  Upper  Asia,  the 
revenues  of  his  wealthy  province  were  con- 
signed, in  his  absence,  to  the  management  of 
his  Spartan  friend.  Such  powerful  resources 
could  not  long  remain  unemployed  in  the  ac- 
tive hands  of  Lysander.  His  emissaries  assi 
duously  engaged  or  pressed  the  Italian  and 
Carion  seamen.  The  harbours  of  Asia  Minor, 
particularly  the  port  of  Ephesus,  glowed  with 
the  ardour  of  naval  preparation,  and  in  a few 
months  Lysander  sailed  to  the  Hellespont  with 
a hundred  and  fifty  galleys,  and  attacked  the 
important  town  of  Lampsacus.  The  place, 
though  vigorously  defended  by  the  natives  as 
well  as  by  the  Athenian  garrison,  was  at  length 
taken  by  storm ; and  according  to  the  barbar- 
ous practice  of  the  age,  abandoned  to  the  li- 
centious rapacity,  the  avarice,  the  lust,  and  the 
fury,  of  the  conquerors.1 

The  languid  and  imprudent  measures  of  the 
Athenians  at  Samos  accuse  the  abilities  of  Ty- 
deus,  Menander,  and  Cephisodotus,  who  had 
been  lately  joined  in  command  with  Conon  and 
his  unworthy  colleagues.  They  sailed  too  late 
to  save  Lampsacus,  but  as  they  possessed  a 
hundred  and  eighty  galleys,  a force  superior  to 
Lysander’s,  they  anchored  on  the  opposite,  or 
European  side  of  the  Hellespont,  at  the  dis- 
tance of  fifteen  furlongs,  in  order  to  provoke 
the  enemy  to  an  engagement.  Their  unfortu 
nate  station  was  the  mouth  of  the  iEgos  Pota- 
mos,  or  river  of  the  goat,  distinguished  by  that 
name  on  account  6f  some  small  islands,  which 
rising  high  above  the  surface  of  the  waters,  ex- 
hibit to  a lively  imagination  the  appearance  of 
that  animal.  This  place  was  injudiciously  cho- 
sen, since  it  afforded  very  insecure  riding  ; and 
was  distant  two  miles  from  Sestos,  the  nearest 
town  from  which  the  fleet  could  be  supplied 
with  necessaries.  Alcibiades,  who  in  his  Thra- 
cian retirement  was  unable  to  withdraw  his 
attention  from  the  war  in  which  he  had  long 
acted  such  a distinguished  part,  modestly  ad- 
monished his  countrymen  of  their  imprudence; 
but  he  was  arrogantly  reproached  for  presum- 
ing, while  an  exile  and  an  outlaw,  to  give  ad- 
vice to  the  admirals  of  Athens.  Their  subse- 
quent conduct  too  faithfully  corresponded  with 
this  insolence  and  folly.  Despising  the  inferi- 
ority of  the  Peloponnesian  fleet,  they  advanced 
in  order  of  battle  to  the  harbour  of  Lampsa- 
cus ; and  when  the  enemy  moved  not  from  their 
station,  they  returned  in  triumph  as  acknow- 
ledged masters  of  the  sea.  The  prudence  of 
Lysander  perceived  and  indulged  their  pre- 
sumption. During  four  days  he  bore,  with  ex- 
traordinary patience,  their  repeated  insults,  af- 
fecting the  utmost  disinclination  to  an  engage- 
ment, carefully  retaining  his  fleet  in  a place  of 
security,  and  regularly  despatching  a few  swift- 
sailing  vessels  to  observe  the  motions  and  be- 
haviour of  the  Athenians  when  they  returned 
from  their  daily  cruise  to  the  road  of  Algos 
Potamos. 


1 Phi(  inJ.ysand 


XXII.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


259 


The  fifth  day  they  again  bore  up 

xciii  4 w^h  the  Peloponnesians,  and  pro- 

a A voked  them  to  battle  with  more  dar- 

A.  C.  40 o.  • ,,  n 

, mg  menaces  than  on  any  former 

December.  ocscasion_  As  they  flatter'd  them. 

selves  with  an  undoubted  prospect  of  success, 
they  yielded  without  reserve  to  all  the  petulance 
of  prosperity,  and  debated  in  what  manner  they 
should  treat  the  Lacedaemonian  prisoners  who 
had  the  misfortune  to  fall  into  their  power. 
The  cruel  Philocles  proposed  to  cut  off  their 
right  hands,  that  those  enemies  of  Athens 
might  be  equally  incapable  to  manage  the  oar 
and  to  brandish  the  spear;  and  this  bloody  re- 
solution, though  opposed  by  Adimantus,  was 
approved  by  the  majority  of  his  colleagues. 
After  insulting  the  enemy  in  a manner  the  most 
mortifying  and  disgraceful,  they  retired  with 
an  air  of  exultation  mingled  wfith  contempt. 
The  Peloponnesian  spy-boats  followed  them  as 
usual*  at  a convenient  distance,  and  observed 
that  they  had  no  sooner  reached  their  stations 
than  the  seamen  landed,  straggled  about  the 
shore,  advanced  into  the  inland  country  in  quest 
of  provisions  or  amusement,  indulged  in  indo- 
lence, or  revelled  in  disorder.  The  advice- 
boats  returned  with  uncommon  celerity  to  con- 
vey the  welcome  intelligence  to  Lysander,  wl  o 
had  embarked  the  troops,  cleared  his  ships,  and 
made  every  necessary  preparation  to  avail  him- 
self of  the  favourable  opportunity  to  effect  by 
stratagem  what  it  might  have  been  dangerous 
to  attempt  by  force.  When  his  scouts  ap- 
proached the  middle  of  the  channel,  they  hoist- 
ed their  shields  (for  that  was  the  appointed 
signal,)  and  at  the  same  moment  the  Pelopon- 
nesian squadrons  were  commanded  to  set  sail, 
that  they  might  surprise  the  hostile  fleet,  and 
indulge  that  resentment  and  animosity  which 
had  been  rendered  more  violent  and  furious  by 
the  long  and  prudent  restraint  of  their  com- 
mander. The  victory  was  complete,  if  that 
can  be  called  a victory  where  there  was  scarcely 
any  resistance.  The  vigilant  activity  of  Conon 
endeavoured  seasonably  to  assemble  the  strength 
of  the  Athenians ; but  his  advice  was  dis- 
dained by  officers  incapable  and  unworthy  of 
command,  and  his  orders  were  despised  by 
seamen  unaccustomed  and  unwilling  to  obey. 
At  length  they  became  sensible  of  the  danger 
when  it  was  too  late  to  avoid  it.  Their  ships 
were  taken,  either  altogether  t mpty,  or  man- 
ned with  such  feeble  crews  as  were  unable  to 
work,  much  less  to  defend  them.  The  troops 
and  sailors  who  flocked  to  the  shore  from  dif- 
ferent quarters,  and  with  disordered  precipita- 
tion, w'ere  attacked  by  the  regular  onset  and 
disciplined  valour  of  the  Peloponnesians.  Those 
who  fought  were  slain  ; the  remainder  fled  into 
the  inmost  recesses  of  the  Chersonesus,  or  took 
refuge  in  the  Athenian  fortresses  which  were 
scattered  over  that  peninsula.  When  Lysan- 
der reviewed  the  extent  of  his  well-merited 
success,  he  found  that  of  a fleet  of  a hundred 
and  eighty  sail,  only  nine  vessels  had  escaped, 
eight  of  which  were  conducted  by  Conon  to 
the  friendly  island  of  Cyprus,  while  the  ninth 
carried  to  Athens  the  melancholy  news  of  a 
disaster  equally  unexpected  and  fatal.  A hun- 
dred and  seventy-one  galleys,  and  throo  thou- 


sand prisoners  (among  whom  were  Philocles 
and  Adimantus,)  rewarded  the  patience  and 
fortitude  of  Lysander,  who  returned  with  his 
invaluable  spoil  Jo  Lampsacus,  amidst  the  joy- 
ous acclamations*  of  naval  triumph.2 

Before  pursuing  the  natural  consequences  of 
an  event  the  most  important  that  had  hitherto 
happened  in  all  the  Grecian  wars,  it  was  ne- 
cessary for  Lysander  to  decide  the  fate  of  the 
Athenian  prisoners,  against  whom  the  confe- 
derates were  animated  by  all  that  unrelenting 
hatred  which  is  congenial  to  the  stern  charac- 
ter of  republicans  exasperated  by  continual 
provocation  and  recent  insult.  The  injustice 
and  cruelty  of  that  ambitious  people  were 
carefully  described  and  maliciously  exaggerated 
in  the  dreadful  tribunal  of  their  enemies.  “It 
would  be  tedious  to  enumerate,  though  it  was 
impossible  ever  to  forget,  their  multiplied  and 
abominable  crimes,  of  which  so  many  indivi- 
duals, and  so  many  communities,  had  been  the 
innocent  and  unhappy  victims.  Even  of  late 
they  had  destroyed  without  remorse,  and  with- 
out the  shadow  of  necessity,  the  helpless  crews 
of  a Corinthian  and  an  Andrian  vessel.  The 
gods  had  averted  the  atrocious  resolution  pro- 
posed by  the  bloody  Philocles,  of  which  the 
author  and  the  approvers  were  equally  crimi- 
nal ; nor  could  those  deserve  pardon  who  were 
incapable  of  pity.”  Such  discourse,  which  re- 
sounded from  every  quarter  of  the  assembly, 
declared,  without  the  necessity  of  a formal 
vote,  the  unanimous  decree  of  the  confederates. 
As  the  prisoners  had  been  strapped  of  their 
arms,  there  was  nothing  to  be  feared  from  their 
numbers  and  despair.  They  were  conducted 
into  the  presence  of  their  armed  judges;  and, 
as  a prelude  to  the  inhuman  massacre,  Lysan- 
der sternly  demanded  of  Philocles  what  he  de- 
served to  suffer  for  his  intended  cruelty.  The 
Athenian  replied  with  firmness,  “ Accuse  not 
those  whom  you  are  entitled  to  judge,  but  in- 
flict on  us  the  same  punishment  which  we,  in  a 
different  fortune,  would  have  inflicted  on  our 
enemies.”  The  words  were  scarcely  ended 
wdien  Lysander  hacked  him  in  pieces.  The 
Peloponnesian  soldiers  followed  the  bloody  ex- 
ample of  their  commander.  Of  three  thousand 
Athenians,  Adimantus  alone  was  spared,  either 
because  he  had  opposed  the  detestable  resolu- 
tion of  Philocles,  or  because  he  had  engaged 
in  a treacherous  correspondence  with  the  Spar- 
tans.3 


2 Xenoph.  p.  456,  et  seq.  et  Plut.  in  Lysand.  By  the 
battle  of  ,/Egos  Polamos  the  Athenians  lost  the  empire  of 
the  sea,  which  they  had  acquired  by  the  consent  of  their 
maritime  allies  in  the  fourth  year  of  the  seventy-fifth  Olym- 
piad. They  enjoyed,  therefore,  that  sovereignty,  or  em- 
pire as  they  styled  it,  from  the  year  477  till  the  year  405  be- 
fore Christ  ; that  is,  a period  of  seventy-two  years.  This 
important  computation  is  not  to  be  found  in  any  ancient 
writer  ; and  no  two  authors  agree  in  calculating  the  dura- 
tion of  the  Athenian  empire.  Lysias  in  his  Funeral  Ora- 
tion, p.  93,  says,  “ During  seventy  years  in  which  the  Athe- 
nians commanded  the  sea.”  Diodorus  Siculus  (ad  Olymp. 
95.  1.)  says,  tho  Athenians  commanded  the  sea  sixty-five 
years.  Isocrates  in  one  place  (i.  p.  174.)  agrees  with  Ly- 
sias; in  another  (ii.  p.  209.)  with  Diodorus.  Andocides 
(Orat.  iii.  p.  286.)  states  it  at  eight  v -five  years.  Lycurgus 
(ndv.  Leoc.  p.  145.)  at  ninety.  Dionysius  Halicarnassus 
(Ant.  Rom.  sub.  init.)  at  sixty-eight.  Demosthenes,  as  we 
shall  Bee  below,  states  it  variously  at  forty-five,  sixty-five, 
and  seventy-three  years. 

3 Xenoph.  Hellen.  Plutarch,  in  Lyeand. 


260 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


It  might'  be  expected,  that  immediately  after 
an  event  which  gave  him  the  command  of  the 
sea,  Lysander  should  sail  to  the  Piraeus,  and 
assault  the  unfortunate  city,  which  was  already 
grievously  oppressed  by  the  Lacedaemonian 
army  at  Decelia.  But  the  sagacious  Spartan 
foresaw  the  numerous  obstacles  that  opposed 
his  conquest  of  Athens,  and  prudently  restrain- 
ed the  eagerness  of  the  troops  and  his  own. 
The  strongly  fortified  harbours  of  that  capital, 
the  long  and  lofty  walls  which  surrounded  the 
city  on  every  side,  the  ancient  renown  and  ac- 
tual despair  of  the  Athenians,  must  render  the 
siege,  if  not  altogether  fruitless,  at  least  diffi- 
cult and  tedious  ; and  the  precious  moments 
wasted  in  this  doubtful  enterprise  might  be 
employed  in  attaining  certain,  immediate  and 
most  important  advantages. 

On  the  coast  neither  of  Greece  nor  of  Asia, 
nor  of  any  of  the  intermediate  islands,  was 
there  a naval  force  capable  of  contending  with 
the  fleet  of  Lysander,  nor  any  fortified  place  in 
, all  those  countries  (except  the  city 

?.mP*  of  Athens  alone)  sufficient  to  re- 
ins  slst  impression  his  army.  It 
‘ * * was  a design,  therefore,  which  might 

well  deserve  his  ambition,  and  which  was  not 
condemned  by  his  prudence,  to  establish  or 
confirm  the  Lacedaemonian  empire  over  those 
valuable  and  extensive  coasts.  The  populous 
cities  of  Byzantium  and  Chalcedon  were  at- 
tacked and  taken  during  the  astonishment  and 
terror  occasioned  by  the  dreadful  and  irrepara- 
ble misfortune. of  their  Athenian  allies.  After 
these  important  acquisitions,  Lysander  sailed 
to  the  island  of  Lesbos,  reduced  Mitylene,  and 
confirmed  the  allegiance  of  Methymna.  While 
he  extended  his  arms  over  the  neighbouring 
islands,  as  well  as  the  maritime  towns  of  Lydia 
and  Caria,  a powerful  squadron,  commanded 
by  the  enterprising  valour  of  Eteonicus.  ra- 
vaged the  shores  of  Macedon,  subdued  the  sea- 
ports of  Thrace,  and  rode  victorious  in  the 
Hellespont  and  Propontis,  the  iEgean  and  Eux- 
ine  seas.  In  six  or  eight  months  after  the  Athe- 
nian disaster  at  jEgos  Potamos,  the  fairest  por- 
tion of  the  ancient  world,  the  most  favoured  by 
nature,  and  the  most  adorned  by  art,  reluc- 
tantly submitted  to  the  power,  or  voluntarily 
accepted  the  alliance  of  Sparta. 

During  this  long  series  of  triumphs,  Lysander 
never  lost  sight  of  the  reduction  of  Athens ; an 
object  important  in  itself,  and  necessary  to  the 
completion  of  his  extensive  plan.  The  vigilance 
of  the  Peloponnesian  squadrons  prevented  the 
usual  supplies  of  foreign  grain  from  reaching  the 
distressed  city.  In  all  the  towns  which  surren- 
dered, or  which  were  taken  by  storm,  the  Athe- 
nian garrisons  were  saved  from  immediate 
death,  only  on  condition  that  they  returned  to 
their  native  country.  By  such  contrivances  the 
crafty  Spartan  expected  that  the  scarcity  of  pro- 
visions would  soon  compel  the  growing  multi- 
tude of  inhabitants  to  submit  to  the  Lacedae- 
monian army  at  Decelia.  But  the  Athenians, 
who  despised  the  assaults  of  the  enemy,  braved 
the  hardships  of  famine.  Even  after  Lysander 
had  blocked  up  their  harbours  with  a hundred 
and  fifty  sail,  they  still  defended,  with  vigour, 
their  walls  and  ramparts;  patiently  endured 


[Chap. 

fatigue  and  hunger ; and  beheld  with  obstinate 
unconcern,  the  affliction  of  their  wives  and 
children.  Amidst  the  ravages  of  death  and 
disease,  which  advanced  with  increasing  horror, 
they  punished,  with  the  utmost  severity,  the  ig- 
noble cowardice  of  Archestratus,w’ho  first  men- 
tioned capitulation,  and  declared  that  the  same 
moment  should  put  an  end  to  their  independence 
and  their  lives. 

But  notwithstanding  the  melancholy  firmness 
q,  of  the  popular  assembly,  a numer- 

xclv  1 ous  an<^  Power^  Party  in  the  state 
A C 404  Was  Soverned  rather  by  interest 
than  by  honour ; and  the  greatest 
enemies  of  Athenian  liberty  flourished  in  the 
bosom  of  the  republic.  The  aristocratical  leaven 
of  the  four  hundred  had  infected  the  whole 
body  of  the  senate ; and  not  only  the  inconstant 
Theramenes,  but  several  other  men  of  abilities 
and  influence,  who  had  been  most  active  in 
subverting  that  cruel  tyranny,  regretted  the 
restoration  of  democracy  to  a people,  who  (as 
they  had  recently  proved  in  many  parts  of  their 
conduct)  were  unable  to  enjoy,  without  abusing, 
the  invaluable  gift  of  freedom.  In  republican 
governments,  the  misfortunes  which  ought  to 
bind  all  ranks  of  men  in  the  firmest  and  most 
ir  dissoluble  union,  have  often  little  other  ten- 
dency than  to  exasperate  the  political  factions 
which  tear  and  distract  the  community.  Amidst 
every  form  of  public  distress,  the  Athenians 
caballed,  clamoured,  accused  and  persecuted 
each  other  ; and  the  faction  of  the  nobles,  who 
acted  with  superior  concert,  vigour,  and  address, 
destroyed,  by  dark  insinuations,  false  witnesses, 
perjury,  and  every  other  species  of  legal  fraud 
and  cruelty,  the  seditious  Cleophon,  and  other 
turbulent  demagogues,  who  might  most  effectu- 
ally have  opposed  their  measures.1' 

When  these  obstacles  were  removed,  Thera- 
menes (whose  recent  merit  prevented  the  suspi- 
cion of  the  assembly)  proposed  an  embassy  to 
Lacedaemon,  which  should  request  a suspension 
of  hostilities,  and  obtain,  if  possible,  some  mo- 
derate terms  of  accommodation.  He  named 
himself,  with  nine  colleagues,  as  the  persons 
best  qualified  to  undertake  this  important  com- 
mission ; flattering  the  people  in  the  clearest  and 
least  ambiguous  terms,  with  an  undoubted  pros- 
pect of  success.  A decree  wTas  immediately 
passed,  investing  the  ambassadors  with  full 
powers.  They  assumed  the  sacred  badge  of  their 
inviolable  character,  reached  in  safety  the  Spar- 
tan camp,  held  a conference  with  king  Agis, 
and  afterwards  repaired  to  the  Lacedaemonian 
capital.  During  four  months  they  carried  on 
their  pretended  negotiation  with  the  senate,  the 
kings,  the  ephori,  and  especially. with  Lysander, 
whose  authority,  being  unknown  to  the  ancient 
constitution  of  Sparta,  was  far  more  extensive 
than  that  of  all  the  other  magistrates  together. 
With  him,  principally,  the  plan  was  concerted 
for  compelling  the  Athenians  to  submit  to  terms 
of  peace,  which  they  must  have  regarded  as 
worse,  not  only  than  war,  but  death.2  The 
fortifications  of  their  harbours  were  to  be  demo- 
lished, as  well  as  the  long  walls  which  joined 

1 Ijysias,  p.  272. 

2 Lysias  against  Eratosthenes,  p.  273 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


261 


XXII.] 

them  with  the  city : they  were  to  surrender  all 
their  ships,  but  twelve ; to  resign  every  preten- 
sion to  their  ancient  possessions  in  foreign 
parts ; to  recall  from  banishment  the  surviving 
members  of  the  late  tyrannical  aristocracy  ; to 
follow  the  standard  of  Sparta  in  war  ; and,  in 
peace,  to  mould  their  political  constitution  after 
the  model  which  that  victorious  republic  might 
think  fit  to  prescribe. 

When  Theramenes  produced  these  unexpect- 
ed fruits  of  his  boasted  negotiation,  the  Athe- 
nians had  no  longer  either  strength  or  spirit  to 
resist,  or  even  courage  to  die.  During  the  long 
absence  of  their  ambassadors,  the  siege  had  been 
carried  on  with  redoubled  vigour.  The  Lace- 
daemonians, reinforced  by  the  Thebans  as  well 
as  by  their  numerous  allies  of  Peloponnesus, 
had  invested  the  city  on  every  side,  the  harbours 
were  closely  blocked  up  by  Lysander,  who  had 
become  master  of  Melos,  Ceos,  JEgina,  and  Sa- 
lamis ; islands  so  near  to  Athens  that  they  were 
almost  regarded  as  a part  of  the  Attic  territory. 
The  greatest  misery  prevailed  within  the  walls; 
the  famine  was  intolerable,  and  the  diseases 
more  intolerable  than  the  famine.  The  full 
period  of  thrice  nine  years  had  elapsed,  which, 
if  we  may  credit  a most  accurate  and  faithful 
historian,3  had  been  assigned  by  repeated  oracles 
and  predictions,  as  the  destined  term  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war  and  of  the  Athenian  great- 
ness. The  principal  leaders  of  the  democracy 
had  been  cut  off  by  the  perfidious  snares  of  their 
opponents,  who  were  prepared  to  bear  a foreign 
yoke,  provided  they  might  usurp  domestic  ty- 
ranny. That  odious  faction  was  ready  to 
approve  the  measures  of  Theramenes,  who 
might  intimidate  the  dejected  assembly  by  de- 
claring (a  most  melancholy  truth)  that  the  se- 
verity of  the  Lacedaemonians,  excessive  as  it 
seemed,  was  yet  moderation  and  lenity  when 
compared  with  the  furious  and  unextinguishable 
rage  of  the  Thebans  and  Corinthians,  who 
maintained  that  the  Athenians  deserved  not  any 
terms  of  accommodation ; that  their  crimes 
ought  to  be  persecuted  with  unrelenting  ven- 
geance ; their  proud  city  demolished  with  such 
perfect  destruction,  that  not  even  its  vestige 
should  remain ; and  the  insolent  inhabitants 


3 The  words  of  Thucydides,  1.  v.  p.  362.  are  very  re- 
markable. “ He  remembers,  that  from  the  first  commence- 
ment of  hostilities,  it  had  been  constantly  prophesied  that 
the  war  would  last  ihrice  nine  years;  which,  of  all  predic- 
tions, was  alone  firm  and  stable;”  or  as  the  idiom  of  the 
Greek  language  will  bear  “ the  most  firm  and  stable.” 


utterly  extirpated  from  Greece,  which  they  had 
so  long  disturbed  by  their  ambition,  and  pro- 
voked by  their  tyranny  and  cruelty.  Such  an 
argument  Theramenes  might  have  employed,  if 
it  had  been  necessary  to  employ  any  argument, 
to  justify  his  negotiation  with  the  Spartans, 
which  was  confirmed  and  ratified  by  the  voice 
of  the  aristocratical  cabal,  and  submitted  to, 
rather  than  accepted,  by  the  majority  of  the 
assembly,  with  the  gloomy  silence  of  despair. 
q.  On  the  sixteenth  of  May,  the 

xcrv  1 day  on  which  Athenians  had 
A C 404  keen  accustomed  to  celebrate  the 
anniversary  of  the  immortal  victory 
of  Salamis,  the  hostile  armament  took  possession 
of  their  harbours  ; the  combined  army  entered 
their  gates.  The  walls  and  fortresses  of  the 
city  of  Minerva,  which  the  generous  magnani- 
mity of  its  inhabitants,  preferring  the  public 
safety  to  their  own,  had  abandoned  in  defence 
of  Greece  to  the  fury  of  a barbarian  invader, 
were  ungratefully  levelled  to  the  ground  by  the 
implacable  resentment  of  the  Greeks  ; who  exe- 
cuted their  destructive  purpose  with  all  the 
eagerness  of  emulation,  boasting,  amidst  the 
triumphs  of  martial  music,  that  the  demolition 
of  Athens  would  be  regarded,  in  succeeding 
ages,  as  the  true  era  of  Grecian  freedom.  Yet 
after  they  had  satisfied  their  vengeance,  they 
seemed  to  regret  its  effects.  The  day  was  con- 
cluded with  a magnificent  festival,  in  which  the 
recitation  of  the  poets  formed  as  usual,  the  prin- 
cipal ornament  of  the  entertainment.  Among 
other  pieces  was  rehearsed  the  Electra  of  Euri- 
pides, and  particularly  that  affecting  chorus, 
“ We  come,  O daughter  of  Agamemnon  ! to 
thy  rustic  and  humble  roof.”  The  words  were 
scarcely  uttered,  when  the  whole  assembly  melt- 
ed into  tears,  the  forlorn  condition  of  that  young 
and  virtuous  princess,  expelled  the  royal  palace 
of  her  father,  and  inhabiting  a miserable  cot- 
tage, in  want  and  wretchedness,  recalling  the 
dreadful  vicissitudes  of  fortune  which  had  be- 
fallen Athens,  once  mistress  of  the  sea,  and  so- 
vereign of  Greece,  but  deprived,  in  one  fatal 
hour,  of  her  ships,  her  walls,  and  her  strength, 
and  reduced  from  the  pride  of  power  and  pros- 
perity, to  misery,  dependence,  and  servitude, 
without  exerting  one  memorable  effort  to 
brighten  the  last  moment  of  her  destiny,  and  to 
render  her  fall  illustrious.4 


4 Xenoph.  Heilen.  1.  ii.  c.  i.  et  seq.  Diodor.  1.  xiii.  104 — 
107.  Plut.  in  Lysand.  p.  438.  Lysias  inEratosth.  et  AgoraL 


262 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Rapacity  and  Cruelty  of  the  Spartan  Government — The  Thirty  Tyrants  in  Athens — Persecution 
of  Lysias  and  his  Family — Theramenes  opposes  the  Tyrants — Sanguinary  Speech  of  Crilias — 
Death  of  Theramenes — Persecution  and  death  of  Alcibiades — Thrasybulus  seizes  Phyle — De- 
feats the  Tyrants — Memorable  Speech  of  Thrasybulus — Oath  of  Amnesty — Mot  faithfully  ob- 
served. 


rjPHE  conquest  of  Athens,  and  the  acknow- 
ledged dominion  of  Sparta,  terminated  the 
memorable  war  of  twenty-seven  years.  It  still 
remained  for  Lysander  to  reduce  the  island  of 
Samos,1  which  enjoys  the  honourable  distinc- 
tion of  being  the  last  settlement  in  the  East  that 
defied  the  ambition  of  Pericles,  and  the  last 
which  submitted  to  the  arms  of  Lysander.  The 
conquered  islands  and  cities  suffered  still  greater 
vexations  under  the  Spartan,  than  they  had 
done  under  the  Athenian  empire.  Among  the 
hostile  factions2  which  ambition  or  danger  had 
formed  in  those  turbulent  republics,  Lysander 
always  preferred  that  party  which  possessed 
most  craft  and  least  patriotism.  At  the  head 
of  this  cabal  he  placed  a Spartan  Harmostes, 
or  governor,  on  whose  obsequious  cruelty  he 
could  depend.  The  citidels  were  garrisoned  by 
mercenaries ; a tyrannical  faction  insulted  as 
subjects,  those  whom  they  had  envied  as  rivals, 
or  dreaded  as  enemies ; and  every  species  of 
license  and  disorder  was  exercised,  with  a pre- 
sumption that  could  be  equalled  only  by  the 
tameness  with  which  it  was  endured.3  The 
Asiatic  Greeks  regretted  the  dishonourable  yoke 
of  Persia;  they  regretted  the  stern  dominion  of 
Athens ; both  of  which  seemed  tolerable  evils, 
compared  to  the  oppressive  cruelty  of  Sparta 
and  Lysander.  The  contributions  of  which 
they  had  formerly  so  much  complained,  no 
longer  appeared  exorbitant.  Lysander  was  the 
first  and  the  last  conqueror  who  imposed  on 
those  feeble  communities  the  enormous  tribute 
of  a thousand  talents.4 

The  unrelenting  severity  of  Sparta  has  usu- 
ally 1 ien  ascribed  to  the  personal  character  of 
her  general,  whose  natural  arrogance  and  cru- 
elty were  heightened  and  confirmed  by  the  sud- 


1  Comp.  Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  ii.  p.  461.  et  Plut.  iii.  p.  31. 
in  Lysand.  Lysias  adv.  Eratosth.  p.  274.  et  Diodor.  p.  396. 
It  is  remarkable  that  Xenophon  and  Lysias,  both  contem- 
poraries, should  differ  in  a matter  of  chronology ; the  one 
placing  the  conquest  of  Samos  before,  and  the  other  after, 
Lysander’s  voyage  to  Athens. 

2 These  were  the  a-wui/two-ixi  cm  Sixxtf  xxi  «?%*«?, 
mentioned  by  Thucydides  and  Xenophon  : “ associations,  or 
rather  conspiracies,  for  mutual  defence  in  courts  of  justice, 
and  for  mutual  assistance  in  obtaining  offices  of  power.” 

3 Instead  of  the  sweet  draught  of  Liberty,  Sparta,  ac- 
cording to  Theopompus,  gave  Greece  the  bitter  cup  of 
Slavery.  In  the  city  of  Miletus,  he  sacrificed  at  once  eight 
hundred  men,  of  the  democratical  faction,  to  the  implacable 
r:ige  of  their  adversaries.  Plut.  in  Lysand. 

4 Diodorus,  p.  400.  says,  7rKu u>  tw v %ia.i<ov  tx\xvtoiv 
x*5’  £v«ooruv,  “ more  than  a thousand  talents  yearly  that 
is,  above  two  hundred  thousand  pounds.  It  may  be  com- 
puted from  Plut.  in  Lysand.  et  Xenoph.  p.  462.  that  Ly- 
sander sent  home  a still  larger  sum  after  the  surrender  of 
Samos.  The  law  of  Lycurgus  respecting  gold  and  silver, 
which  had  been  long  virtually,  was  now  formally,  abolished. 
The  use  of  the  precious  metals  was  allowed  to  the  state, 
but  forbidden  to  individuals,  under  pain  of  death.  The  pro- 

hibition, however,  was  universally  disregarded  ; many  Spar- 
tans possessed  abundance  of  gold  and  silver;  none  incurred 

the  penalty  of  the  law.  Compar.  Plat,  et  Xenoph.  loc. 

eitat.  et  Isocrat.  in  Arcbidam. 


den  exaltation  of  his  fortune.  From  the  simple 
citizen  of  a small,  and  then  unfortunate  repub- 
lic, he  became,  in  a few  years,  the  arbiter  of 
Greece.  Athens  acknowledged  his  authority ; 
the  smaller  cities  courted  his  protection  ; venal 
poets  and  orators  extolled  him  with  odes  and 
panegyrics;  he  was  honoured  with  crowns  and 
statues,  and  worshipped  by  hymns  and  sacri- 
fices.5 Yet  it  is  obvious  to  remark,  that  what 
ever  might  be  the  temper  and  manners  of  Ly- 
sander, his  country  is  justly  accountable  for  the 
wrongs  which  he  was  allowed  to  commit  with 
impunity  ; and  it  is  uncertain  whether  another 
general,  placed  in  the  same  situation,  would 
have  acted  on  different  principles ; since  the 
nature  of  the  Spartan  institutions,  and  the  am- 
bitious views  of  the  republic,  seemed  to  demand 
and  justify  uncommon  exertions  of  severity. 
In  the  administration  of  their  domestic  govern- 
ment, five  or  six  thousand  Spartans  tyrannised 
over  thirty  thousand  Lacedaemonians ; these 
tyrannised,  with  still  greater  rigour,  over  thrice 
that  number  of  slaves;  and  it  was  natural  to 
expect,  that  when  the  slaves  were  associated 
with  the  troops,6  all  these  descriptions  of  men, 
Spartans,  Lacedaemonians  and  Helots,  would 
tyrannise,  with  the  emulation  of  cruelty,  over 
their  conquered  subjects. 

The  scanty  materials  of  ancient  history  can- 
not enable  us  minutely  to  explain  the  humilia- 
tion and  distress  of  the  Asiatic  Greeks,  op- 
pressed by  the  double  tyranny  of  the  Spartans, 
and  of  their  fellow  citizens.  Contemporary 
writers,  who  beheld  this  scene  of  misery  and 
desolation,  seem  at  a loss  for  words  to  impress 
its  horror.  Isocrates  endeavours  to  grasp  the 
amplitude  of  the  subject  in  the  vague  language 
of  general  description  ; by  strokes  of  exagge- 
ration and  hyperbole,  he  supplies  the  place  of 
clear  and  positive  information  ; but  all  the  co- 
piousness and  energy  of  the  Greek  tongue  sink 
beneath  the  heavy  afflictions  of  that  unfortu- 
nate people  ; and  the  mind  of  the  orator  seems 
to  labour  with  a thought  which  he  is  unable  to 
express.7  It. is  not,  however,  from  such  rheto- 


5 Plut.  in  Lysand. 

6 The  Helots  then  took  the  title  of  vtoSxuxSet;,  Liber- 
tini,  Suvxtxi  Ss  to  veoSx/xto St;  t\evS« pov  ei'j)  ctvxi.  Thu- 
cydid.  1.  v.  p.  533.  From  some  passages  in  Isocrates 
(Panegyr.  et  de  Pace.,)  it  should  seem  that  Lysander  often 
appointed  these  freed  men  to  offices  of  great  trust  and  au 
thority. 

7 See  the  oration  of  Isocrates  on  the  peace,  p.  171,  &r. 
In  the  panegyric  of  Athens,  speaking  of  the  aristocratical 
factions  supported  by  Lysander  and  the  Lacedtemonians, 
Isocrates  says,  they  consisted  of  wretches,  “ w’hose  cruelty 
and  injustice  are  unexampled  in  the  history  of  mankind. 
From  what  indignity  did  they  abstain  7 Into  what  excesses 
were  they  not  transported  ? They,  who  regarded  the  most 
factious  as  the  most  faithful ; the  most  treacherous  as  the 
most  deserving.  Their  crimes  proved  infectious,  and 
changed  the  mildness  of  human  nature  into  savage  ferocity,” 
See.  Sec  p.  52,  &.c. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


263 


XXIII.] 

rical  descriptions  that  we  can  attain  an  adequate 
and  satisfactory  knowledge  of  the  Spartan  ad- 
ministration : history  delights  in  plain  and  au- 
thentic facts;  and  the  rigorous  treatment  of 
the  Athenians  themselves,  will  best  represent 
the  hardships  inflicted  on  their  Asiatic  colonies 
and  dependencies. 

The  Athenians  had  surrendered  their  fleet ; 

their  walls  and  harbours  were  de- 
xc^m^‘  molished ; their  citadel  was  occu- 
A C 404  P*e<^  ^ a Laced®monian  garrison, 
commanded  by  Callibius,  the  friend 
of  Lysander;  and  their  government  was  usurp- 
ed by  thirty  men,  the  dependents  and  creatures 
of  Sparta.  The  furious  and  profligate  Critias 
formed  a proper  head  for  this  aristocratical 
council,  whose  members  have  been  justly  brand- 
ed in  history  under  the  name  of  the  Thirty 
Tyrants.8 9 10  On  pretence  of  delivering  the  state 
from  the  malice  of  informers,  and  the  turbu- 
lence of  seditious  demagogues,  they  destroyed 
the  most  valuable  portion  of  the  community.9 
Nieeratus,  the  son  of  Nicias,  and  a son  who 
inherited  not  only  the  opulence,  but  the  virtues 
of  his  illustrious  father,  was  condemned  to 
death  ; Leon,  the  most  public-spirited,  and  An- 
tiphon, the  most  eloquent  of  his  contempora- 
ries, shared  the  same  fate  ; Thrasybulus  and 
Anytus  were  banished.  Whoever  was  known 
to  be  powerful,  was  regarded  as  dangerous ; 
whoever  was  supposed  to  be  rich,  was  accused 
as  criminal.  Strangers  and  citizens  were  in- 
volved in  one  promiscuous  ruin.19 

Amidst  this  general  wreck  of  whatever  was 
most  worthy  and  respectable,  I shall  select  the 
persecution  of  Lysias  and  his  family,  the  only 
transaction  of  that  kind,  recorded  with  such 
circumstances  as  answer  the  ends  of  history. 
Cephalus,  the  father  of  that  ingenious  orator, 
was  by  birth  a Syracusan.  The  friendship  of 
Pericles  persuaded  him  to  settle  in  Athens, 
where,  under  the  protection  of  that  powerful 
statesman,  he  obtained  wealth  and  honours. 
His  inoffensive  and  generous  character  escaped 
the  enmity  and  persecution  to  which  the  opu- 
lent Athenians  were  comrqonly  exposed  ; and 
he  enjoyed  the  rare  felicity  of  living  thirty 
years  in  the  midst  of  continual  trials  and  im- 
peachments, without  being  obliged  to  appear  as 
plaintiff*  or  defendant  in  any  litigation.  His 
sons,  Lysias  and  Polemarchus,  inherited  his  in- 
nocence, his  generosity,  and  his  good  fortune. 
Though  possessed  of  the  most  valuable  accom- 
plishments, natural  and  acquired,  the  brothers 
prudently  kept  aloof  from  the  dangerous  paths 
of  public  life ; contented  with  their  domestic 
felicity,  they  aspired  not  to  the  rank  of  Athe- 
nian citizens;  but  liberally  contributed  to  sup- 
ply the  exigencies  of  the  state,  from  the  profits 
of  a flourishing  manufacture  of  shields,  which 


8 Their  names  are  preserved  in  Xenophon,  Hellen. 
ii.  3. 

9 Xenoph.  p.  402.  which  Cmsar,  ap.  Sallust,  de  Bello 
Cat'll,  c.  51.  evidently  had  in  view,  “ Lacedmmohii  devictis 
Athenicn-ubus,  triginta  viros  imposuere. . . . Hi  primo  cce- 
pero  pessimum  quemque,  et  omnibus  invisum,  indemnntum 
necare.  Eo  populus  laetari,  et  merito  dicere  fieri.  Post 
ubi  paullatim  licentia  crevit  juxta  bonos  etmalos  libidinose 
interficere. . . . Ita  civitas,  servitute  oppressa  stultiu  lietitioe 
graves  pcenas  dedit.” 

10  Xenoph.  1.  ii.  p.  403,  et  fcbq.  1 


they  carried  on  by  the  labour  of  a hundred  and 
twenty  slaves.  The  cruelty  of  the  thirty  ty- 
rants, from  whose  rapacious  eye  neither  obscu- 
rity could  conceal,  nor  merit  defend,  occasioned 
the  death  of  Polemarchus,  and  the  immediate 
misfortunes,  as  well  as  the  future  glory  of  Ly- 
sias, who  acted  a distinguished  part  in  over- 
turning that  detestable  tyranny,  and  in  bring- 
ing its  authors  and  abettors  to  condign  punish- 
ment.11 

The  history  is  related  by  himself  with  per- 
spicuous precision  and  graceful  simplicity : 
“ The  tyrants  Theognis  and  Piso  acquainted 
their  associates,  that  many  strangers  established 
at  Athens  were  disaffected  to  the  government. 
This  was  a plausible  pretence  for  rifling  the 
effects  of  these  unhappy  men ; a measure  to 
which  the  thirty  were  not  only  excited  by  ava- 
rice, but  prompted  by  fear.  Money  was  be- 
come necessary  for  the  preservation  of  their 
power,  which,  being  founded  on  usurpation, 
and  tyrannically  administered,  could  only  be 
maintained  by  the  influence  of  corruption,  and 
the  mercenary  aid  of  foreign  troops.  The  life 
of  man,  therefore,  they  regarded  as  a matter 
of  little  moment ; the  amassing  of  wealth  was 
the  principal  object  of  their  desire ; to  gratify 
which,  ten  strangers  were  at  once  devoted  to 
destruction.  In  this  number,  indeed,  were  two 
poor  men  ; a base  and  cruel  artifice  to  persuade 
you,  Athenians,  that  the  remaining  eight  had 
been  condemned,  not  for  the  sake  of  their  riches, 
but  in  order  to  preserve  the  public  tranquillity ; 
as  if  the  interest  of  the  public  had  ever  been 
the  concern  of  that  tyrannical  cabal ! Their  in- 
famous design  was  executed  with  inhuman 
cruelty.  Their  victims  were  taken  in  their 
beds,  at  supper,  in  the  privacy  of  domestic  re- 
tirement. Me  they  seized  exercising  the  rites 
of  hospitality ; my  guests  were  rudely  dis- 
missed ; I was  delivered  into  the  custody  of  the 
worthless  Piso.  While  his  accomplices  con- 
tinued in  the  workshop,  taking  a list  of  our 
slaves  and  effects,  I asked  him,  ‘Whether  mo- 
ney could  save  my  life  ?’  ‘ Yes,  a considerable 
sum.’  ‘I  will  give  you  a talent  of  silver.’  This 
he  consented  to  accept,  as  the  price  of  my  safe- 
ty ; and  to  such  a melancholy  situation  was  1 
reduced,  that  it  afforded  me  a momentary  con- 
solation to  depend  on  the  precarious  faith  of  a 
man,  who  (as  I well  knew)  despised  every  law, 
human  and  divine.  But  my  comfort  was  of 
short  duration  ; for  I had  no  sooner  opened  my 
coffer  to  pay  him  the  talent,  than  he  ordered 
his  attendant  to  seize  the  contents,  consisting 
of  three  talents  of  silver,  a hundred  Daricks, 
three  hundred  Cyzicenes,  and  three  silver  cups. 
I entreated  Piso  to  allow  me  a small  sum  to  de- 
fray the  expense  of  my  journey.  But  he  de- 
sired me  to  be  thankful  to  escape  with  my  life. 
Going  out  together,  we  met  the  tyrants  Melo- 
bius  and  Mnesitheides,  returning  from  the 
workshop.  They  inquired,  where  we  were 
going?  Piso  answered,  to  examine  the  house 
of  my  brother  Polemarchus.  They  desired  him 
to  proceed  ; but  commanded  me  to  follow  them 
to  the  house  of  Damasippus.  Piso  whispered 


11  Sec  the  Life  of  Lysias,  and  the  Orations  there  refer 
red  lo,  p.  110,  et  soq. 


264 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


me  to  be  silent,  and  to  fear  nothing,  because  he 
would  immediately  come  there.  Upon  our  ar- 
rival, we  found  Theognis  guarding  several  of 
my  companions  in  calamity.  I increased  the 
number  of  his  prisoners  ; but  obtained  an  op- 
portunity to  represent  my  innocence  and  mis- 
fortunes to  Damasippus,  entreating  him,  by  our 
past  friendship,  to  employ  his  influence  in  my 
behalf.  He  assured  me  of  his  intention  to  in- 
tercede with  Theognis,  whose  avarice  would 
easily  persuade  him  to  betray  his  trust.  While 
they  conversed  on  this  subject,  I took  advan- 
tage of  my  knowledge  of  the  house  to  escape 
through  three  secret  passages,  which  all  hap- 
pened to  be  open  and  unguarded ; and  fortu- 
nately reaching  the  country-house  of  my  friend 
Archimaus,  a ship-master,  sent  him  to  the  city, 
that  he  might  bring  me  intelligence  of  my  bro- 
ther. He  discovered,  that  the  tyrant  Eratos- 
thenes had  dragged  him  from  the  road,  and 
conducted  him  to  prison,  where  he  was  ordered 
to  drink  hemlock.  At  this  melancholy  news,  I 
sailed  to  Megara,  under  cover  of  the  night.  Our 
effects  became  the  property  of  the  tyrants,  whose 
mean  avarice  spared  not  the  smallest  trifle  be- 
longing to  us.  Even  the  gold  ear-rings  of  Po- 
lemarchus’s  wife  were  forcibly  torn  away  by 
the  brutal  Melobius.”1 

The  Thirty  justified  these  abominable  acts 
of  cruelty  by  the  authority  of  a servile  senate, 
which  they  still  allowed  to  subsist  as  the  instru- 
ment and  accomplice  of  their  tyranny.  It  could 
not  be  expected,  however,  that  in  a city  accus- 
tomed to  the  utmost  liberty  of  opinion  and  free- 
dom of  debate,  a body  of  five  hundred,  or  even 
of  thirty  men,  should  continue  to  agree  in  the 
same  odious  and  oppressive  measures.  The 
first  seeds  of  discord,  or  rather  the  first  symp- 
toms of  repentance,  appeared  in  the  speeches 
and  behaviour  of  the  bold  and  active  Thera- 
menes ; who,  though  the  principal  author  of 
the  usurpation,  was  already  disposed  by  the 
humanity  of  his  nature,  or  by  the  singular  in- 
constancy of  his  temper,2  to  destroy  the  work 
of  his  own  hands.  His  strenuous  endeavours 
were  used  to  save  the  innocent  and  unhappy 
victims  whom  his  furious  colleagues  daily  de- 
voted to  destruction  ; under  his  protection  the 
citizens  assembled,  and  expressed  their  resent- 
ment or  despair;  and  it  was  justly  apprehended 
that  the  government  of  the  Thirty  might  be 
dissolved  by  the  same  means,  and  by  the  same 
man,  who  had  set  on  foot  and  subverted  the 
short-lived  tyranny  of  the  four  hundred.  The 
present  usurpation,  indeed,  was  defended  by  a 
Lacedaemonian  garrison ; but  the  Thirty  dread- 
ed the  influence  of  Theramenes  over  the  fo- 
reign troops  ; they  dreaded  still  more  his  influ- 
ence over  the  Athenian  citizens.  When  they 
considered  the  precarious  tenure  of  their  au- 
thority, and  the  unjust  violence  of  their  admi- 
nistration, they  reflected  on  the  past  with  pain, 
and  viewed  the  future  with  terror.  But  they 
had  gone  too  far  to  retreat,  and  nothing  re- 


1 See  the  discourses  of  Lysias  against  Agoratus  and 
Eratosthenes,  p.  258,  et  seq. 

2 Thucydid.  viii.  68,  et  seq.  Lysias  advers.  Eratosth. 
Xenophon  paints  him  more  favourably ; and  Aristot.  apud 
Plut.  iii.  337.  et  Diodor.  p.  350,  et  seq.  still  more  favoura- 
bly than  Xenophon. 


[Chap. 

mained  but  to  prop  the  tottering  fabric  of  their 
power  by  enlarging  its  base.  Three  thousand 
citizens  were  invited  to  participate  in  the  ad- 
vantages and  dangers  of  their  government. 
The  rest  were  disarmed  and  treated  with  an  in- 
crease of  severity. 

Theramenes  vainly  opposed  the  criminal  de- 
signs of  his  colleagues,  who  implicitly  submitted 
their  opinions  to  the  implacable  fury  of  Critias. 
He  it  was  who  chiefly  encouraged  them  boldly, 
to  persevere,  and  to  remove  every  obstacle  to 
the  unlimited  gratification  of  their  passions. 
The  safety  of  Theramenes,  he  assured  them, 
was  no  longer  compatible  with  their  own.  His 
delicacy,  real  or  affected,  was  totally  inconsis- 
tent with  the  spirit  of  the  present  administra- 
tion ; nor  could  the  government  of  Thirty,  any 
more  than  that  of  one  tyrant,  admit  of  being 
curiously  canvassed,  or  fastidiously  opposed. 
These  sentiments  being  received  with  approba- 
tion, we  might  expect  that  Theramenes  should 
have  been  destroyed  by  that  sudden  and  open 
violence  which'  had  proved  fatal  to  so  many 
others.  But  as  the  most  daring  violators  of  the 
laws  of  society  are  obliged  to  establish  and  ob- 
serve some  rules  of  justice,  in  their  conduct  to- 
wards each  other,  it  had  been  resolved  by  the 
Thirty,  that,  amidst  the  violent  and  capricious 
outrages  which  they  committed  against  their 
subjects,  none  of  their  own  number  should  be 
put  to  death  without  the  benefit  of  a trial  before 
the  senate  ; a privilege  extending  to  the  three 
thousand  entrusted  with  the  use  of  arms,  and 
sufficiently  denoting  the  miserable  condition  of 
the  other  citizens.  The  senate  was  assembled 
to  try  Theramenes;  but  this  tribunal  was  sur- 
rounded by  armed  men.  When  the  pretended 
criminal  appeared,  Critias  addressed  the  court 
in  a speech  too  remarkable  ever  to  be  forgot- 
ten. 

“ Should  you  imagine,  O senators  ! consider- 
ing the  great  numbers  who  have  suffered  death, 
that  we  have  been  guilty  of  unnecessary  cruelty, 
you  will  alter  that  opinion  on  reflecting  that 
revolutions  of  government  must  always  be  at- 
tended with  bloodshed ; but  particularly  when 
a populous  city  like  Athens,  which  has  been 
long  pampered  with  liberty,  is  reduced  under 
the  dominion  of  a few.  The  actual  form  of  ad- 
ministration was  imposed  by  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians as  the  condition  of  the  public  safety.  In 
order  to  maintain  its  authority  we  have  remov- 
ed those  seditious  demagogues,  whose  demo- 
cratical  madness  hath  occasioned  all  our  past 
calamities.  It  is  our  duty  to  proceed  in  this 
useful  work,  and  to  destroy,  without  fear  or 
compassion,  all  who  would  disturb  the  public 
tranquillity.  Should  a man  of  this  dangerous 
disposition  be  found  in  our  own  order,  he 
ought  to  be  punished  with  double  rigour,  and 
treated  not  only  as  an  enemy,  but  as  a traitor. 
That  Theramenes  is  liable  to  this  accusation  ap- 
pears from  the  whole  tenor  of  his  conduct. 
He  concluded  the  treaty  with  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians; he  dissolved  the  popular  government; 
he  directed  and  approved  the  first  and  boldest 
measures  of  our  administration : but  no  sooner 
did  difficulties  arise  than  he  deserted  his  asso- 
ciates, declared  his  opposition  to  their  designs, 
and  undertook  the  protection  of  the  populace. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


265 


XXIII.] 

When  the  weather  was  fair  and  favourable,  he 
pursued  the  same  course  with  his  companions, 
but  on  the  first  change  of  wind,  he  thought 
proper  to  alter  his  navigation.  With  such  an 
irresolute  steersman  it  is  impossible  to  govern 
the  helm  of  the  republic,  and  to  guide  the  ves- 
sel to  her  destined  harbour.  This  dangerous 
inconsistency  ought,  indeed,  to  have  been  ex- 
pected from  a man  to  whose  character  perfidy 
is  congenial.  He  began  his  political  career  un- 
der the  direction  of  his  father  Hagnon,  a vio- 
lent partisan  of  democracy.  He  afterwards 
changed  his  system,  in  order  to  obtain  the  fa- 
vour of  the  nobles.  He  both  established  and 
dissolved  the  government  of  the  four  hundred ; 
and  the  whole  strain  of  his  behaviour  proves 
him  unfit  to  govern,  and  unworthy  to  live.”3 

Theramenes  made  a copious  and  persuasive 
defence,  acknowledging,  “ That  he  had  often 
changed  his  conduct,  but  denying  that  he  had 
ever  varied  his  principles.  When  the  demo- 
cracy flourished,  he  had  maintained  the  just 
rights,  but  repressed  the  insolence,  of  the  peo- 
ple. When  it  became  necessary  to  alter  the 
form  of  the  republic,  in  compliance  with  the 
command  of  the  Spartans,  he  had  supported 
the  legal  power,  but  opposed  the  tyranny,  of 
the  magistrates.  Under  every  administration  of 
government  he  had  approved  himself  the  friend 
of  moderation  and  justice,  which  he  still  con- 
tinued, and  ever  would  continue,  to  recommend 
and  enforce,  convinced  that  those  virtues  alone 
could  give  stability  and  permanence  to  any  sys- 
tem of  government,  whether  aristocratical  or 
popular.” 

The  senators  murmured  applause,  unawed 
by  the  presence  of  Critias  and  his  associates. 
But  this  furious  tyrant  made  a signal  to  the 
armed  men,  who  surrounded  the  senate-house, 
to  show  the  points  of  their  daggers;  and  then 
stepping  forward,  said,  “ It  is  the  duty,  O sena- 
tors ! of  a prudent  magistrate,  to  prevent  the 
deception  and  danger  of  his  friends.  The  coun- 
tenance of  those  brave  youths  (pointing  to  his 
armed  partisans)  sufficiently  discovers  that  they 
will  not  permit  you  to  save  a man  who  is  mani- 
festly subverting  the  government : I,  therefore, 
with  the  general  consent,  strike  the  name  of 
Theramenes  from  the  list  of  those  who  have  a 
right  to  be  tried  before  the  senate;  and,  with 
the  approbation  of  my  colleagues,  I condemn 
him  to  immediate  death.”  Roused  by  this  un- 
expected and  bloody  sentence,  Theramenes 
started  from  his  seat,  and  sprang  to  the  altar 
of  the  senate-house,  at  once  imploring  the  com- 
passion, and  urging  the  interest  of  the  specta- 
tors, whose  names,  he  observed,  might  be  struck 
out,  and  whose  lives  might  be  sacrificed,  as  un- 
justly and  cruelly  as  his  own.  But  the  terror 
of  armed  violence  prevented  any  assistance  or 
intercession ; and  the  eleven  men  (for  thus  the 
Athenian  delicacy  styled  the  executioners  of 
public  justice)  dragged  him  from  the  altar,  and 
hurried  him  to  execution. 

In  proceeding  through  the  market-place  the 
unhappy  victim  of  tyranny  invoked  the  favour 
and  gratitude  of  his  fellow  citizens,  who  had 
often  been  protected  by  his  eloquence,  and  de- 


fended by  his  valour.  But  the  impudent  Saty 
rus,  the  chief  minister  of  vengeance  both  in 
authority  and  cruelty,  sternly  told  him,  that  if 
he  continued  his  lamentations  and  uproar  he 
should  soon  cry  in  good  earnest:4  “And  shall 
I not,”  said  Theramenes,  “ though  I remain 
silent  ?”  When  he  drank  the  fatal  hemlock,  he 
poured  a libation  on  the  ground  with  a health 
to  the  honest  Critias;  circumstances  unworthy 
to  relate,  if  they  proved  not,  that  even  in  his 
last  moments,  he  was  forsaken  neither  by  his 
facetiousness  nor  by  his  fortitude.5 

The  death  of  Theramenes  delivered  the  ty- 
rants from  the  only  restraint  which  tended  to 
control  their  insolence,  and  to  moderate  their 
cruelty.  They  might  now  indulge  in  all  the 
licentiousness  of  outrage,  without  the  fear  of 
reproach  or  the  danger  of  resistance.  Their 
miserable  subjects  were  driven  from  the  city, 
from  the  Piraeus,  from  their  houses,  their  farms, 
and  their  villages,  which  were  divided  among 
the  detestable  instruments  of  an  odious  usurpa- 
tion. Nor  did  the  tyrants  stop  here.  A man- 
date was  published,  enforced  by  the  authority 
of  the  Spartan  senate,  prohibiting  any  Grecian 
city  to  receive  the  unfortunate  fugitives.  But 
this  inhuman  order  was  almost  universally  dis- 
obeyed; the  sacred  laws  of  hospitality  prevailed 
over  the  terror  of  an  unjust  decree ; Thebes, 
Argos,  and  Megara,  were  crowded  with  Athe- 
nian exiles.6 

In  exercising  those  abominable  acts  of  cruelty, 
the  Thirty  probably  consulted  the  immediate 
safety  of  their  persons,  but  they  precipitated  the 
downfall  of  their  power.  The  oppressed  Athe- 
nians, whose  sufferings  seemed  no  longer  tole- 
rable, required  only  a leader  to  rouse  them  to 
arms,  and  to  conduct  them  to  victory  and  to  ven- 
geance. This  danger  the  tyrants  had  greater 
reason  to  apprehend,  since  they  could  not  ex- 
pect a reinforcement  to  the  garrison,  while  the 
efforts  of  Lysander  and  the  Spartans  were  prin- 
cipally directed  towards  the  extension  of  their 
Asiatic  conquests.  The  abilities  and  resent- 
ment of  Alcibiades  pointed  him  out  as  the  per- 
son best  qualified  to  undertake  the  arduous  and 
honourable  design  of  reassembling  the  fugitives, 
and  of  animating  them  with  courage  to  recover 
their  lost  country.  That  illustrious  exile  had 
been  driven  from  his  Thracian  fortress  by  the 
terror  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  then  masters  of 
the  Hellespont,  and  had  acquired  a settlement 
under  the  protection  of  Pharnabazus,  in  the 
little  village  of  Grynium  in  Phrygia,  where, 
undisturbed  by  the  dangerous  contentions  of 
war  and  politics,  he  enjoyed  an  obscure  happi- 
ness in  the  bosom  of  love  and  friendship.  But 
the  cruel  fears  of  the  tyrants  pursued  him  to 
this  last  retreat. 


4 Otj  o»yua>S;o«To,  £(  y.y)  <riu>T»i<r£ itv.  Literally,  that  lie 
would  cry  out  unless  he  were  silent.  The  inaccurate  lan- 
guage of  the  executioner  furnished  occasion  to  the  smart 
reply  of  Theramenes. 

5 Xenopli.  p.  470.  The  glorious  death  of  Theramenes 
cancelled  the  imperfections  of  his  life.  That  his  character 
was  inconstant,  most  writers  allow.  Lysias  adversus  Era- 
toBthen.  accuBcs  him  of  many  deliberate  crimes;  but  he 
died  in  a virtuous  cause,  and,  however  he  acted,  left  the 
scene  gracefully.  “ Qu am  me  delectat  Theramenes ! quam 
elato  animocst!  Etsi  enim  flemus,  cum  legimus,  tamen 
non  miserabiliter  vir  clarus  moritur.”  Cic.  Tusc.  Quaest. 

6 Diodor.  1.  xiv.  p.  236. 


3 Xenoph.  p.  464—466. 

2 L 


266 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Lysander  told  Pharnabazus  that  the  sacrifice 
of  Alcibiades  was  necessary  for  the  safety  of 
that  form  of  government  which  had  been  re- 
cently established  in  Athens,  and  which  it  was 
the  interest  both  of  Sparta  and  of  Persia  to 
maintain.  A private  reason  (which  will  after- 
wards appear)  prevailed  with  the  satrap  to  pay 
immediate  attention  to  this  bloody  advice.  A 
band  of  armed  Phrygians  was  sent  to  surprise 
and  destroy  Alcibiades.  Such  was  the  fame 
of  his  prowess,  that  these  timid  assassins  durst 
not  attack  him  in  broad  day,  or  by  open  force. 
They  chose  the  obscurity  of  night  to  surround 
and  set  fire  to  his  house,  which,  according  to 
the  fashion  of  the  country,  was  chiefly  com- 
posed of  light  and  combustible  materials.  The 
crackling  noise  of  t,he  flames  alarmed  Alcibia- 
des, whose  own  treacherous  character  render- 
ed him  always  suspicious  of  treachery.  He 
snatched  his  sword,  and,  twisting  his  mantle 
round  his  left  arm,  rushed  through  the  flaming 
edifice,  followed  by  his  faithful  Arcadian  friend, 
and  by  his  affectionate  mistress  Timandra.1 
The  cowardice  of  the  Phrygians,  declining  to 
meet  the  fury  of  his  assault,  covered  him  with 
a shower  of  javelins.  But  even  these  Barba- 
rians spared  the  weakness  and  the  sex  of  Ti- 
.mandra,  whose  tears  and  entreaties  obtained 
the  melancholy  consolation  of  burying  her  un- 
fortunate lover;  a man  whose  various  charac- 
ter can  only  be  represented  in  the  wonderful 
vicissitudes  of  his  life  and  fortune ; and  who, 
though  eminently  adorned  with  the  advantages 
of  birth,  wealth,  valour,  and  eloquence,  and 
endowed  with  uncommon  gifts  of  nature  and 
acquirements  of  art,  yet  deficient  in  discretion 
and  probity,  involved  his  country  and  himself 
in  inextricable  calamities. 

Although  the  life  of  Alcibiades  had  been 
highly  pernicious  to  his  country,  his  death,  at 
this  particular  juncture,  might  be  regarded  as  a 
misfortune,  if  the  Athenian  exiles  at  Thebes 
had  not  been  headed  by  a man  who  possessed 
his  excellences,  unmingled  with  his  defects  and 
vices.  The  enterprising  courage  of  Thrasybu- 
lus  was  animated  by  the  love  of  liberty ; and 
while  he  generally  followed2  the  rules  of  justice 
and  humanity,  he  had  magnanimity  to  con- 
ceive, abilities  to  conduct,  and  perseverance  to 
accomplish,  the  boldest  and  most  arduous  de- 
signs. Having  communicated  his  intentions 
to  the  unhappy  fugitives  in  Thebes  and  Mega- 
ra,  he  encouraged  a body  of  seventy  intrepid 
followers  to  seize  the  important  fortress  of 
Phyla,  situate  on  the  Boeotian  and  Athenian 
frontier.  This  daring  enterprize  alarmed  the 
tyrants,  who  marched  forth  with  the  flower  of 
their  troops  to  dislodge  the  new  garrison.  But 
the  natural  strength  of  the  place  baffled  their 
assault;  and,  when  they  determined  to  invest 
it,  the  unexpected  violence  of  a tempest,  accom- 
panied with  an  extraordinary  fall  of  snow,3 
obliged  them  to  desist  from  their  undertaking. 
They  returned  with  precipitation  to  Athens, 
leaving  behind  part  of  their  attendants  and 


1 Corn.  Nepos,  et  Plut.  in  Alcibiad. 

2 His  conduct,  as  will  appear  hereafter,  was  not  uni- 
form. 

3 E?riy»yt>iT«u  Tijj  yvKTU£  Zenopl). 

p.  471. 


[Chap. 

baggage,  which  fell  a prey  to  the  garrison  of 
Phyla;  the  strength  of  which  continually  aug 
mented  by  the  confluence  of  Athenian  exiles, 
and  soon  increased  from  seventy,  to  seven  hun- 
dred, men. 

The  tyrants  had  just  reason  to  apprehend 
that  these  daring  invaders  might  ravage  the 
surrounding  country,  and  even  attack  the  capi- 
tal. Alarmed  by  this  danger,  they  despatched 
several  troops  of  horse,  with  the  greater  part 
of  their  Lacedaemonian  mercenaries,  who  en- 
camped in  a woody  country,  at  the  distance  of 
fifteen  furlongs  from  Phyla,  in  order  to  watch 
the  motions  and  repress  the  incursions  of  the 
enemy.  But  these  forces,  which  had  been  sent 
to  guard  the  territory  and  city  from  surprise, 
were  themselves  surprised  by  Thrasybulus, 
who  silently  marched  forth  in  the  night,  posted 
his  men  amidst  the  concealed  intricacies  of  the 
forest,  and  suddenly  attacked  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians before  they  had  time  to  recollect  them- 
selves, or  even  to  stand  to  their  arms.  The 
dread  of  an  ambush  probably  prevented  the 
wary  general  from  following  them  to  any  great 
distance  from  the  garrison.  A hundred  and 
twenty  men  were  slain  in  the  pursuit ; a trophy 
was  erected ; the  baggage  and  arms  were  con- 
veyed in  triumph  to  Phyla.4 

The  news  of  this  disaster  inspired  the  Thirty 
with  such  terror  that  they  no  longer  regarded  a 
demolished  city  like  Athens  as  proper  for  their 
residence.  They  determined  to  remove  to  the 
neighbouring  town  of  Eleusis,  which,  in  case  of 
extremity,  seemed  more  capable  of  defence. 
The  three  thousand,  who  were  entrusted  with 
the  use  of  arms,  accompanied  them  thither,  and 
assisted  them  in  treacherously  putting  to  death 
all  such  of  the  Eleusinians  as  were  thought  dis- 
affected to  the  usurpation.  Under  pretence  of 
mustering  the  inhabitants,  those  unhappy  men 
were  singly  conducted  through  a narrow  gate 
leading  to  the  shore,  where  they  were  succes- 
sively disarmed,  bound,  and  executed,  by  the 
cruel  instruments  of  tyranny.5 

Mean  while  the  garrison  of  Phyla  continually 
received  new  reinforcements.  The  orator  Lysias, 
whose  domestic  sufferings  have  been  recently 
described,  collected  three  hundred  men  to  take 
vengeance  on  the  murderers  of  his  brother,  and 
the  authors  of  his  own  banishment.6  These  use- 
ful supplies  encouraged  Thrasybulus  to  attempt 
surprising  the  Piraeus,  the  inhabitants  of  which, 
consisting  chiefly  of  tradesmen,  merchants,  and 
mariners,  bore  with  great  impatience  and  indig- 
nation the  injuries  of  a subordinate  council  of 
Ten,  the  obsequious  imitators  of  the  Thirty. 
This  enterprise  was  crowned  with  success,  al- 
though the  tyrants  brought  forth  their  whole 
force  to  oppose  it.  Having  intercepted  their 
march  to  the  place,  Thrasybulus  occupied  a ris- 
ing ground,  which  gave  him  a decisive  advan- 
tage in  the  engagement. 

Before  leading  his  men  to  action,  he  animated 
their  valour  and  resentment,  by  reminding 
them,  that  the  enemy  on  the  right  consisted  of 
those  Lacedaemonians  whom  only  five  days  be- 


4 Xenoph.  p.  471  5 Id.  ibid. 

6 Justin.  1.  v.  c.  ix.  The  compiler,  with  hia  usual  inac- 
cuiacy,  says  Lysias  Syracusanus  orator. 


267 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


XXIII.] 

fore  they  had  shamefully  routed  and  put  to  r 
flight ; that  the  troops  on  the  left  were  com- 
manded by  the  Thirty  tyrants,  who  had  unjustly 
driven  them  into  banishment,  confiscated  their 
property,  and  murdered  their  dearest  friends. 
“ But  the  gods  have  finally  given  us  the  oppor- 
tunity (long  ardently  desired)  to  face  our  oppres- 
sors with  arms  in  our  hands,  and  to  take  ven- 
geance on  their  multiplied  wickedness  and  cru- 
elty. When  they  invested  us  at  Phyla,  the  gods, 
consulting  our  safety,  ruffled  the  serenity  of  the 
sky  with  an  unexpected  tempest.  The  assist- 
ance of  Heaven  enabled  us,  with  a handful  of 
men,  to  raise  a trophy  over  our  numerous  foes  ; 
and  the  same  divine  Providence  still  favours  us 
with  the  most  manifest  marks  of  partiality. 
The  enemy  are  drawn  up  in  a deep  and  close 
array;  they  must  be  obliged  to  ascend  the  emi- 
nence ; the  javelins  of  their  rear  cannot  reach 
beyond  their  van  ; while,  from  the  reverse  of 
these  circumstances,  no  weapon  of  ours  needs 
be  discharged  in  vain.  Let  us  avail  ourselves, 
therefore,  of  an  arrangement  evidently  produc- 
ed by  the  favour  of  Heaven  ; each  soldier  re- 
membering, that  he  never  can  achieve  a more 
honourable  victory,  or  obtain  a more  glorious 
tomb.”7 8 

The  revered  authority  of  the  priest  enforced 
the  exhortation  of  the  general.  He  promised 
them  complete  success,  provided  they  forbore  to 
charge  till  one  of  their  men  were  killed  or  wound- 
ed : “ Then,”  added  he,  “ I will  conduct  you  on 
to  victory,  though  I myself  shall  fall.”  He  had 
scarcely  ended,  when  the  enemy  threw  their 
javelins;  upon  which,  as  if  guided  by  a divine 
impulse,  he  rushed  forward  to  the  attack.  Both 
parts  of  his  prediction  were  accomplished.  The 
battle  was  neither  long  nor  bloody ; but  Critias 
and  Hippomachus,  the  two  most  violent  of  the 
tyrants,  were  left  among  the  slain.  Thrasybu- 
lus  judiciously  avoided  to  pursue  the  scattered 
fugitives,  who  being  superior  in  number,  might 
still  rally  and  renew  the  battle,  if  he  quitted  the 
advantage  of  the  ground.  But  having  proceed- 
ed to  the  foot  of  the  hill,  he  stopped  the  ardour 
of  his  troops,  and  commanded  the  herald  Cleo- 
critus  to  proclaim  with  a loud  voice,  “ Where- 
fore, Athenians!  would  you  fly  from  your  coun- 
trymen ? Wherefore  have  you  driven  them  from 
the  city  ? Why  do  you  thirst  for  their  blood  ? 
We  are  all  united  by  religious,  civil,  and  do- 
mestic ties.  Often,  with  combined  arms,  have 
we  fought  by  sea  and  land,  to  defend  our  com- 
mon country  and  common  freedom.  Even  in 
this  unnatural  civil  war,  excited  and  fomented 
by  the  ambition  of  impious  and  abominable  ty- 
rants, who  have  shed  more  blood  in  eight 
months,  than  the  Peloponnesians,  our  public 
enemies,  in  ten  years,  we  have  lamented  your 
misfortunes  as  much  as  our  own  ; nor  is  there  a 
man  whom  you  have  left  on  the  field  of  battle, 
whose  death  does  not  excite  our  sympathy,  and 
increase  our  affliction.”  The  tyrants,  dreading 
the  effect  of  a proclamation  well  calculated  to 
sow  the  seeds  of  disaffection,  led  off  their 
troops  with  great  precipitation  ; and  Thrasybu- 
lus,  without  stripping  the  dead,  marched  to  the 
Pirseus.s 


| Next  day  the  Thirty,  shamefully  discomfited 
in  the  engagement,  and  depri  ved  of  Critias,  their 
furious  but  intrepid  leader,  took  their  melan- 
choly seats  in  council  with  strong  indications  of 
expected  ruin.  Their  unfortunate  subjects  ac- 
cused their  commanders,  and  each  other;  a new 
sedition  arose  ; nor  was  the  ferment  allayed, 
until  the  tyrants  had  been  deprived  of  their  dig- 
nity, and  ten  magistrates  (one  elected  from  ^ach 
tribe)  appointed  in  their  room.9  The  surviving 
tyrants,  with  those  who  were  too  closely  united 
with  them  in  guilt,  not  to  be  united  in  interest, 
fled  to  Eleusis. 

It  might  be  expected  that  the  decemvirs, 
who  now  assumed  the  government,  should  have 
been  deterred  from  injustice  by  the  fatal  example 
of  their  predecessors.  But  in  the  turbulent  re- 
publics of  Greece,  however  free  in  theory,  men 
were  little  acquainted  with  the  benefits  of  prac- 
tical liberty.  Whether  the  nobles,  or  people,  or 
a prevailing  faction  of  either ; whether  party  in 
the  state  obtained  the  chief  administration,  their 
authority  was  almost  alike  oppressive  and  tyran- 
nical. Alternately  masters  and  slaves,  those 
fierce  republicans  were  either  unable  or  unwil- 
ling to  draw  that  decisive  and  impervious  line 
between  the  power  of  government,  and  the 
liberty  of  the  subject ; a line  which  forms  the 
only  solid  barrier  of  a uniform,  consistent,  and 
rational  freedom. 

The  Ten  had  no  sooner  been  invested  with  the 
ensigns  of  command,  than  they  showed  an  equal 
inclination  with  the  Thirty  to  obey  the  Lacedae- 
monians, and  to  tyrannise  over  their  fellow- 
citizens.19  After  various  skirmishes,  which  hap- 
pened in  the  course  of  two  weeks,  and  generally 
proved  honourable  to  the  bravery  and  conduct 
of  Thrasybulus,  the  tyrants  both  in  Eleusis  and 
in  Athens  despatched  messengers  to  solicit  far- 
ther assistance  from  Sparta  and  Lysander.  That 
active  and  enterprising  leader  employed  his 
usual  diligence  to  protect  the  government  which 
he  had  established.  At  the  head  of  a powerful 
body  of  mercenaries,  he  marched  to  the  Pirauis, 
which  he  invested  by  land  ; while  his  brother 
Libys,  who  commanded  a considerable  squa- 
dron, blocked  up  the  harbour.11 

These  vigorous  exertions  restored  the  hopes 
and  courage  of  the  tyrants  ; nor  can  it  be  doubt- 
ed that  Thrasybulus  and  his  followers  must 
have  speedily  been  compelled  to  surrender,  had 
the  Spartan  commanders  been  allowed  to  act 
without  control.  But  the  proud  arrogance  of 
Lysander,  and  the  rapacious  avarice  of  his  de- 
pendents, provoked  the  indignation  and  resent- 
ment of  whatever  was  most  respectable  in  his 
country.  The  kings,  magistrates,  and  senate, 
conspired  to  humble  his  ambition  ; and,  lest  he 
should  enjoy  the  glory  of  conquering  Athens  a 
second  time,  Pausanias,  the  most  popular  and 
beloved  of  the  Spartan  princes,  hastily  levied 
the  domestic  troops,  and  a considerable  body  of 
Peloponnesian  allies,  and  marching  through  the 
Isthmus  of  Corinth  encamped  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Athens  ; little  solicitous  to  increase  the 
dissensions  in  that  city,  provided  he  could  anti- 
cipate and  thwart  the  measures  of  Lysander. 


7 Xenoph.  p.  473.  et  Diodor.  1.  xiv.  p.  414. 

8 Xenoph.  p.  474. 


0 Ibid,  et  Isocrat.  ii.  p.  426. 

10  Lvsins  adverv  Eratopfh.  p.  212,  et  peq. 

11  Xenoph.  p.  476.  et  Diodor.  ubi.  Btipra. 


263 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


Ol  . While  the  two  Lacedaemonian  ar- 

xciv  2 mies  discovered,  in  the  distance  of 
A C 403  ^eir  encamPmen^s»  a disunion  of 
their  views  and  interests,  an  inci- 
dent happened  which  determined  Pausanias  to 
undertake  the  protection  of  Thracybulus  and 
his  adherents  ; a resolution  to  which  he  was 
naturally  inclined  from  opposition  to  an  envied 
and  odious  rival.  Diognotus,  an  Athenian  of 
an  amiable  and  respectable  character,  brought 
him  the  children  of  Niceratus  and  Eucrates ; 
the  former  the  son,  the  latter  the  brother,  of  the 
great  Nicias,  with  whom  the  Spartan  king  was 
connected  by  the  hereditary  ties  of  hospitality 
and  friendship.  Having  placed  the  helpless 
infants  on  his  knees,  he  conjured  him,  by  his 
religious  regard  for  the  memory  of  their  much- 
respected  ancestor,  to  pity  their  innocence  and 
weakness,  and  to  defend  them  against  the  cruel 
tyranny  of  a worthless  faction,  ambitious  to  cut 
off  and  destroy  whatever  was  distinguished  by 
birth,  wealth,  or  virtue.1  This  affecting  scene, 
had  it  failed  to  touch  the  heart  of  Pausanias, 
must  at  least  have  afforded  him  a plausible  pre- 
tence for  embracing  the  party  of  Thrasybulus, 
which  numbered  among  its  adherents  the  friends 
and  family  of  Nicias,  who  had  long  been  sus- 
pected of  an  undue  attachment  to  the  Spartan 
interest. 

Before  he  could  fully  persuade  the  enemy  of 
his  favourable  intentions,  several  bloody  skir- 
mishes were  fought,  in  which  the  partisans  of 
democracy  defended  the  Pirseus  with  unequal 
force,  but  with  uncommon  resolution.2  At 
length  Pausanias  made  them  understand,  that, 
instead  of  destroying  their  persons,  he  wished  to 
protect  their  liberties.  In  Athens  his  emissa- 
ries made  known  this  unexpected  revolution, 
which  excited  a numerous  party  to  throw  off 
the  yoke  of  the  tyrants,  and  to  desire  a recon- 
ciliation with  their  fellow  citizens  in  the  Piraeus. 
The  deputies  were  favourably  received  by  the 
Spartan  king,  and  sent,  under  his  protection,  to 
propose  overtures  of  accommodation  to  the 
ephori  and  senate.  The  messengers  of  Lysan- 
der  and  the  tyrants  endeavoured  to  traverse  this 
negotiation  ; but  notwithstanding  their  opposi- 
tion, the  Spartans  appointed  fifteen  commis- 
sioners, who,  in  conjunction  with  Pausanias, 
were  empowered  to  settle  the  affairs  of  Athens.3 

With  the  approbation,  or  rather  by  the  com- 
mand, of  those  ministers,  the  Athenian  factions 
ceased  from  hostility  ; the  tyrants  were  divested 
of  their  power  ; the  foreign  garrison  was  with- 
drawn ; and  the  popular  government  re-esta- 
blished. This  important  revolution  was  re- 
markable for  its  singular  mildness.  The  authors 
and  instruments  of  the  most  oppressive  usurpa- 
tion recorded  in  the  annals  of  any  people,  were 
allowed  to  retire  in  safety  to  Eleusis.  Thra- 
sybulus conducted  a military  procession  to  the 
temple  of  Minerva  in  the  citadel,  where  the  ac- 
knowledgments of  thanks  and  sacrifice  were  of- 
fered to  that  protecting  divinity,  who  had  re- 
stored the  virtuous  exiles  to  their  country,  and 
healed  the  divisions  of  the  state.  The  citizens 


1 Lysias  adv.  Poliuchum,  p.  323.  and  the  translation  of 
Lysias,  p.  231. 

2 Xenoph.  Diodor.  Lysias,  ubi  supra. 

3 Xenoph.  p.  478. 


who  had  been  banished,  and  those  who  hat} 
driven  them  into  banishment,  joined  in  this 
solemn  exercise  of  religious  duty  ; after  which, 
convening  in  full  assembly,  they  were  address- 
ed by  Thrasybulus  in  these  memorable  words  : 

“ The  experience  of  your  past  transactions 
may  enable  you,  men  of  Athens  ! to  know  each 
other,  and  to  know  yourselves.  On  what  pre- 
tence could  you,  who  drove  us  from  the  city, 
abet  a tyrannical  faction  ? Why  would  you 
have  enslaved  your  fellow  citizens  ? On  what 
superiority  of  merit  could  you  found  your  claim 
of  dominion  ? Is  it  that  you  are  more  honest 
and  virtuous  ? Yet  the  people  whom  you  in- 
sulted never  relieved  their  poverty  by  unjust 
gain ; whereas  the  tyrants  whom  you  served, 
increased  their  wealth  by  the  most  oppressive 
rapacity.  Is  it  that  you  are  more  brave  and 
warlike  ? Yet  this  injured  people,  alone  and 
unassisted,  and  almost  unarmed,  have  over- 
come your  superior  numbers,  reinforced  by  the 
Lacedaemonian  garrison,  the  powerful  succours 
of  Pausanias,  and  the  experienced  mercenaries 
of  Lysander.  As  you  must  yield  the  prize  both 
of  probity  and  of  prowess,  so  neither  can  you 
claim  the  honour  of  superior  prudence  and  sa- 
gacity. You  have  been  not  only  conquered  in 
war,  but  overcome  in  negotiation,  by  the  peo- 
ple whom  you  despised  ; to  whom  your  Lace- 
daemonian masters  have  delivered  you,  like 
biting  curs,4  bound  and  muzzled,  to  be  justly 
punished  for  your  unprovoked  insolence  and 
audacity.  But  as  to  you,  my  fellow  sufferers 
and  fellow  exiles  ! you,  who  shared  the  hard- 
ships of  my  banishment,  and  who  now  share  the 
triumph  of  my  victorious  return,  I exhort  you 
to  forgive  and  forget  our  common  injuries.  Let 
the  dignity  of  your  sentiments  adorn  the  splen- 
dour of  your  actions.  Prove  yourselves  superior 
to  your  enemies,  not  only  in  valour  but  in  cle- 
mency, that  moderation  may  produce  concord, 
and  concord  strength.” 

The  effect  of  this  generous  enthusiasm,  ex- 
cited and  diffused  by  Thrasybulus,  appeared  in 
a very  extraordinary  resolution  of  the  assem- 
bly. During  the  usurpation  of  the  Thirty,  a 
hundred  talents  had  been  borrowed  from  the 
Lacedaemonians,  to  support  the  rigorous  cru- 
elty of  a government  which  had  banished  five 
thousand,5  and  put  to  death,  untried,  fifteen 
hundred  citizens.  The  repayment  of  this  sum 
was  not  to  be  expected  from  the  people  at  large, 
against  whose  interest  and  safety  it  had  been  so 
notoriously  employed.  Yet  the  Athenians  una- 
nimously resolved,  on  this  occasion,  that  the 
money  should  be  charged  indiscriminately  on 
them  all.6  This  unexampled  generosity  might 
have  encouraged  even  the  enfeebled  party  of 
the  tyrants  to  return  from  Eleusis.  But  they 
were  too  sensible  of  their  guilt  to  expect  for- 
giveness or  impunity.  Having  fortified  their 
insecure  residence,  in  the  best  manner  that  their 
circumstances  could  permit,  they  began  to  pre- 
pare arms ; to  collect  mercenaries;  and  to  try, 
anew,  the  fortune  of  war.  But  their  unequal 

4 'C-iT7rtg  roof  $ xxvovtx;  y.vvug  $vi<rxvTi$  jrxgx  SiSoxnv. 
Xenoph.  Hellen.  ii.  sub  fin.  In  their  comparisons  the  an- 
cients, it  is  well  known,  regarded  justness  more  than  dignity 

5 Isorrat.  in  Areopag.  p.  345.  says  upwards  of  five  hun- 
dred. Diodorus  says  the  one-half  of  the  citizens. 

6 Isocrates,  ibid,  et  p.  495.  of  the  translation. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


269 


XXIV.] 

hostility,  the  effect  of  rage  and  despair,  was 
easily  defeated  by  the  vigour  of  the  new  re- 
public. The  most  obnoxious  leaders  sealed, 
with  their  blood,  the  safety  of  their  adherents, 
who  submitted  to  the  clemency  of  Thrasybulus. 
That  fortunate  and  magnanimous  commander 
generously  undertook  their  cause,  and  obtained 
a decree  of  the  people  for  restoring  them  to  the 
city,  for  reinstating  them  in  their  fortunes  and 
privileges,  and  for  burying  in  oblivion  the  me- 
mory of  their  past  offences.7 8  The  assembly 
even  ratified,  by  oath,  this  act  of  amnesty,  of 
which  both  the  idea  and  the  "name  have  been 
adopted  by  most  civilized  nations,  and  extolled 


by  all  historians,  ancient  and  modern;  who, 
dazzled  by  the  splendour  of  a transaction  so 
honourable  to  Thrasybulus  and  to  Athens,  have 
universally  forgot  to  mention,  that  the  condi- 
tions of  the  amnesty  were  not  faithfully  ob- 
served. Yet  there  is  the  fullest  evidence  to 
prove, s that,  when  the  tyrants  were  no  more, 
the  abettors  of  their  usurpation  were  accused, 
convicted,  and  punished,  for  crimes  of  which 
they  had  been  promised  indemnity  by  a solemn 
oath.  So  true  it  is,  that  the  Athenians  had 
wisdom  to  discern,  but  wanted  constancy  to 
practise,  the  lessons  of  sound  policy,  or  even 
the  rules  of  justice. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Accusation  of  Socrates — Artifices  of  his  Accusers — His  Defence — Condemnation — Address  to  the 
Judges — His  Conversation  in  Prison — and  Death — Transient  Persecution  of  his  Disciples — 
Writings  of  Cebes — JEs chines — State  of  Philosophy — Of  the  Fine  Arts — Of  Literature — He- 
rodotus— Thucydides — Xenophon — Transition  to  the  public  Transactions  of  Greece — The  Spar- 
tans invade  Elis — The  Messenians  driven  from  Greece — History  of  Cyrene — Of  Sicily — War 
with  Carthage — Siege  of  Agrigentum — Reign  of  Dionysius ■ — Sicily  the  first  Province  of 
Rome. 


TT  were  well  for  the  honour  of  Athens,  if  none 
but  the  cruel  abettors  of  an  aristocratical  fac- 
tion had  experienced  the  unjust  rigour  of  its 
j-v,  tribunals.  But  among  the  first  me- 

xc^  f'  morable  transactions,  after  the  re- 
A C *400  establishment  democracy,  hap- 
pened the  trial  and  condemnation 
of  Socrates  ; a man  guiltless  of  every  offence 
but  that  of  disgracing,  by  his  illustrious  merit, 
the  vices  and  follies  of  his  contemporaries.  His 
death  sealed  the  inimitable  virtues  of  his  useful 
and  honourable  life ; it  seemed  to  be  bestowed 
as  a favour,  not  inflicted  as  a punishment ; since, 
had  Socrates,  who  had  already  passed  his  se- 
ventieth year,  yielded  to  the  decays  of  nature, 
his  fame  would  have  descended  less  splendid, 
certainly  more  doubtful,  to  posterity. 

The  remote  cause  of  his  prosecution  was  the 
ludicrous  farce  of  Aristophanes,  entitled  the 
Clouds;  to  which  we  had  occasion  formerly  to 
allude.  In  this  infamous  performance,  Socrates 
is  introduced  denying  the  religion  of  his  coun- 

7  Among  these  offences  were  reckoned  the  arbitrary  laws 
enacted  during  their  usurpation.  All  these  laws  were  an- 
nulled, and  those  of  Solon,  Clisthenes,  Pericles,  See.  re-es- 
tablished. It  appears  that  the  Athenians  embraced  the 
same  opportunity  of  examining  their  ancient  laws,  abolish- 
ing such  as  no  longer  suited  the  condition  of  the  times,  arid 
enacting  some  new  ones.  Andocid.  Orat.  i.  de  Myster.  p. 
212.  et  Demo9t.  adv.  Timocrat.  p.  4G9.  The  year  in  which 
the  democracy  was  restored,  or,  in  other  words,  the  archon- 
ship  of  Euclidcs,  was  regarded,  therefore,  as  an  important 
era  in  Athenian  jurisprudence.  The  only  material  altera- 
tions on  record  consist,  1.  In  the  law  confining  the  right  of 
voting  in  the  assembly  to  those  born  of  Athenian  mothers. 
Formerly  it  sufficed  that  the  father  was  a citizen,  the  con- 
dition of  the  mother  not  being  regarded.  Athenams,  xiii. 

285.  et  Mark,  in  Vit.  Lysiae,  p.  55.  2.  In  the  law  of 
emophantus,  requiring  thetfitizens  to  take  an  oath  that  no 
personal  danger  should  prevent  them  from  doing  their  ut- 
most to  deliver  their  country  from  tyrants.  Vid.  Lycurg. 
adv.  Leocr.  p.  180.  et  Andoc.  de  Myst.  p.  220. 

8 See  Lysias’s  Orations  against  Agoratus  and  Eratos- 

thenes, from  p.  233.  to  p.  280. 


try,  corrupting  the  morals  of  his  disciples,  and 
professing  the  odious  arts  of  sophistry  and 
chicane.  The  envy  of  a licentious  populace,, 
which  ever  attends  virtue  too  independent  to 
court,  and  too  sincere  to  flatter  them,  gradually 
envenomed  the  shafts  of  the  poet,  and  malig- 
nantly insinuated  that  the  pretended  sage  was 
really  such  a person  as  the  petulance  of  Aris- 
tophanes had  described  him.  The  calumny 
was  greedily  received,  and  its  virulence  imbit- 
tered  by  the  craft  of  designing  priests  and  am- 
biguous demagogues,  as  well  as  by  the  resent- 
ment of  bad  poets  and  vain  sophists,  whose 
pretended  excellences  the  discernment  of  So- 
crates had  unmasked,  and  whose  irritable  tem- 
per his  sincerity  had  grievously  offended.9  From 
such  a powerful  combination  it  seems  extraor- 
dinary that  Socrates  should  have  lived  so  long, 
especially  since,  during  the  democracy,  he  ne- 
ver disguised  his  contempt  for  the  capricious 
levity,  injustice,  and  cruelty  of  the  multitude, 
and  during  the  usurpation  of  the  Thirty  openly 
arraigned  the  vices,  and  defied  the  authority  of 
those  odious  tyrants.  His  long  escape  he  him- 
self ascribed  to  his  total  want  of  ambition. 
Had  he  intermeddled  in  public  affairs,  and  en- 
deavoured, by  arming  himself  with  authority, 
to  withstand  the  corruptions  of  the  times,  his 
more  formidable  opposition  would  have  exposed 
him  to  an  earlier  fate.10  Notwithstanding  his 


9 The  causes  qf  his  persecution,  which  ore  hinted  at  in 
Xenophon’s  Apology  for  Socrates,  are  more  fully  explained 
in  that  written  by  Plato.  Vid.  Plat.  Apolog.  Socrat.  sect, 
vi.  From  these  two  admirable  treatises  of  practical  mo- 
rality, together  with  the  first  chapter  of  Xenophon’s  Me- 
morabilia, and  Plato’s  Phtedo,  the  narrative  in  the  text  i9 
principally  extracted. 

10  The  memorable  words  of  Socrates  will  for  ever  brand 
the  stern  unfeeling  spirit  of  democracy.  Ev  yctf  urn  a> 

A5iq/«»oi,  ei  tyui  Trukcti  im i(*t<r»  ret  ttoMtixc* 

TTgety/tHTX,  7TXXxi  MV  M7T0\vktlVt  KMi  0VT*  MV  VflMi  0)^1- 


270 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


private  station,  it  seems  still  to  have  appeared 
remarkable  to  his  disciples,  that  amidst  the  liti- 
gious turbulence  of  democracy,  his  invidious 
fame  and  merit  should  have  escaped  persecu- 
tion during  a long  life  of  seventy  years. 

When  his  enemies  finally  determined  to  raise 
an  accusation  against  him,  it  required  uncom- 
mon address  to  give  their  malignant  calumnies 
the  appearance  of  probability.  Socrates  con- 
versed in  public  with  every  description  of  men, 
in  all  places,  and  on  all  occasions.  His  opinions 
were  as  well  known  as  his  person,  and  ever  uni- 
form and  consistent ; he  taught  no  secret  doc- 
trines ; admitted  no  private  auditors ; his  les- 
sons were  open  to  all ; and  that  they  were  gra- 
tuitous, his  poverty,  compared  with  the  exorbi- 
tant wealth  of  the  sophists  who  accused  him, 
furnished  abundant  proof.  To  balance  these 
stubborn  circumstances,  his  enemies  confided 
in  the  hatred  of  the  jury  and  judges,  composed 
of  the  meanest  populace,  and  the  perjury  of 
false  witnesses,  which  might  be  purchased  at 
Athens  for  the  small  sum  of  a few  drachmas. 
They  trusted,  however,  not  less  in  the  artifices 
and  eloquence  of  Miletus,  Anytus,1  and  Ly- 
con  ; the  first  of  whom  appeared  on  the  part  of 
the  priests  and  poets ; the  second,  on  that  of 
the  politicians  and  artists  ; the  third,  on  that  of 
the  rhetoricians  and  sophists.2 

From  the  nature  of  an  accusation,  which 
principally  respected  religion,  the  cause  ought 
to  have  been  regularly  tried  in  the  less  numer- 
ous but  more  enlightened  tribunal  of  the  Areo- 
pagus; yet  it  was  immediately  carried  before 
the  tumultuary  assembly,  or  rather  mob  of  the 
Heliaea,3  a court,  for  so  it  was  called,  consist- 
ing of  five  hundred  persons,  most  of  whom 
were  liable,  by  their  education  and  way  of  life, 
to  be  seduced  by  eloquence,  intimidated  by  au- 
thority, and  corrupted  by  every  species  of  un- 
due influence. 

In  a degenerate  age  and  nation,  few  virtuous 
or  able  men  ever  acquired  popularity  merely 
by  their  virtues  or  abilities.  In  such  a nation, 
should  a person,  otherwise  estimable,  be  unfor- 


k^r.eiv  ouS'sv  out£  xv  Eftx urov*  xc ti  to*  /uy  xySstrSe  key ovti 
t ’ ov  yxp  sttiv  otrrig  <r«.'S>]<r£T**,  outs  vftev  outs 

ttXAto  ovSevt  TrK'niei  yv»i<riw(  evxvr  io\i/xevcgf  xxi  XtxxaikvMV 
irokkx  xSixx  xxi  7txqxv o/xx  ev  n i vrokti  yiyvecbxi’  xKKx 
xvxy  XXiOV  £(TT*  TOJ0VT < /*X%0U£V0V  UTTeg  TOU  £*XX*0U,  XXI 

ii  /xekkei  oKiyov  xpovov  <ru>5v,<reir5xi,  iS'imte-jsiv,  xKKx  pvi- 
$*,/xorieveiv.  Plut.  A polog.  Socrat.  c.  xiii.  “ You  well  know, 
Athenians!  that  had  I formerly  intermeddled  in  public  af- 
fairs I should  formerly  have  perished,  without  benefiting 
either  you  or  myself.  Be  not  offended  ; but  it  is  impossible 
that  he  should  live  long  who  arraigns  and  manfully  oppo- 
ses the  injustice  aYid  licentiousness  of  you,  Athenians!  or 
of  any  other  multitude.  A champion  for  virtue,  if  he 
would  survive  but  a few  years,  must  lead  a private  life,  and 
not  interfere  in  politics.” 

1 Some  personal  reasons  are  glanced  at  why  Miletus  and 
Anytus  stepped  forth  as  accusers.  Vid.  Andocid.  Orat.  i. 
et  Xenoph.  Apol.  Socrat.  Lihanius  has  swelled  to  a long 
story,  and  strangely  disfigured  the  hint  of  Xenophon.  Apol. 
Soc.  p.  642,  et  seq. 

2 Plato  Apol.  Soc.  c.  x. 

3 This  appears  from  innumerable  circumstances,  some 
of  which  are  mentioned  below,  though  Meursius,  in  his 
Treatise  on  the  Areopagus  (vid.  Gronov.  Thesaur.  vol.  5.,) 
maintains  that  Socrates  was  tried  in  that  court ; an  opinion 
which  has  been  generally  followed,  but  which  the  slightest 
attention  to  the  works  of  the  Athenian  orators  is  sufficient 
to  disprove.  Vid.  Isoc.  Orat.  Areopag.  Lysias  adv.  An- 
docid. p.  108.  et  Andocid.  Orat.  i.  p.  215.  The  oath  to 
which  Socrates  alludes  in  Xenophon’s  Apology,  c iv.  can 
only  apply  to  the  Helirea.  It  is  recited  at  length  by  De- 
mosthenes, Orat.  cont.  Timocrat. 


[Chap. 

tunately  cursed  with  ambition,  he  must  endea- 
vour to  gratify  it  at  the  expense  of  his  feelings 
and  his  principles,  and  can  attain  general  favour 
only  in  proportion  as  he  ceases  to  deserve  it. 
Uncomplying  integrity  will  meet  with  derision; 
and  wisdom,  disdaining  artifice,  will  grovel  in 
obscurity,  while  those  alone  will  reach  fame,  or 
fortune,  or  honour,  who,  though  endowed  with 
talents  just  beyond  mediocrity,  condescend  to 
flatter  the  prejudices,  imitate  the  manners,  gra- 
tify the  pride,  or  adopt  the  resentments,  of  an 
insolent  populace. 

The  superior  mind  of  Socrates  was  incapa- 
ble of  such  mean  compliances.  When  called 
to  make  his  defence,  he  honestly  acknowledged 
that  he  himself  was  much  affected  by  the  per- 
suasive eloquence  of  his  adversaries  ; though, 
in  truth,  if  he  might  use  the  expression,  they 
had  said  nothing  to  the  purpose.4  He  then  ob- 
served, that  the  fond  partiality  of  his  friend 
Chasrephon,  having  asked  the  Delphic  oracle, 
whether  any  man  was  wiser  than  Socrates? — 
the  oracle  replied,  that  Socrates  was  the  wisest 
of  men.  In  order  to  justify  the  answer  of  that 
god,  whose  veracity  they  all  acknowledged,  he 
had  conversed  with  every  distinction  of  per- 
sons, most  eminent  in  the  republic  ; and  finding 
that  they  universally  pretended  to  know  many 
things  of  which  they  were  ignorant,  he  began 
to  suspect,  that  in  this  circumstance  he  excelled 
them,  since  he  pretended  to  no  sort  of  knpw- 
ledge  of  which  he  was  not  really  iViaster. 
What  he  did  know,  he  freely  communicated, 
striving,  to  the  utmost,  to  render  his  fellow  ci- 
tizens more  virtuous  and  more  happy  ; an  em- 
ployment to  which  he  believed  himself  called 
by  the  god,  u whose  authority  I respect,  Athe- 
nians ! still  more  than  yours.” 

The  judges  were  seized  with  indignation  at 
this  firm  language  from  a man  capitally  accused, 
from  whom  they  expected,  that  according  to 
the  usual  practice,  he  would  have  brought  his 
wife  and  children  to  intercede  for  him  by  their 
tears,5  or  even  have  employed  the  elaborate 
discourse  which  his  friend  Lysias,  the  orato»*1 
had  composed  for  his  defence;  a discourse  alifie 
fitted  to  detect  calumny,  and  to  excite  compas- 
sion. But  Socrates,  who  considered  it  as  a far 
greater  misfortune  to  commit,  than  to  suffer  an 
injustice,  declared,  that  he  thought  it  unbecom- 
ing his  fame,  and  unworthy  his  character,  to 
employ  any  other  defence  than  that  of  an  inno- 
cent and  useful  life.  Whether  to  incur  the 
penalties  of  the  delinquency  with  which  he  was 
falsely  charged  ought  to  be  regarded  as  an  evil, 
the  gods  alone  knew.  For  his  part  he  imagined 
that  he  should  have  no  reason  for  sorrow  at 
being  delivered  from  the  inconveniences  of  old 
age,  which  wrere  ready  to  overtake  him,  and  at 
being  commanded  to  quit  life6  while  his  mind, 


4 The  simplicity  of  the  original  is  inimitable — K*«  to* 
xkttSeg  yet  uig  evz oc  eiitsiv,  ovoev  tiprxxtri.  Pint.  Apol. 

5 These  circumstances,  which  are  mentioned  both  by 
Xenophon  and  Plato,  prove  that  Socrates  was  tried  before 
a popular  tribunal.  It  is  well  known  that  the  Areopagus 
rigorously  proscribed  all  such  undue  methods  of  biassing  the 
judgment  and  seducing  the  phs«ions.  Vid.  Demosth.  in 
Ne<er.  et  Aristocrat.  ASschin.  in  Timarch.  Lucian.  Hermo- 
tim.  et  Isocrat.  Areopag. 

6 Xenophon  says,  that  he  writes  Socrates’  Defence,  after 
so  many  others,  who  had  already  executed  that  task  with 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


271 


XXIV.] 

Btill  active  and  vigorous,  was  likely  to  leave  be- 
hind him  the  most  agreeable  impression  in  the 
remembrance  of  his  friends. 

The  firm  magnanimity  of  Socrates  could  not 
alter  the  resolution  of  his  judges  ; yet  such  is 
the  ascendancy  of  virtue  over  the  worst  of 
minds,  that  he  was  found  guilty  by  a majority 
of  only  three  voices.* * * 7 *  The  court  then  com- 
manded him,  agreeably  to  a principle  which 
betrays  the  true  spirit  of  democratical  tyranny, 
to  pass  sentence  of  condemnation  on  himself, 
and  to  name  the  punishment  which  ought  to  be 
inflicted  on  him.  The  punishment,  said  Socra- 
tes, which  I deserve  for  having  spent  my  whole 
life  in  endeavouring  to  render  my  fellow  citizens 
wiser  and  better,  and  particularly  in  striving  to 
inspire  the  Athenian  youth  with  the  love  of 
justice  and  temperance,  is  “ To  be  maintained, 
during  the  remainder  of  my  life,  in  the  Pryta- 
naeum  ; an  honour  due  to  me,  rather  than  to 
the  victors  in  the  Olympic  games,  since  as  far  as 
depended  on  me,  I have  made  my  countrymen 
more  happy  in  reality;  they  only  in  appearance .” 
Provoked  by  this  observation,  by  which  they 
ought  to  have  been  confounded,  the  judges  pro- 
ceeded to  pass  sentence,  and  condemned  Socra- 
tes to  drink  hemlock.8 

This  atrocious  injustice  excited  the  indigna- 
tion of  his  numerous  friends  and  disciples,  most 
of  whom  had  accompanied  him  to  the  court; 
but  it  awakened  no  other  passion  in  the  illus- 
trious sage  than  that  of  pity  for  the  blind  pre- 
judices of  the  Athenians.  He  then  addressed 
that  part  of  the  court  who  had  been  favourable 
to  him,  or  rather  to  themselves,  since  they  had 
avoided  the  misfortune  of  passing  an  unjust  sen- 
tence, which  would  have  disgraced  and  imbit- 
tered  the  latest  moment  of  their  lives.  “ He 
considered  them  as  friends  with  whom  he  would 
willingly  converse  for  a moment,  upon  the  event 
which  had  happened  to  him,  before  he  was  sum- 
moned to  death.  From  the  commencement  of 
the  prosecution,  an  unusual  circumstance,  he 
ooserved,  had  attended  all  his  words  and  ac- 
tions, and  every  step  which  he  had  taken  in  the 
whole  course  of  his  trial.  The  doemOn,  who  on 
ordinary  occasions  had  ever  been  so  watchful 
to  restrain  him,  when  he  prepared  to  say  or  do 
any  thing  improper  or  hurtful,  had  never  once 
withheld  him,  during  the  whole  progress  of 
this  affair,  from  following  the  bent  of  his  own 
inclination.  For  this  reason  he  was  apt  to 
suspect  that  the  fate  which  the  court  had 
decreed  him,  although  they  meant  it  for  an  evil, 
was  to  him  a real  good.  If  to  die  was  only  to 
change  the  scene,  must  it  not  be  an  advantage  to 
remove  from  these  pretended  judges  to  Minos, 
Rhadamanthus,  and  other  real  judges,  who, 
through  their  love  of  justice,  had  been  exalted 
by  the  divinity  to  this  important  function  of 
government  ? What  delight  to  live  and  converse 
with  the  immortal  heroes  and  poets  of  antiquity! 
It  becomes  you  also,  my  friends!  to  be  of  good 
comfort  with  regard  to  death,  since  no  evil,  in 
life  or  death,  can  befall  virtuous  men,  whose 
true  interest  is  ever  the  concern  of  heaven.  For 


sufficient  skill  and  fidelity,  in  order  to  illustrate  one  point 

much  insisted  on  by  Socrates,  “ That  it  was  better  for  him 

to  die  than  to  live.”  Xenoph.  Apol.  sub  init. 

7 Plato  Apol.  8 Ibid. 


my  part  I p.m  persuadtd  that  it  is  better  for  me 
to  die  than  to  live,  and  therefore  am  not  offended 
with  my  judges.  I entreat  you  all  to  behave 
towards  my  sons,  when  they -attain  the  years  of 
reason,  as  I have  done  to  you,  not  ceasing  to 
blame  and  accuse  them,  when  they  prefer  wealth 
or  pleasure,  or  any  other  frivolous  object,  to  the 
inestimable  worth  of  virtue.  If  they  think 
highly  of  their  own  merit,  while  in  fact  it  is  of 
little  value,  reproach  them  severely,  Athenians ! 
as  1 have  done  you.  By  so  doing  you  will 
behave  justly  to  me  and  to  my  sons.  It  is 
now  time  for  us  to  part.  I go  to  die,  you  to 
live ; but  which  is  best,  none  but  the  divinity 
knows. ”9 

It  is  not  wonderful  that  the  disciples  of  So- 
crates should  have  believed  the  events  of  his 
extraordinary  life,  and  especially  its  concluding 
scene,  to  be  regulated  by  the  interposition  of  a 
particular  providence.10  Every  circumstance 
conspired  to  evince  his  unalterable  firmness, 
and  display  his  inimitable  virtue.  It  happened, 
before  the  day  of  his  trial,  that  the  high-priest 
had  crowned  the  stem  of  the  vessel,  which  was 
annually  sent  to  Delos,  to  commemorate  by 
grateful  acknowledgments  to  Apollo,  the  tri- 
umphant return  of  Theseus  from  Crete,  and 
the  happy  deliverance  of  Athens  from  a dis- 
graceful tribute.11  This  ceremony  announced 
the  commencement  of  the  festival,  which  ended 
with  the  return  of  the  vessel ; and,  during  the 
intervening  time,  which  was  consecrated  to  the 
honour  of  Apollo,  it  was  not  lawful  to  inflict 
any  capital  punishment.  Contrary  winds  pro- 
tracted the  ceremony  thirty  days,  during  which 
Socrates  lay  in  prison,  and  in  fetters.  His 
friends  daily  visited  him,  repairing,  at  the  dawn, 
to  the  prison  gate,  and  impatiently  waiting  till 
it  opened.  Their  conversation  turned  on  the 
same  subjects  which  had  formerly  occupied 
them;  but  afforded  not  that  pure  unmixed 
pleasure  which  they  usually  derived  from  the 
company  of  Socrates.  It  occasioned,  however, 
nothing  of  that  gloom  which  is  naturally  ex- 
cited by  the  presence  of  a friend  under  sentence 
of  death.  They  felt  a certain  pleasing  melan- 
choly, a mixed  sensation  of  sorrow  and  delight, 
for  which  no  language  has  assigned  a name.12 

When  the  fatal  vessel  arrived  in  the  harbour 
of  Sunium,  and  was  hourly  expected  in  the 
Piraeus,  Crito,  the  most  confidential  of  the 


9 Plato  Apol.  sub  fin. 

10  According  to  Plato  nothing  happened  in  this  transac- 
tion Sax;  noigxg.  Plat.  Apol.  Yet  in  the  l’hsedo. 
sub.  init.  he  says,  rvy vj  rig  xut to,  to  Ekcxgxrif  ! rvviGn.  But 

here  refers  not  to  the  cause,  but  to  the  effect;  not  to 
blind  chance,  but  to  an  unaccountable  disposition  of  events 
produced  by  a particular  interposition  of  the  divinity.  In 
this  sense  the  word  is  used  not  only  by  philosophers  but 
orators,  particularly  Demosthenes,  as  we  shall  see  below. 

11  See  p.  18. 

12  This  is  admirably  described  by  Plato:  A kkx  *T£%v<oy 

XT07TOV  Tl  JUOI  TTxSog  7TXg >fVfXXI  Tlf  «V)S>tf  XgXITtS X7T0TI 

tv) £ viSoviif  (rvyxexgx/xivtf  ofxou  xxi  tvis  Kvtt »f 5 . The  follow- 
ing circumstances  are  inimitable:  Kx»  t*vt£j  o*  7rxg ovrig 
irysSov  ti  ouTuv  Siexsi/usix,  ttoti  /usv  yekuivTe(f  sviots  Si 
SxxgvpvoTif  eif  Si  S ixQigovrias  AjroWwi'og Of • O*<r0e» 

yxg  nv  uvSgx  xxi  too  Tg07nv  Moron.  Phaulo.  viii.  c.  ii. 
Socrates  nlone  felt  none  of  these  sensations  ; but  as  Mon- 
taigne, who  had  seized  his  true  character,  says,  Et  qui  ne 
reconnoisse  en  luy,  non  sulement  de  la  fermet6  et  de  la  con- 
stance  (cYtoit  son  assiette  ordinaire  que  cellela)  mais  je  ne 
scay  quel  contentcment  nouveau  ct  uno  allegresse  enjou6e 
en  bos  propos  et  facons  dernieres. 


272 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE.  7 Y*  [Chap. 


disciples  of  Socrates,1  first  brought  the  melan- 
cholly  intelligence;  and,  moved  by- the  near 
danger  of  his  admired  friend*  ventured  to  pro- 
pose a clandestine  escape,  showing^iim  at  the 
same  time  that  he  had  collected  a sufficient  sum 
of  money  to  corrupt  the  fidelity  of  his  keepers. 
This  unmanly  proposal,  which  nothing  but'tlie 
ondistinguishing  ardour  of  friendship  could 
excuse,  Socrates  answered  in  a vein  of  plea- 
santry, which  showed  the  perfect  freedom  of 
his  mind,  “ In  what  country,  O Crito  ! can  1 
escape  death  ? where  shall  I fly  to  elude  this 
irrevocable  doom,  passed  on  all  human  kind?” 
To  Apollodorus,  a man  of  no  great  depth  of  un- 
derstanding, but  his  affectionate  and  zealous 
admirer,  who  said,  “ That  what  grieved  him 
beyond  measure  was,  that  such  a man  should 
perish  unjustly,”  he  replied,  stroking  the  head 
of  his  friend,  “And  would  you  be  less  grieved, 
O Apollodorus!  were  I deserving  of  death?”5 
When  his  friends,  and  Crito  especially,  insisted, 
“ That  it  would  be  no  less  ungenerous  than  im- 
prudent, in  compliance  with  the  hasty  resolu- 
tion of  a malignant  or  misguided  multitude,  to 
render  his  wife  a widow,  his  children  orphans, 
his  disciples  for  ever  miserable  and  forlorn,  and 
conjured  him,  by  every  thing  sacred,  to  save  a 
life  so  inestimably  precious;”  Socrates  assumed 
a tone  more  serious,  recalled  the  maxims  which 
he  professed,  and  the  doctrines  which  he  had 
ever  inculcated,  “ That  how  unjustly  soever  we 
were  treated,  it  cbuld  never  be  our  interest  to 
practice  injustice,  much  less  to  retort  the  in- 
juries of  our  parents  or  our  country ; and  to 
teach,  by  our  example,  disobedience  to  the 
laws.”  The  strength  of  his  arguments,  and 
still  more,  the  unalterable  firmness  and  cheerful 
serenity  that  appeared  in  his  looks,  words,  and 
actions,3  silenced  the  struggling  emotions  of  his 
disciples.  The  dignity  of  virtue  elevated  their 
souls ; they  parted  with  tears  of  inexpressible 
admiration,  and  with  a firm  purpose  to  see 
their  master  earlier  than  usual  on  the  fatal 
morning. 

Having  arrived  at  the  prison-gate,  they  were 
desired  to  wait  without,  because  the  Eleven  (so 
the  delicacy  of  Athens  styled  the  executioners  of 
public  justice)  unloosed  the  fetters  of  Socrates, 
and  announced  to  him  his  death  before  the 
setting  of  the  sun.  They  had  not  waited  long, 
when  they  were  desired  to  enter.  They  found 
Socrates  just  relieved  from  the  weight  of  his 
bonds,  attended  by  his  wife  Xantippe,  who 
bore  in  her  arms  his  infant  son.  At  their  ap- 
pearance, she  exclaimed,  “Alas!  Socrates,  here 
come  your  friends,  whom  you  for  the  last  time 
behold,  and  who  for  the  last  time  behold  you!” 
Socrates,  looking  at  Crito,  desired  some  one  to 
conduct  her  home.  She  departed,  beating  her 
breast,  and  lamenting  with  that  clamorous  sor- 
row natural  to  her  sex4  and  her  character. 

Socrates,  mean  while,  reclining  on  the  couch 
with  his  usual  composure,  drew  his  leg  towards 
him,  and  gently  rubbing  the  part  which  had 


1 Finding  Socrates  in  a profound  sleep,  he  reposed  him- 
self by  his  side  till  he  awoke.  Plat.  ibid. 

2 Xenoph.  et  Plat.  ibid. 

3 K*«  D/xux<ri  XXI  trxwxn  xxi  lsx$i<rpxri 
Xenoph.  Apol. 

4 Bowrxv  t i xxi  xotto,u(vt$  ; and  a little  above,  “o»* 
*>)  nuSxo-t  ai  yuv anxif.”  Phaodo,  sect.  iii. 


keen  galled  by  the  fetters,  remarked  the  won  * 
derful  connection  between  what  men  call  plea- 
sure, and  its  opposite,  pain.  The  one  sensa- 
tion, he  observed  (as  just  happened  to  his  leg 
after  being  delivered  from  the  smart  of  the 
irons,)  was  generally  followed  by  the  other. 
Xeither  of  them  could  long  exist  apart ; they 
are  seldom  pure  and  unmixed ; and  whoever 
feels  the  one,  may  be  sure  that  he  will  soon  feel 
the  other.  “ I think,  that  had  fiEsop  the  fabulist 
made  this  reflection,  he  would  have  said,  that 
the  divinity,  desirous  to  reconcile  these  opposite 
natures,  but  finding  the  design  impracticable, 
had  at  least  joined  their  summits ; for  which 
reason  pleasure  has  ever  since  dragged  pain 
after  it,  and  pain  pleasure.” 

The  mention  of  fiEsop  recalled  to  Cebes,  the 
Theban,  a conversation  which  he  had  recently 
had  with  Euenus  of  Paros,  a celebrated  elegiac 
poet,  then  resident  in  Athens.5  The  poet  asked 
Cebes,  “ Why  his  master,  who  had  never  before 
addicted  himself  to  poetry,  should  since  his  con- 
finement have  written  a hymn  to  Apollo,  and 
turned  into  verse  several  of  jEsop’s  fables  ?” 
The  Theban  seized  the  present  opportunity  to 
satisfy  himself  in  this  particular,  and  to  acquire 
such  information  as  might  satisfy  Euenus,  who, 
he  assured  Socrates,  would  certainly  repeat  his 
question.  The  illustrious  sage,  whose  inimita- 
ble virtues  were  all  tinged,  or  rather  brightened, 
by  enthusiasm,  desired  Cebes  to  tell  Euenus, 
“ That  it  was  not  with  a view  to  rival  him,  or 
with  a hope  to  excel  his  poetry  (for  that,  he 
knew,  would  not  be  easy,)  that  he  had  begun 
late  in  life  this  new  pursuit.  He  had  attempted 
it  in  compliance  with  a divine  mandate,  which 
frequently  commanded  him  in  dreams  to  culti- 
vate music.  He  had,  therefore,  first  applied  to 
philosophy,  thinking  that  the  greatest  music  ; 
but  since  he  was  under  sentence  of  death,  he 
judged  it  safest  to  try  likewise  the  popular  mu- 
sic, lest  any  thing  should  on  his  part  be  omitted, 
which  the  gods  had  enjoined  him.  For  this 
reason,  he  had  composed  a hymn  to  Apollo, 
whose  festival  was  now  celebrating ; and  not 
being  himself  a mythologist,  had  versified  such 
fablesofiEsop  as  happened  most  readily  to  occur 
to  his  memory.  Tell  this  to  Euenus — bid  him 
farewell ; and  farther,  that  if  he  is  wise,  he  will 
follow  me ; for  I depart,  as  it  is  likely,  to-day ; 
so  the  Athenians  have  ordered  it.” 

The  last  words  introduced  an  important  con- 
versation concerning  suicide,  and  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul.  Socrates  maintained,  that 
though  it  was  better  for  a wise  man  to  die 
than  to  live,  because  there  was  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  he  would  be  happier  in  a future  than 
in  the  present  state  of  existence,  yet  it  could 
never  be  allowable  for  him  to  perish  by  his  own 
hand,  or  even  to  lay  down  life  without  a suffi- 
cient motive,  such  as  that  which  influenced 
himself,  a respectful  submission  to  the  laws  of 
his  country.  This  interesting  discussion  con- 
sumed the  greatest  part  of  the  day.  Socrates 
encouraged  his  disciples  not  to  spare  his  opi- 
nions from  delicacy  to  his  present  situation. 
Those  who  were  of  his  mind  he  exhorted  to 


5 The  following  narrative,  to  the  death  of  Socrates,  is 
entirely  borrowed  from  the  Phaado,  to  which  it  is  therefore 
unnecessary  at  every  moment  to  refer. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


273 


XXI V.] 

persevere.  Entwining  his  hand  in  the  long 
hair  of  Phtedo,  “ These  beautiful  locks,  my  dear 
Phaedo,  you  will  this  day  cut  off  ;5  but  were  I 
in  your  place,  I would  not  again  allow  them  to 
grow,  but  make  a vow  (as  the  Argives  did  in 
a matter  of  infinitely  less  moment)  never  to  re- 
sume the  wonted  ornament  of  my  beauty,  un- 
til I had  confirmed  the  doctrine  of  the  soul’s 
immortality.” 

The  argument  of  Socrates  convinced  and 
consoled  his  disciples,  as  they  have  often  done 
the  learned  and  virtuous  in  succeeding  times. 
“Those  who  had  adorned  their  minds  with  tem- 
perance, justice,  and  fortitude,  and  had  despised 
the  vain  ornaments  and  vain  pleasures  of  the 
body,  could  never  regret  their  separation  from 
this  terrestrial  companion.  And  now,”  con- 
tinued he,  in  the  language  of  tragedy,  “ the 
destined  hour  summons  me  to  death ; it  is  al- 
most time  to  bathe,  and  surely  it  will  be  better 
that  I myself,  before  I drink  the  poison,  should 
perform  this  ceremony,  than  occasion  unneces- 
sary trouble  to  the  women  after  I am  dead.” 
“So  let  it  be,”  said  Crito  ; “but  first  inform  us, 
Socrates,  in  what  we  can  do  you  pleasure,  re- 
specting your  children,  or  any  other  concern.” 
“Nothing  new,  O Crito  ! but  what  I have  al- 
ways told  you.  By  consulting  your  own  hap- 
piness, you  will  act  the  best  part  with  regard  to 
my  children,  to  me,  and  to  all  mankind ; al- 
though you  bind  not  yourselves  by  any  new 
promise.  But  if  you  forsake  the  rules  of  vir- 
tue, which  we  have  just  endeavoured  to  explain, 
you  will  benefit  neither  my  children,  nor  any 
with  whom  you  live,  although  you  should  now 
swear  to  the  contrary.”  Crito  then  asked  him, 
“ How  he  chose  to  be  buried  ?”  “As  you  please, 
provided  I dont  escape  you.”  Saying  this,  he 
smiled,  adding,  that  as  to  his  body , they  might 
bury  it  as  seemed  most  decent,  and  most  suita- 
ble to  the  laws  of  his  country. 

He  then  retired  into  the  adjoining  chamber, 
accompanied  only  by  Crito  ; the  rest  remained 
behind,  like  children  mourning  a father.  When 
he  had  bathed  and  dressed,  his  sons  (one  grown 
up,  and  two  children,)  together  with  his  female 
relations,6  were  admitted  to  him.  He  conversed 
with  them  in  the  presence  of  Crito,  and  then 
returned  to  his  disciples  near  sun-set,  for  he 
tarried  long  within.  Before  he  had  time  to  be- 
gin any  new  subject,  the  keeper  of  the  prison 
entered,  and  standing  near  Socrates,  “ I can- 
not,” said  he,  “accuse  you,  O Socrates  ! of  the 
rage  and  execrations  too  often  vented  against 
me  by  those  here  confined,  to  whom,  by  com- 
mand of  the  magistrates,  I announce  that  it  is 
time  to  drink  the  poison.  Your  fortitude,  mild- 
ness, and  generosity,  exceed  all  that  I have 
ever  witnessed  ; even  now  I know  you  pardon 
me,  since  I act  by  compulsion ; and  as  you  are 
acquainted  with  the  purport  of  my  message, 


5 The  ceremony  of  cutting  off  *he  hair  at  funerals  wag 
mentioned  above,  p.  217,  where  the  transaction  of  the  Ar- 
gives, alluded  to  in  the  text,  is  related. 

6 The  oiKiise»  ywxixt;  of  Plato.  This  expression  seems 
to  have  given  rise  to  the  absurd  fable,  that  Socrates  had 
two  wives,  mentioned  bv  Diogenes  Laertius,  and  others; 
and  the  absurd  explication  of  that  irregularity,  “that  the 
Athenians,  after  the  pestilence,  had  allowed  polygamy, 
at  least  bigamy,  to  repair  the  ravages  of  that  dreadful 
malady.” 

2 M 


farewell,  and  bear  your  fate  with  as  much  pa- 
tience as  possible.”  At  these  words  the  execu- 
tioner, hardened  as  he  was  in  scenes  of  death, 
dissolved  in  tears,  and  turning  from  Socrates, 
went  out.  The  latter  following  him  with  his 
eye,  replied,  “And  you  also,  farewell ; as  to  me, 
I shall  obey  your  instructions.”  Then  looking 
at  his  disciples,  “How  truly  polite,”  said  he, 
“ is  the  man  IT  During  my  confinement,  he  of- 
ten visited  and  conversed  with  me;  and  now, 
how  generously  does  he  lament  my  death  ! But 
let  the  poison  be  brought,  that  we  may  obey 
his  orders.” 

Crito  then  said,  “ Still,  O Socrates ! there  is 
time;  the  sun  still  brightens  the  tops  of  the 
mountains.  Many  have  I known,  who  have 
drank  the  poison  late  in  the  night,  after  a luxu- 
rious supper  and  generous  wines,  and  lastly, 
after  enjoying  the  embraces  of  those  with  whom 
they  were  enamoured.6  But  hasten  not ; it  is 
yet  time.”  “ With  good  reason,”  said  Socrates, 
these  persons  did  what  you  say,  because  they 
believed  thereby  to  be  gainers ; and  with  good 
reason  I shall  act  otherwise,  because  I am  con- 
vinced that  I should  gain  nothing  but  ridicule 
by  an  over-anxious  solicitude  for  life,  when  it  is 
just  ready  to  leave  me.”  Crito  then  made  a 
sign  to  the  boy  who  waited  ; he  went,  ground 
the  hemlock,  and  returned  with  him  who  was 
to  administer  it.  Socrates  perceiving  his  arri- 
val, “ Tell  me,”  said  he,  “for  you  are  experi- 
enced in  such  matters,  what  have  I to  do?” 
Nothing  further  than  to  walk  in  the  apartment 
till  your  limbs  feel  heavy ; then  repose  your- 
self on  the  couch.”  Socrates  then  taking  the 
cup  in  his  hand,  and  looking  at  him  with  inef- 
fable serenity,  “ Say,  as  to  this  beverage,  is  it 
lawful  to  employ  any  part  of  it  in  libation  ?”  The 
other  replied,  “There  is  no  more  than  what  is 
proper  to  drink.”  “ But  it  is  proper,”  re- 
joined Socrates,  “and  necessary,  if  we  would 
perform  our  duty,  to  pray  the  gods  that  our 
passage  hence  may  be  fortunate.”  So  saying, 
he  was  silent  for  a moment,  and  then  drank  the 
poison  with  an  unaltered  countenance.  Min- 
gling gentleness  with  authority,  he  stilled  the 
noisy  lamentations  of  his  friends,  saying,  that 
in  order  to  avoid  such  unmanly  complaints,  he 
had  before  dismissed  the  women.  As  the  poi- 
son began  to  gain  his  vitals,  he  uncovered  his 
face,  and  said  to  Crito,  “We  owe  a cock  to 
jEsculapius ; sacrifice  it,  and  neglect  it  not.” 
Crito  asked,  if  he  had  any  thing  further  to 
command?  But  he  made  no  reply.  A little 
after,  he  was  in  agony — Crito  shut  his  eyes. 
Thus  died  Socrates;  whom,  his  disciples  de- 
clared, they  could  never  cease  to  remember, 
nor  remembering,  cease  to  admire.  “ If  any 
man,”  says  Xenophon  inimitably,  “if  any  man, 
a lover  of  virtue,  ever  found  a more  profitable 
companion  than  Socrates,  I deem  that  man  the 
happiest  of  human  kind.”7 8 9 

The  current  of  popular  passions  appears  no- 


7 O «v9g«nr sj,  the  term  for  the  executioner. 

8 "Evyyivl/x'vov  S yy  iviovg  iuv  xv  Tvj'uxri  ewiSo/ttOovrif. 
Phffiil.  xlviii.  What  an  extraordinary  picture  of  Athe- 
nian manners! 

!)  Plato  speaks  with  equal  feeling,  ofrather  enthusiasm. 

Kxl  y X(>  TO  10-5*1,  xxi  xutov  kiycvrx,  xxi  mXXov 

xxouovtx,  i/uotyi  xiti  rxvruiv  qSitrTo v.  Phasd.  C.  ii. 


274 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


where  more  uniform  than  in  the  history  of 
Athens.  The  factitious  resentment  excited 
against  Socrates  by  such  improbable  calumnies, 
as  even  those  who  were  the  readiest  to  receive 
and  to  disseminate,  could  never  seriously  believe, 
extended  itself  with  rapidity  to  his  numerous 
friends  and  adherents.  But  fortunately  for  the 
interest  of  letters  and  humanity,  the  endemic 
contagion  was  confined  within  the  Athenian 
frontiers.  Plato,  Antisthenes,  iEsekines,  Crito- 
bulus,  and  other  Athenians,  wisely  eluded  a 
storm  which  they  had  not  strength  to  resist. 
Some  took  refuge  in  Thebes  with  their  fellow- 
disciples,  Simmias,  Cebes,  and  Phasdondas ; 
others  found  protection  in  Megara  from  Euclid 
and  Terpsion.  This  persecution  of  philosophy, 
however,  was  accidental  and  transient.  Min- 
gled sentiments  of  pity,  shame,  and  resentment, 
soon  gave  a new  direction  to  the  popular  fury, 
which  raged  with  more  destructive,  yet  far 
juster  cruelty,  against  the  accusers  and  judges 
of  Socrates.1  Many  were  driven  into  exile; 
many  were  put  to  death ; several  perished  in 
despair,  by  their  own  hands.  The  illustrious 
sage  was  honoured  by  signal  monuments  of 
public  admiration;2  his  fame,  like  the  hardy 
oak,  derived  vigour  from  years  ;3  and  increased 
from  age  to  age,  till  the  superstition  of  the 
Athenians  at  length  worshipped,  as  a god,4  him 
whom  their  injustice  condemned  as  a criminal. 

The  persecution,  the  death,  and  the  honours 
of  Socrates,  all  conspired  to  animate  the  affec- 
tion, and  to  increase  the  zeal,  of  his  disciples. 
Their  number  had  been  great  in  his  lifetime  : 
it  became  greater  after  his  death;  since  those 
who  followed,  and  those  who  rejected  his  doc- 
trines, alike  styled  themselves  Socratic  philoso- 
phers. His  name  was  thus  adopted  and  pro- 
faned by  many  sects,  who,  while  they  differed 
widely  from  each  other,  universally  changed, 
exaggerated,  or  perverted  the  tenets  of  their 
common  master.  Among  the  genuine  followers 
of  Socrates,  Xenophon,  as  will  appear  hereaf- 
ter, unquestionably  merits  the  first  place.  Plato 
comes  next,  yet  separated  by  a long  interval. 
In  the  same  class  may  be  ranked  Cebes  the 
Theban,  iEsehines,  Crito,  and  Simon,  Athe- 
nians. The  table  of  Cebes,  which  has  been 
transmitted  to  modern  times,  contains  a beau- 
tiful and  affecting  picture  of  human  life,  de- 
lineated with  accuracy  of  judgment,  and  illu- 
minated by  the  splendour  of  sentiment.  Three 
remaining  dialogues  of  iEsehines  breathe  the 
same  sublime  spirit,  and  abound  in  irresistible 
persuasions  to  virtue : “ That  happiness  is  at- 
tained, not  by  gratifying,  but  by  moderating 
the  passions;  that  he  alone  is  rich  and  power- 
ful, whose  faculties  exceed  his  desires ; that 
virtue  is  true  wisdom,  and  being  attended  with 
the  only  secure  happiness  which  can  be  enjoyed 
in  the  present  life,  must,  according  to  the  unal- 
terable laws  of  Providence,  be  crowned  with 
immortal  felicity  hereafter.” 


1 Plutarch,  de  Invid.  p.  538. 

2 Statues,  altars,  even  a chapel  called  Socrateion.  Vide 
Diogen.  in  Socrat. 

3 Crescit  occulto,  velut  arbor,  aevo 

Fama  Marcelli Horace. 

4 Or  rather  as  a demi-god  ; but  the  boundaries  were  not 
very  accurately  ascertained,  though  that  is  attempted  by 
Arrian,  in  Expedit.  Alexand.  1.  iv.  p.  86 


[Chap. 

The  remains  of  Cebes  and  jEschines,  and  fai 
more,  as  will  appear  in  the  sequel,  the  copious 
writings  of  Plato  and  Zenophon,  may  enable 
us  to  discriminate  the  philosophy  of  Socrates, 
from  that  of  the  various  sects  who  misrepre- 
sented or  adulterated  his  opinions.  The  estab- 
lishment of  these  sects  belongs  not  to  the  period 
of  history  now  under  our  review.  But  the 
foundation  of  their  respective  tenets,  which  had 
been  laid  in  a former  age,  v/as  confirmed  by 
the  philosophers  who  flourished  in  the  time  of 
Socrates.  Of  these,  the  most  distinguished 
were  Euclid  of  Megara,  Phsdo  of  Elis,  Aris- 
tippus of  Cyrene,  Antisthenes  of  Athens.  The 
two  first  restored  the  captious  logic  of  the 
sophists;  Aristippus  embraced  their  licentious 
morality.  While  the  schools  of  Elis  and  Me- 
gara studied  to  confound  the  understanding, 
that  of  Cyrene  laboured  to  corrupt  the  heart. 
Antisthenes  set  himself  to  oppose  these  perni- 
cious sects,  deriding  the  refined  subtleties  of  the 
sceptics,  and  disdaining  the  mean  pleasures  of 
the  Epicureans.5  To  prefer  the  mind  to  the 
body,  duty  to  interest,  and  virtue  to  pleasure, 
were  the  great  lessons  of  Antisthenes.  Yet 
this  sublime  philosophy  he  carried  to  extrava- 
gance,6 affecting  not  only  to  moderate  and  go- 
vern, but  to  silence  and  extirpate  the  passions, 
and  declaring  bodily  pleasure  not  only  un- 
worthy of  pursuit,  but  a thing  carefully  to  be 
avoided  as  the  greatest  and  most  dangerous  of 
evils.  His  rigid  severity  of  life  deceived  not 
the  penetration  of  Socrates.  The  sage  could 
discern,  that  no  small  share  of  spiritual  pride 
lurked  under  the  tattered  cloak  of  Antisthenes. 

While  philosophy,  true  or  false,  thus  flourish- 
ed in  Greece,  a propitious  destiny  watched  over 
the  imitative  arts,  which  continued,  during  half 
q a century  of  perpetual  wars  and 

131  ‘ 101  revolutions,  to  be  cultivated  with 
equal  assiduity  and  success.  The 
most  distinguished  scholars  of  Phidias  were 
Alcamenes  of  Athens,  and  Agoracritus  of  the 
isle  of  Paros.  They  contended  for  the  prize 
of  sculpture  in  their  respective  statues  of  Ve- 
nus ; and  the  Athenians,  it  is  said,  too  partially 
decided  in  favour  of  their  countryman.  Ago- 
racritus, unwilling  that  his  work  should  remain 
in  a city  where  it  had  met  with  so  little  justice, 
sold  it  to  the  borough  of  Rhamnus.  There  it 
was  beheld  with  admiration,  and  soon  passed 
for  a production  of  Phidias7  himself.  The 
sculptor  Cteselaus  excelled  in  heroes.  He  chose 
noble  subjects,  and  still  farther  ennobled  them 
by  his  art.6  His  contemporary  Patrocles  dis- 
tinguished himself  by  his  statues  of  Olympic 
victors,  and  particularly  of  celebrated  wrestlers. 


5 I anticipate  these  names.  The  scepticism  of  Pyrrho, 
as  will  be  explained  hereafter,  arose  from  the  quibbling 
sophisms  of  the  schools  of  Elis  and  Megara.  Epicurus, 
having  adopted  and  refined  the  selfish  philosophy  of  Aris- 
tippus, had  the  honour  of  distinguishing  by  his  "name,  the 
Epicurean  sect. 

6 His  follower,  Diogenes,  as  will  appear  in  the  sequel, 
pushed  this  extravagance  still  further.  They  both  taught 
in  the  suburb  of  Athens  called  the  Cynosarges,  from  which 
they  and  their  disciples  were  called  Cynics.  In  a subse- 
quent part  of  this  work,  it  will  be  explained,  how  the 
Cynical  philosophy  gave  rise  to  Stoicism,  so  sailed,  because 
Zeno  and  his  followers  taught  at  Athens  in  the  “Stoa 
ptEcile,”  the  painted  portico. 

7 Vid.  Suid.  et  Hesych.  voc.  P*>*vevf. 

8 Plin.  1.  xxxv. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


275 


XX1V.J 

Assisted  by  Canachus,  he  made  the  greatest 
Work  mentioned  during  the  period  now  under 
our  review,  thirty-one  figures  of  bronze,  repre- 
senting the  respective  commanders  of  the  se- 
veral cities  or  republics,  who,  under  the  con- 
duct of  Lysander,  obtained  the  memorable 
victory  of  iEgos  Potamos.  They  were  erected 
in  the  temple  of  Delphian  Apollo,  together  with 
the  statue  of  Lysander  himself,  crowned  by 
Neptune.  Inferior  artists9  were  employed  to 
copy  the  statues  of  various  divinities,  dedicated 
at  the  same  time,  and  in  the  same  place,  by  the 
Lacedaemonian  conqueror. 

It  appears  not,  however,  that,  during  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  any  new  style  was  attempt- 
ed either  in  sculpture  or  painting.  The  artists 
of  that  period  contented  themselves  with  walk- 
ing in  the  footsteps  of  their  great  predecessors. 
The  same  observation  applies  to  music  and 
poetry ; but  eloquence,  on  the  contrary,  receiv- 
ed a new  form,  and  flourishing  amidst  the  tu- 
mults of  war  and  the  contentions  of  active  life, 
produced  that  concise,  rapid,  and  manly  cha- 
racter of  composition  which  thenceforth  distin- 
guished the  Attic  writers.  The  works  of  Ho- 
mer, Sophocles,  and  Pindar,  left  few  laurels  to 
be  gained  by  their  successors.  It  was  impossi- 
ble to  excel,  it  was  dangerous  to  rival  them. 
Great  genius  was  required  to  start,  without  dis- 
grace, in  a career  where  such  candidates  had 
run.  But  great  genius  is  rare,  and  commonly 
disdains  imitation  ; and  the  first  poetical  prizes 
being  already  carried  off,  men  who  felt  the  ani- 
mation and  vigour  of  their  own  powers,  natu- 
rally directed  them  to  objects  which  possessed 
the  charms  of  novelty,  and  promised  the  hope 
of  excellence. 

Even  in  prosaic  composition  the  merit  and 
fame  of  Herodotus  and  Democritus19  (not  to 
mention  authors  more  ancient)  opposed  very 
formidable  obstacles  to  the  ambition  of  their 
successors.  In  a work  no  less  splendid  than 
important,  the  father  of  profane  history  had 
deduced  the  transactions  between  the  Greeks 
and  Barbarians,  from  the  earliest  accounts  till 
the  conclusion  of  the  Persian  war ; a work  in- 
cluding the  history  of  many  centuries,  and 
comprehending  the  greatest  kingdoms  and  em- 
pires of  the  ancient  world.  This  extensive 
subject  was  handled  with  order  and  dignity. 
The  episodes  were  ingeniously  interwoven  with 
the  principal  action.  The  various  parts  of  the 
narrative  were  so  skilfully  combined,  that  they 
mutually  reflected  light  on  each  other.  Geo- 
graphy, manners,  religion,  laws,  and  arts,  en- 
tered into  the  plan  of  his  work  ; and  it  is  re- 
markable that  the  earliest  of  historians  agrees 
more  nearly,  as  to  the  design  and  form  of  his 
undertaking,  with  the  enlightened  writers  of 
the  present  century,  than  any  historical  author 
in  the  long  series  of  intervening  ages. 

His  language  was  the  picture  of  his  mind ; 


9 See  their  names  in  Pausan.  1.  x.  p.  fi 25,  ct  seq. 

10  Itaque  video  visum  esse  nonnullis  Platonis  et  Demo- 
criti  locutionem,  etsi  absit  a versu,  tamon  quod  incitatius 
feratur,  et  clarissimis  verborum  luminibus  utatur,  potius 
pofima  putandum,  quam  comicorum  poetarum.  Cicero  ad 
M.  Brutum  Orator,  c.  xx.  See  alsode  Orator.  1.  i.  c.  xi.  It 
is  impossible  to  read  Lucretius,  without  fancying,  if  we  re- 
collect Cicero’s  criticisms  on  Democritus,  that  we  are  pe- 
rusing the  long  lost  works  of  that  great  philosopher. 


natural,  flowing,  persuasive  ; lofty  on  great  oc- 
sionsrn  affecting  in  scenes  of  distress,12  perspi- 
cuous in  narration,  animated  in  description. 
Yet  this  admired  writer  has  sometimes  inserted 
reports  romantic  and  incredible.  Of  many,  in- 
deed, of  the  fables  of  Herodotus,  as  ignorance 
conceited  of  its  knowledge  long  affected  to  call 
them,  subsequent  experience  has  proved  the 
reality  ; modern  discoveries  and  voyages  seem 
purposely  directed  to  vindicate  the  fame  of  a 
writer,  whom  Cicero13  dignifies  with  the  appel- 
lation of  Prince  of  Historians.  Of  other  won- 
drous tales  which  he  relates,  his  own  discern- 
ment showed  him  the  futility.  Whatever  is 
contrary  to  the  analogy  of  nature  he  rejects 
with  scorn.  He  speaks  with  contempt  of  the 
jEgepodes,  and  of  the  one-eyed  Arimaspi,  and 
of  other  ridiculous  and  absurd  fictions  which 
have  been  adopted,  however,  by  some  credulous 
writers  evep  in  the  eighteenth  century.  But 
Herodotus  thought  himself  bound  in  duty  to 
relate  what  he  had  heard,  not  always  to  be- 
lieve what  he  related.14  Having  travelled  into 
Egypt  and  the  east,  he  recounts,  with  fidelity, 
the  reports  current  in  those  remote  countries. 
And  his  mind  being  opened  and  enlarged  by  an 
extensive  view  of  men  and  manners,  he  had 
learned  to  set  bounds  to  his  disbelief,  as  well 
as  to  his  credulity.  Yet  it  must  not  be  dissem- 
bled that  the  fabulous  traditions,  in  which  he 
too  much  abounds,  give  the  air  of  romance  to 
his  history.  Though  forming,  comparatively, 
but  a small  part  of  the  work,  they  assume  mag- 
nitude and  importance,  when  invidiously  de- 
tached from  it.15  It  thus  seems  as  if  this  most 
instructive  author  had  written  with  a view  ra- 
ther to  amuse  the  fancy  than  to  inform  the  un- 
derstanding. The  lively  graces  of  his  diction 
tend  to  confirm  this  supposition.  His  mode  of 
composition  may  be  regarded  as  the  interme- 
diate shade  between  epic  poetry  and  history. 
Neither  concise  nor  vehement,  the  general  cha- 
racter of  his  style  is  natural,  copious,  and  flow- 
ing ;16  and  his  manner  throughout  breathes 
the  softness  of  Ionia,  rather  than  the  active 
contention  of  Athens. 


11  Longinus  cites  as  an  example  of  the  sublime,  Hero- 
dot.  1.  vii.  c.  lx.  The  whole  expedition  of  Xerxes  is  writ- 
ten with  an  elevation  becoming  the  subject. 

12  See  the  affecting  story  of  Adrastus,  I.  i.  c.  xxxv. 

13  L.  ii.  de  Orator. 

14  Eyu>  Ss  o^eiA-co  \.sysivrx  KBy0feevx,7reiDe<r9ctt  yt 
ou  vxvTctTrcto-i  o$s»\<u.  Herodot.  1.  vii.  c.  clii.  p.  433. 

15  The  reproaches  which  Juvenal  (Satyr.  10.)  and  PIu 
tarch  (in  his  treatise  entitled  the  Malignity  of  Herodotus) 
make  to  this  great  historian,  are  fully  answered  by  Aldus 
Manutips,  Cainerarius,  and  Stephanus.  Plutarch,  forsooth, 
was  offended  that  his  countrymen  made  so  bad  a figure  in 
the  history  of  Herodotus.  The  criticism  of  Dionysius  of 
Halicarnassus,  a writer  of  more  taste  and  discernment  than 
Plutarch,  does  ample  justice  to  the  father  of  history. 

16  Aristotle,  in  his  Rhetoric,  1.  iii.  c.  ix.  distinguishes  two 
kinds  of  style ; the  continuous  and  the  periodic.  The  for- 
mer flows  on  without,  interruption,  until  the  sense  is  com- 
plete. The  latter  is  divided  by  stops,  into  due  proportions 
of  duration,  which  are  easily  felt  by  the  oar,  and  measured 
by  the  mind.  The  former  style  is  tiresome,  because  in  every 
thing  men  delight  to  sec  the  end ; even  racers,  when  they 
pass  the  goal,  nre  quickly  out  of  breath.  Herodotus  is  the 
most  remarkable  instance  of  the  continuous  stylo.  In  his 
time  scarcely  any  other  was  in  use;  but  it  is  now  entirely 
laid  aside.  So  far  Aristotle,  who  seems  rather  unjust  to 
Herodotus,  sinco  many  parts  of  his  work  arc  sufficiently 
adorned  by  periods,  although  the  loose  style  in  general  pre- 
vails. But  the  partiality  of  his  countryman  Dionysius  com- 
pletely avenges  the  wrong3  of  Herodotus . 


276 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


In  this  light  Herodotus  appeared  to  the  Athe- 
nians in  the  age  immediately  succeeding  his 
own.  At  the  Olympic  games  he  had  read  his 
work  with  universal  applause.  Thucydides, 
then  a youth,  wept  mixed  tears  of  wonder 
and  emulation.1  His  father  was  complimented 
on  the  generous  ardour  of  a son,  whose  early 
inquietude  at  another’s  fame  announced  a cha- 
racter formed  for  great  designs  and  illustrious 
exertions.  But  Herodotus  had  pre-occupied  the 
subjects  best  adapted  to  historical  composition ; 
and  it  was  not  till  the  commencement  of  the 
memorable  war  of  twenty-seven  years,  that 
Thucydides,  amidst  the  dangers  which  threat- 
ened his  country,  rejoiced  in  a theme  worthy  to 
exercise  the  genius,  and  call  forth  the  whole 
vigour  of  an  historian.  From  the  breaking  out 
of  this  war,  in  which  he  proved  an  unfortunate 
actor,  he  judged  that  it  would  be  the  greatest, 
the  most  obstinate,  and  important  that  had  ever 
been  carried  on.  He  began  therefore  to  collect, 
and  treasure  up,  such  materials  as  were  neces- 
sary for  describing  it ; in  the  selection,  as  well 
as  in  the  distribution  of  which,  he  afterwards 
discovered  an  evident  purpose  to  rival  and  sur- 
pass Herodotus.  Too  much  indulgence  for  fic- 
tion had  disgraced  the  narrative  of  the  latter  : 
Thucydides  professed  to  be  animated  purely  by 
the  love  of  truth.  “ His  relation  was  not  in- 
tended to  delight  the  ears  of  an  Olympic  audi- 
ence. By  a faithful  account  of  the  past,  he 
hoped  to  assist  his  readers  in  conjecturing  the 
future.  While  human  nature  remained  the 
same,  his  work  would  have  its  use,  being  built 
on  such  principles  as  rendered  it  an  everlasting 
possession,  not  a contentious  instrument  of  tem- 
porary applause.”2  The  execution  correspond- 
ed with  this  noble  design.  In  his  introductory 
discourse  he  runs  over  the  fabulous  ages  of 
Greece,  carefully  separating  the  ore  from  the 
dross.  In  speaking  of  Thrace,  he  touches,  with 
proper  brevity,  on  the  fable  of  Tereus  and 
Progne  ;3  and  in  describing  Sicily,  glances  at 
the  Cyclops  and  Lestrigons.  But  he  recedes, 
as  it  were,  with  disgust,  from  such  monstrous 
phantoms,  and  immediately  returns  to  the  main 
purpose  of  his  history.  In  order  to  render  it  a 
faithful  picture  of  the  times,  he  professes  to  re- 
late not  only  what  was  done,  but  what  was 
said,  by  inserting  such  speeches  of  statesmen 
and  generals  as  he  had  himself  heard,  or  as 
had  been  reported  to  him  by  others.  This  va- 
luable part  of  his  work  was  imitated  by  all  fu- 
ture historians,  till  the  improvement  of  military 
discipline  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  corruption 
of  manners  on  the  other,  rendered  such  speeches 
superfluous.  Eloquence  once  served  as  an  in- 
centive to  courage,  and  an  instrument  of  govern- 
ment. But  the  time  was  to  arrive,  when  the 
dead  principles  of  fear  and  interest  should  alone 
predominate.  In  most  countries  of  Europe, 
despotism  has  rendered  public  assemblies  a 
dramatic  representation ; and  in  the  few,  where 
men  are  not  enslaved  by  a master,  they  are  the 
slaves  of  pride,  of  avarice,  and  of  faction. 

Thucydides,  doubtless,  had  his  model  in  the 
short  and  oblique  speeches  of  Herodotus  ; but 


1 Suidas,  Pholius,  Marcellinua. 

2 Thucydid.  in  Proem. 

3 Ovid.  Metam.  1.  vi. 


[Chap. 

in  this  particular  he  must  be  acknowledged  far 
to  surpass  his  patron.  In  the  distribution  of 
his  subject,  however,  he  fell  short  of  that  wri- 
ter. Thucydides,  aspiring  at  extraordinary  ac- 
curacy, divides  his  work  by  summers  and  win- 
ters, relating  apart  the  events  comprehended  in 
each  period  of  six  months.  But  this  space  of 
time  is  commonly  too  short  for  events  deserv- 
ing the  notice  of  history,  to  be  begun,  carried 
on,  and  completed.  His  narrative,  therefore,  is 
continually  broken  and  interrupted  : curiosity 
is  raised  without  being  satisfied,  and  the  reader 
is  transported,  as  by  magic,  from  Athens  to 
Corcyra,  from  Lesbos  to  Peloponnesus,  from 
the  coast  of  Asia  to  Sicily.  Thucydides  follows 
the  order  of  time;  Herodotus  the  connection 
of  events : in  the  language  of  a great  critic, 
the  skill  and  taste  of  Herodotus  have  reduced 
a very  complicated  argument  into  one  harmo- 
nious whole  ; the  preposterous  industry  of  Thu- 
cydides has  divided  a very  simple  subject  into 
many  detached  parts  and  scattered  limbs  of 
history,  which  it  is  difficult  again  to  reduce  into 
one  regular  body.4  The  same  critic  observes, 
that  Herodotus’s  history  not  only  possesses 
more  art  and  variety,  but  displays  more  gayety 
and  splendour.  A settled  gloom,  doubtless, 
hangs  over  the  events  of  the  Peloponnesian 
war  : but  what  is  the  history  of  all  wars,  but  a 
description  of  crimes  and  calamities?  The  aus- 
tere gravity  of  Thucydides  admirably  corres- 
ponds with  his  subject.  His  majesty  is  worthy 
of  Athens,  when  she  commanded  a thousand 
tributary  republics.  His  concise,  nervous,  and 
energetic  style,  his  abrupt  brevity,  and  elabo- 
rate plainness,  admirably  represent  the  con- 
tentions of  active  life,  and  the  tumult  of  de- 
mocratical  assemblies.  Demosthenes,  whom 
Dionysius  himself  extols  above  all  orators, 
transcribed  eight  times,  not  the  elegant  flowing 
smoothness  of  Herodotus,  but  the  sententious, 
harsh,  and  often  obscure  annals  of  Thucydides.5 

Thucydides  left  his  work  unfinished  in  the 
twenty-first  year  of  the  Peloponnesian  war.  It 
was  continued  by  Xenophon,  who  deduced  the 
revolutions  of  Greece  through  a series  of  forty- 
eight  years  to  the  battle  of  Mantinasa  ; a work 
which  enables  us  to  pursue  the  important  se- 
ries of  Grecian  history. 

To  a reader  accustomed  to  contemplate  the 
uniform  and  consistent  operations  of  modem 
policy,  it  must  appear  extraordinary  that,  at  the 
distance  of  less  than  two  years  from  the  sub- 
version of  the  Athenian  democracy  by  a Spar- 
tan general,  the  same  turbulent  form  of  go- 
vernment should  have  been  re-established  with 
new  splendour,  by  the  approbation,  and  even 
the  assistance,  of  a Spartan  king.  The  reasons 
explained  in  the  preceding  chapter  may  lessen, 
but  cannot  altogether  remove,  his  surprise  ; and, 
in  order  fully  to  comprehend  the  causes  of  this 
event,  it  is  necessary  to  consider  not  only  the 
internal  factions  which  distracted  the  councils 
of  Sparta,  but  the  external  objects  of  ambition 
or  revenge  which  solicited  and  employed  her 
arms. 

While  the  fortune  of  the  Peloponnesian  war 
still  hung  in  doubtful  suspense,  the  peaceful  in- 

4 Dionvs.  Halicarn.  de  Herodot.  et  Thucydid. 

5 Ibid.' 


XXIV-1 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


277 


habitants  of  Elis  often  testified  an  inclination  to 
preserve  an  inoffensive  neutrality,  that  they 
might  apply,  with  undivided  attention,  to  their 
happy  rural  labours,  to  the  administration  of 
the  Olympian  festival,  and  to  the  indispensable 
worship  of  those  gods  and  heroes  to  whom  their 
territory  was  peculiarly  consecrated.  The  con- 
tinual solicitation  of  Sparta,  and  the  unprovoked 
violence  of  Athens,  determined  the  Elians  to 
declare  for  the  former  republic;  but  of  all  the 
Spartan  allies  they  were  the  most  lukewarm  and 
indifferent.  In  time  of  action  their  assistance 
was  languid  and  ineffectual,  and  when  the  regu- 
lar return  of  the  Olympic  solemnity  suspended 
the  course  of  hostilities,  they  showed  little  par- 
tiality or  respect  for  their  powerful  confederates, 
whose  warlike  and  ambitious  spirit  seemed  in- 
compatible with  the  enjoyment  of  their  own 
contemplative  tranquillity.  This  omission  of 
duty  was  followed  by  the  actual  trangression 
of  the  Elians.  In  conjunction  with  the  Man- 
tinaeans  and  Argives  they  deserted  the  alliance 
of  Sparta;  defended  themselves  by  arms  against 
the  usurpations  of  that  republic;  and  excluded 
its  members  from  consulting  the  oracle,  and 
from  partaking  of  the  games  and  sacrifices  ce- 
lebrated at  Olympia.6  These  injuries  passed 
with  impunity  until  the  successful  issue  of  the 
war  of  Peloponnesus  disposed  the  Spartans  to 
feel  with  sensibility,  and  enabled  them  severely 
to  chastise  every  insult  that  had  been  offered 
them  during  the  less  prosperous  current  of  their 
fortune. 

While  Pausanias  and  Lysander  settled  the 
affairs  of  Athens  and  of  Asia,  Agis,  the  most 
warlike  of  their  princes,  levied  a 
xcrv  2 powerful  army,  to  inflict  a late,  but 
A C 403  terr^^e  vengeance  on  the  Elians. 

That  he  might  attack  the  enemy 
unprepared,  he  led  his  forces  through  the  coun- 
tries of  Argolis  and  Achaia,  entering  the  Elian 
territory  by  the  way  of  Larissa,  and  intending 
to  march  by  the  shortest  road  to  the  devoted 
capital.  But  he  had  scarcely  passed  the  river 
Larissus,  which  gives  name  to  the  town,  and 
separates  the  adjoining  provinces  of  Elis  and 
Achaia,  when  the  invaders  were  admonished, 
by  repeated  shocks  of  an  earthquake,  to  abstain 
from  ravaging  a country  which  enjoyed  the  im- 
mediate protection  of  Heaven.  Into  such  a 
menace,  at  least,  this  terrible  phenomenon  was 
interpreted  by  the  superstition  of  the  Spartan 
king,  who  immediately  repassed  the  river,  and, 
returning  home,  disbanded  his  army.  But  the 
hostility  of  the  Spartans  was  restrained,  not 
extinguished.  Having  offered  due  supplications 
and  sacrifices  to  sanctify  the  impious  invasion, 
the  ephori,  next  year,  commanded  Agis  again 
to  levy  troops,  and  to  enter  the  Elian  territory. 
No  unfavourable  sign  checked  the  progress  of 
his  arms.  During  two  summers  and  autumns, 
the  country  was  desolated;  the  villages  burned 
or  demolished  ; their  inhabitants  dragged  into 
captivity;  the  sacred  edifices  were  despoiled  of 
their  most  valued  ornaments ; the  porticos, 
gymnasia,  and  temples,  which  adorned  the  city 
of  Jupiter,  were  many  of  them  reduced  to  ruins. 

The  Spartans  neither  alone  incurred  the  guilt, 


nor  exclusively  enjoyed  the  profits  of  this  cruel 
devastation.  The  Elian  invasion  furnished  a 
rich  harvest  of  plunder  to  the  Arcadians  and 
other  communities  of  Peloponnesus,  whose  ra- 
pacious lust  was  enflamed  by  the  virgin  bloom 
of  a country  which  had  long  been  protected  by 
religion  against  the  ravages  of  war.  When  the 
principal  property  of  the  Elians  was  destroyed 
or  plundered,  the  Spartans  at  length  granted 
them  a peace,  on  condition  that  they  surrender- 
ed their  fleet,  acknowledged  the  independence 
of  the  inferior  towns  and  villages,  which  were 
scattered  along  the  delightful  banks  of  the 
Peneus  and  the  Alpheus,  and  modelled  their  in- 
ternal government  according  to  the  plan  pre- 
scribed by  their  conquerors.7 

The  war  of  Elis  occupied,  but  did  not  engross, 
the  attention  of  the  Spartans  ; nor  did  the  pu- 
nishment  of  that  unfortunate  re- 
xcv  4 public  divert  them  from  other  pro- 
A C 401  jects  revenge.  The  Messenians 
were  not  their  accidental  and  tem- 
porary, but  their  natural  and  inveterate,  foes ; 
and  might  justly  expect  to  feel  the  unhappy 
consequences  of  their  triumph.  After  the  de- 
struction of  Messene,  and  the  long  wanderings 
and  misery  of  its  persecuted  citizens,  the  town 
of  Naupactus,  situate  on  the  northern  shore  of 
the  Corinthian  gulf,  furnished  a safe  retreat  to 
a feeble  remnant  of  that  ancient  community  ; 
which,  flourishing  under  the  protection  of 
Athens,  spread  along  the  western  coast,  and 
planted  a considerable  colony  in  the  neighbour- 
ing island  of  Cephalenia.  We  have  already 
described  the  memorable  gratitude  of  the  Mes- 
senians, who  were  the  most  active,  zealous, 
and,  according  to  their  ability,  the  most  useful 
allies  of  Athens  in  the  Peloponnesian  war.  But 
their  assistance  (and  assistance  far  more  power- 
ful than  theirs)  proved  ineffectual ; and  the 
time  was  now  arrived  when  they  were  to  suffer 
a severe  punishment  for  their  recent  as  well  as 
ancient  injuries.  The  resentment  of  Sparta 
drove  them  from  Naupactus  and  Cephalenia. 
The  greater  part  escaped  to  Sicily;  above  three 
thousand  sailed  to  Cyrenaica,  the  only  countries 
inhabited  by  the  Hellenic  race,  which  lay  be- 
yond the  reach  of  the  Lacedaemonian  power.8 

From  the  era  of  this  important  migration,  the 
names  of  Sicily  and  Cyrenaica  will  seldom  oc- 
cur in  the  present  history  ; on  which  account 
it  may  not  be  improper  briefly  to  explain  the 
causes  which  withdrew  from  the  general  sphere 
of  Grecian  politics  a fruitful  and  extensive 
coast,  and  an  island  not  less  fruitful  and  exten- 
sive, and  far  more  populous  and  powerful.  The 
insulated  situation  of  these  remote  provinces, 
while  it  rendered  it  extremely  inconvenient  for 
Greece  to  interfere  in  their  affairs,  peculiarly 
exposed  them  to  two  evils,  which  rendered  it 
still  more  inconvenient  for  them  to  interfere  in 
the  affairs  of  Greece.  Removed  from  the  pro- 
tection of  their  Peloponnesian  ancestors,  both 
the  Cyreneans  and  Sicilians  often  endured  the 
oppression  of  domestic  tyrants,  and  often  suf- 
fered the  ravages  of  foreign  barbarians. 

The  inhabitants  of  Cyrenaica  alternately  car- 
ried on  the  war  against  the  Libians  and  Car- 


6 Thucydid.  I.  v. 


7 Xenophon  Ifellen.  1.  iii.  c.  2.  Diodor.  1.  xiv.  p.  404. 

8 Diodor.  1.  xiv.  p.  415. 


278 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


lhaginians.1  They  were  actually  oppressed  by 
the  tyrant  Ariston.  Soon  afterwards  they  re- 
covered their  civil  liberty  ;2  but  were  com- 
pelled frequently  to  struggle  for  their  national 
independence.  Though  often,  invaded,  their 
country  was  never  subdued  by  any  barbarian 
enemy  ; and  their  liberties  survived  the  repub- 
lics of  their  European  brethren,  since  they  re- 
luctantly submitted  for  the  first  time  to  the 
fortunate  general  of  Alexander,  who,  in  the 
division  of  his  master’s  conquests,  obtained  the 
fertile  and  wealthy  kingdom  of  Egypt.3 

The  revolutions  of  Sicily  are  far  better  known 
than  those  of  Cyrene,  and  still  more  worthy  to 
be  remembered.  During  the  latter  years  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  the  assistance  given  by  Sy- 
racuse to  the  Lacedaemonians  became  gradually 
more  faint  and  imperceptible,  and  at  length  it 
was  totally  withdrawn.  This  was  occasioned 
by  the  necessity  of  defending  the  safety  of  the 
whole  island,  in  which  that  of  the  capital  was 
involved,  against  the  formidable  descents  of  the 
Carthaginians,  whom  the  invitation  of  Segesta 
and  several  inferior  cities  at  variance  with  their 
powerful  neighbours,  the  hopes  of  acquiring  at 
once  those  valuable  commodities,  the  annual 
purchase  of  which  drained  Africa  of  such  im- 
mense treasures,  and,  above  all,  the  desire  of 
revenging  the  death  of  Hamilcar,  and  the  dis- 
honour of  the  Carthaginian  name  in  the  unfor- 
tunate siege  of  Himera,  encouraged  to  under- 
take and  carry  on  various  expeditions  for  the 
entire  subjugation  of  Sicily. 

Hannibal,  the  grandson  of  Ha- 
xcn  3>*  milcar,  was  entrusted  with  the  con- 
duct  of  the  war,  which  commenced 
/T  the  four  hundred  and  tenth,  and 
£ continued,  with  little  intermission, 
Ain  At\A  till  the  four  hundred  and  fourth 
year  before  the  Christian  era.  The 
domestic  troops  of  Carthage  were  reinforced  by 
their  African  allies.  Considerable  levies  were 
made  among  the  native  Spaniards  and  Italians, 
who  had  long  envied  the  splendour,  and  dread- 
ed the  power  of  the  Greeks,  to  whose  conquest 
and  colonies  they  saw  no  bounds.  The  united 
army  exceeded  a hundred  thousand  men,  and 
was  conveyed  to  the  southern  shore  of  Sicily 
in  a proportionable  number  of  transports  and 
galleys.4 

The  design  of  Hannibal,  as  far  as  it  appears 
from  his  measures,  was  to  conquer  successively 
the  smaller  and  more  defenceless  towns,  before 
he  laid  siege  to  Syracuse,  whose  natural  strength, 
recently  improved  by  art,  bidding  defiance  to 
assault,  could  only  be  taken  by  blockade.  The 
A C 409  ^rst  camPa^n  was  rendered  memo- 
rable by  the  conquest  of  Selinus 
and  Himera  ; the  second  by  the  demolition  of 
Agrigentum ; the  third  by  the  taking  of  Gela. 
The  inferior  cities  of  Solas,  Egesta,  Motya, 
A C 406  Ancyrai  Entelta,  and  Panormus 


A.  C.  405. 


either  invited  the  Carthaginian 


arms,  or  surrendered  without  re- 
sistance. The  invaders  might  have  proceeded 
to  the  siege  of  Syracuse,  the  main  object  of 

1 Aristot.  Polit.  Sallust,  de  Bell.  Jugurth. 

2 Diodor.  1.  xiv.  p.  415. 

3 Diodor.  1.  xix.  p.  715.  et  Strabo.  1.  xvii.  p.  836. 

4 Diodor.  Sicul.  1.  xiii.  c.43.  el  seq. 


[Chap. 

their  expedition ; but  pestilence  followed  the 
bloody  havoc  of  war,  and  swept  off,  in  undis- 
tinguished ruin,  the  victors  and  the  vanquished. 
Not  only  the  general,  but  the  most  numerous 
portion  of  his  troops,  had  fallen  a prey  to  this 
calamity  ; and  Hamilcar,  who  succeeded  to  the 
command,  contented  himself  with  leaving  gar- 
risons in  the  towns  which  had  been  conquered, 
and  returned  to  Africa  with  the  enfeebled  re- 
mains of  his  armament,  which  communicated 
the  pestilential  infection  to  Carthage,  where  it 
long  raged  with  destructive  fury.5 

According  to  the  genius  of  Grecian  supersti- 
tion, it  was  natural  to  ascribe  the  sufferings  of 
the  Carthaginians  to  the  unexampled  cruelty 
and  impiety  with  which,  in  their  successive  ra- 
vages, they  had  deformed  the  fair  face  of  Sicily. 
It  would  be  useless  and  disgustful  to  describe  the 
horrid  scenes  of  bloodshed  and  slaughter  trans- 
acted in  the  several  places  which  presumed  to 
resist  their  power.  Whatever  atrocities  could 
be  invented  by  the  unprincipled  license  of  the 
Italians,  approved  by  the  stern  insensibility  of 
the  Spaniards,  and  inflicted  by  the  implacable 
revenge  of  the  Africans,  were  committed  in  the 
miserable  cities  of  Selinus,  Himera,  Gela,  and 
Agrigentum.  After  the  taking  of  Himera, 
Hannibal  sacrificed  in  one  day  three  thousand 
of  its  inhabitants  to  the  manes  of  his  grand- 
father, who  in  the  first  Carthaginian  invasion, 
had  perished  before  its  walls ; and  the  lot  of 
these  unhappy  victims,  dreadful  as  it  was, 
might  justly  be  an  object  of  envy  to  the  long 
tormented  natives  of  Gela  and  Selinus. 

Yet  of  all  Sicilian  cities,  the  fate  of  Agri- 
gentum seemed  the  most  worthy  to  be  deplored, 
from  the  striking  contrast  of  its  fallen  state 
with  its  recent  splendour  and  prosperity.  The 
natural  beauties6  of  Agrigentum  were  secured 
by  strength,  and  adorned  with  elegance  ; and 
whoever  considered  either  the  innumerable  ad- 
vantages of  the  city  itself,  or  the  gay  cultiva- 
tion of  the  surrounding  territory,  which  abound- 
ed in  every  luxury  of  the  sea  and  land,  was 
ready  to  pronounce  the  Agrigentines  the  most 
favoured  inhabitants  of  the  earth.  The  exu- 
berant fertility  of  the  soil,  particularly  the  rich 
luxuriance  of  the  vines  and  olives,7  exceeded 
every  thing  that  is  related  of  the  happiest  cli- 
mates, and  furnished  the  materials  of  a lucra- 
tive commerce  with  the  populous  coast  of  Af- 
rica, which  was  very  sparingly  provided  in  those 
valuable  plants.  The  extraordinary  wealth  of 
the  Agrigentines  was  displayed  in  the  magnifi- 
cence of  public  edifices,  and  in  the  splendid  en- 
joyment of  private  fortunes.  They  had  begun, 
and  almost  completed,  the  celebrated  temple  ot 
Jupiter,  built  in  the  grandest  style  of  architec- 
ture employed  by  the  Greeks  on  the  greatest 
and  most  solemn  occasions.  Its  walls  were  en- 
compassed by  pillars  without,  and  adorned  by 
pilasters  within  ; and  its  magnitude  far  exceed- 
ed the  ordinary  dimensions  of  ancient  temples, 
as  it  extended  three  hundred  a forty  feet  in 
length,  sixty  in  breadth,  and  a hundred  and 

5 Diodor.  1.  xiii.  c.  70.  et  seq. 

6 The  following  particulars  in  the  text,  concerning  Agri- 
gentum, we  learn  from  Diodorus  Siculus,  p.  374 — 379.  Va 
ler.  Maxim.  1.  iv.  8.  Athenaeus,  1.  i.  c.  3. 

7 Diodorus  celebrates  the  height  of  the  vines,  which  wo 
are  not  used  to  consider  as  a proper  subject  of  panegyric. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


279 


XXIV.] 

twenty  in  height,  without  including  the  lofty 
and  spacious  dome.  The  grandeur  of  the  doors 
and  vestibule  corresponded  with  the  simple 
majesty  of  the  whole  edifice,  whose  sculptured 
ornaments  represented,  with  finished  elegance, 
and  witli  a laborious  accuracy  that  distinguish- 
ed each  particular  figure,  the  defeat  of  the 
Giants,  and  the  taking  of  Troy  ; respectively, 
the  most  illustrious  exploits  of  Grecian  gods, 
and  Grecian  heroes. 

This  noble  monument,  consecrated  to  piety 
and  patriotism,  might  be  contrasted,  by  a philo- 
sophic mind,  with  others  destined  to  a very  dif- 
ferent purpose.  Without  the  walls  of  Agrigen- 
tum,  an  artificial  pond,  or  rather  lake,  thirty  feet 
deep  and  near  a mile  in  circumference,  was 
continually  replenished  with  a rare  variety  of 
the  most  delicate  fishes,  to  furnish  a sure  sup- 
ply to  the  sumptuous  extravagance  of  public 
entertainments.  But  nothing  could  rival  the 
elegance  and  beauty  of  the  tombs  and  sepul- 
chres erected  by  the  Agrigentines,  to  perpetuate 
the  fame  of  their  coursers  w hich  had  obtained 
the  Olympic  prize  ; and,  if  we  believe  the  tes- 
timony of  an  eye-witness,8  to  commemorate  the 
quails  and  other  delicate  birds,  which  were 
cherished  with  an  affectionate  and  partial  fond- 
ness by  the  effeminate  youth  of  both  sexes. 
Such  capricious  and  absurd  abuses  of  opulence 
and  the  arts  might  be  expected  amidst  the  mor- 
tifying discrimination  of  ranks,  and  the  enor- 
mous superabundance  of  private  riches,  which 
distinguished  the  Agrigentines.  The  labour  of 
numerous  and  active  slaves  cultivated  agricul- 
ture and  manufactures  with  extraordinary  suc- 
cess. From  the  profit  of  these  servile  hands 
many  citizens  attained,  and  exceeded,  the  mea- 
sure not  only  of  Grecian,  but  of  modern  wealth. 
A short  time  before  the  siege  of  the  town, 
Hexenitus  returned  in  triumph  from  Olympia, 
with  three  hundred  chariots,  each  drawn  by 
two  milk-w7hite  horses  of  Sicilian  blood.  Antis- 
thenes  had  eclipsed  this  magnificence  in  cele- 
brating the  marriage  of  his  daughter.  But 
every  native  of  Agrigentum  yielded  the  fame 
of  splendour  to  the  hospitable  Gellias,  whose 
palace  could  entertain  and  lodge  five  hundred 
guests,  who  had  been  clothed  from  his  ward- 
robe, and  whose  cellars,  consisting  of  three 
hundred  spacious  reservoirs,  cut  in  the  solid 
rock,  daily  invited  the  joyous  festivity  of  stran- 
gers and  citizens. 

Before  the  second  Carthaginian  invasion,  the 
Agrigentines,  warned  by  the  fate  of  Selinus  and 
Himera,  had  prepared  whatever  seemed  most 
necessary  for  their  own  defence.  Their  maga- 
zines were  stored  with  provisions,  their  arsenals 
with  arms.  Elevated  by  the  confidence  of  pros- 
perity, they  had  courage  to  resist  the  first  im- 
pressions of  their  enemies;  but,  corrupted  by 
the  vices  of  wealth  and  luxury,  they  wanted 
fortitude  to  persevere.  Their  allies  in  Sicily 
and  Italy  showed  not  that  degree  of  ardour 
which  might  have  been  expected  in  a war  which 
so  deeply  concerned  them  all : yet,  by  the  par- 
tial assistance  of  Syracuse,  Gela,  and  Camerina, 
as  well  as  several  Grecian  allies  in  Italy,  the 
Agrigentines  stood  the  siege  eight  months,  dur- 


ing which,  the  Carthaginians  employed  every 
resource  of  strength  and  ingenuity.  At  length 
the  place  was  reduced  to  great  difficulties  by 
means  of  immense  wooden  machines,  drawn  on 
wheels,  which  enabled  the  besiegers  to  fight  on 
equal  ground  with  those  vvho  defended  the 
walls.  But  before  any  breach  was  effected,  the 
greater  part  of  the  inhabitants  determined  to 
abandon  the  city. 

In  the  obscurity  of  night,  they  departed  with 
their  wives  and  families,  and  many  of  them  for- 
tunately escaped  to  Gela,  Syracuse,  and  Leon- 
tium.  Others,  wanting  courage  for  this  danger- 
ous resolution,  or  unwilling  to  survive  the  fate 
of  their  country,  perished  by  their  own  hands. 
A third  class,  more  timid,  or  more  superstitious, 
shut  themselves  up  in  the  temples,  expecting 
to  be  saved  by  the  protection  of  the  gods,  or  by 
the  religious  awe  of  the  enemy.  But  the  Bar- 
barians no  more  respected  what  was  sacred, 
than  what  was  'profane.  The  consecrated  sta- 
tues, and  altars,  and  offerings,  were  confounded 
with  things  the  most  vile,  and  plundered  or  de- 
stroyed in  the  promiscuous  ruin.  One  memora- 
ble act  of  despair  may  represent  the  genera] 
horror  of  this  dreadful  scene.  With  his  numer- 
ous friends,  and  most  valued  treasure,  the  hu- 
mane and  hospitable  Gellias  had  taken  refuge 
in  the  temple  of  Minerva  ; but  when  he  under- 
stood the  universal  desolation  of  his  country, 
he  set  fire  to  that  sacred  edifice,  choosing  to 
perish  by  the  flames  rather  than  by  the  rage  of 
the  Carthaginians.9 

Near  fourscore  years  before  the 
xJT  demolition  of  Agrigentum,  Sicily 
A C 408  ^ad  acquried  immortal  glory,  by  de- 
feating more  numerous  invaders ; 
but,  at  that  time,  the  efforts  of  the  whole  island 
were  united"  and  animated  by  the  virtues  and 
abilities  of  Gelon;  whereas,  amidst  the  actual 
dangers  and  trepidation  of  the  Carthaginian 
war,  the  Sicilians  were  distracted  by  domestic 
factions.  Syracuse  had  banished  the  only  man 
whose  consummate  wisdom,  and  approved  va- 
lour and  fidelity,  seemed  worthy  to  direct  the 
helm  in  the  present  tempestuous  juncture.  In 
the  interval  between  the  siege  of  Himera  and 
that  of  Agrigentum,  the  patriotic  Hermocratus 
had  returned  to  Sicily  ; and,  at  the  head  of  his 
numerous  adherents,  had  attempted  to  gain  ad- 
mission into  the  capital.  But  the  attempt  was 
immediately  fatal  to  himself ; and,  in  its  conse- 
quences, destructive  of  the  public  freedom. 
His  partisans,  though  discomfited  and  banished, 
soon  found  a leader  qualified  to  avenge  their 
cause,  and  to  punish  the  ingratitude  of  Syra- 
cuse. 

This  was  the  celebrated  Dionysius,  a youth 
of  twenty-two  years;  of  mean  parentage,  but 
unbounded  ambition;  destitute  (if  we  believe 
historians)  of  almost  every  virtue,  and  possess- 
ed of  every  talent;  and  whose  fortune  it  was,  to 
live  and  flourish  amidst  those  perturbed  cir- 
cumstances of  foreign  war  and  civil  dissension, 
which  are  favourable  to  the  elevation  of  supe- 
rior minds.  Though  esteemed  and  entrusted 
by  Hermocrates,  who  could  more  easily  discern 
the  merit  of  his  abilities,  than  discover  the  dan- 


8 Tirnaaus  apud  Diodor.  1.  xiii. 


9 Diodorus,  p.  379 


280 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


ger  of  his  ambition,  Dionysius  had  gained 
friends  in  the  opposite  faction,  by  whose  in- 
terest he  was  recailed  from  exile.  His  services 
in  the  Carthaginian  war  raised  him  to  eminence. 
He  excelled  in  valour  ; he  was  unrivalled  in 
eloquence  ; his  ends  were  pursued  with  steady 
perseverance ; his  means  were  varied  with  con- 
venient flexibility ; the  appearance  of  patriotism 
rendered  him  popular,  and  he  employed  his 
popularity  to  restore  his  banished  friends. 

The  gratitude  of  one  party,  and  the  admira- 
tion of  both,  enabled  him  to  attain  the  command 
of  the  mercenaries,  and  the  conduct  of  the  war. 


Olymp. 
xciii.  4. 

A.  C.  405. 

Olymp. 
ciii.  2. 

A.  C.  367. 


Olvmn  was  ^ess  solicit™s  to  con- 

xciii  4 flue1,  the  Carthaginians  than  to  en- 
A C 405  s*ave  fellow-citizens,  whose  fac- 
tious turbulence  rendered  them  un- 
worthy of  liberty.  By  the  affected  dread  of 
violence  from  his  enemies,  he  obtained  a guard 
for  his  person,  which  his  artful  generosity  easily 
attached  to  his  interest;  and  the  arms  of  his 
troops,  the  influence  and  wealth  of  Philistus, 
the  historian  of  Sicily,  who  was  honoured  with 
the  appellation  of  the  second  Thucydides,1 
above  all  his  own  crafty  and  daring  ambition, 
enabled  him,  at  the  age  of  twenty-five,  to  usurp 
the  government  of  Syracuse,  which  he  held  for 
thirty-eight  years. 

During  his  long  and  active  reign  he  was  gene- 
rally engaged  in  war;  sometimes 
with  the  Carthaginians,  sometimes 
with  his  revolted  subjects.  Yet  in 
both  contests  he  finally  prevailed, 
having  reduced  the  Carthaginian 
power  in  Sicily,  and  appeased,  or  in- 
timidated domestic  rebellion.  His 
actual  condition,  however  splendid, 
he  regarded  only  as  a preparation  for  higher 
grandeur.  He  besieged  and  took  Rhegium, 
the  key  of  Italy;  nor  could  the  feeble  confede- 
racy of  the  Italian  Greeks  have  prevented  the 
conquest  of  that  country,  had  not  the  renewed 
hostilities  of  the  Carthaginians,  and  fresh  dis- 
contents at  home,  interrupted  the  progress  of 
his  arms.  This  growing  storm  he  resisted  as 
successfully  as  before,  and  transmitted,  to  a de- 
generate son,  the  peaceful  inheritance  of  the 
greatest  part  of  Sicily;  after  having  strength- 
ened, with  wonderful  art,  the  fortifications  of 
the  capital ; enlarged  the  size,  and  improved 
the  form  of  the  Syracusan  galleys;  invented 
the  military  catapults,  an  engine  of  war  which 
he  employed,  with  great  advantage,  in  the  siege 
of  Motya  and  Rhegium  ; and  not  only  defended 
his  native  island  against  foreign  invasion,  but 
rendered  its  power  formidable  to  the  neigh- 
bouring countries. 

His  poetical  labours  were  the  least  uniformly 
successful  of  all  his  undertakings.  His  verses, 
though  rehearsed  by  the  most  skilful  rhapso- 
dists  of  the  age,  were  treated  with  signal  con- 
tempt at  the  Olympic  games.  A second  time 
he  renewed  his  pretension  to  literary  fame  in 
that  illustrious  assembly ; but  his  ambassador 
was  insulted  by  the  most  humiliating  indigni- 
ties; and  the  orator  Lysias  pronounced  a dis- 
course, in  which  he  maintained  the  impropriety 
of  admitting  the  representative  of  an  impious 


[Chap. 

tyrant  to  assist  at  a solemnity  consecrated  to 
\ C 38r'  re^S*on’  V4rtuei  and  liberty.2  The 
' oration  of  Lysias  leaves  room  to 
suspect  that  the  plenitude  of  Dionysius’s  power, 
rather  than  the  defect  of  his  poetry,  exposed 
him  to  the  censure  and  derision  of  the  Olympic 
spectators ; and  this  suspicion  receives  strong 
confirmation  by  considering,  that,  in  the  last 
year  of  his  reign,  he  deserved  and  obtained  the 
poetic  crown  at  Athens;  a city  renowned  for 
the  impartiality  of  its  literary  decision.3 

It  is  remarkable,  that,  with  such  an  active, 
vigorous,  and  comprehensive  mind  ; with  such 
a variety  of  talents,  and  such  an  accumulation 
of  glory,  Dionysius  should  be  universally  held 
out  and  branded,  as  the  most  conspicuous  ex- 
ample of  an  odious  and  miserable  tyrant,  the 
object  of  terror  in  his  own,  and  of  detestation  in 
succeeding  ages.  Yet  the  uncorrupted  evi- 
dence of  history  will  prove,  that  the  character 
of  Dionysius  vTas  not  decisively  flagitious.  His 
situation  rendered  it  artificial;  and  he  is  ac- 
knowledged often  to  have  assumed  the  sem- 
blance of  virtue.  Always  crafty  and  cautious; 
but  by  turns,  as  it  suited  his  interest,  mild,  affa- 
ble, and  condescending;  or  cruel,  arrogant,  and 
imperious : nor  did  the  Syracusans  feel  the 
rigour  of  his  tyranny,  until  they  had  justly  pro- 
voked it  by  an  insurrection,  during  w hich  they 
treated  his  wife  and  children  wfith  the  most  bar- 
barous and  brutal  fury.  But  there  are  two 
circumstances  in  the  character  of  Dionysius 
which  peculiarly  excited  the  indignation  of  the 
moralists  of  Greece  and  Rome,  and  which  the 
moderation  or  the  softness  of  modern  times  will 
be  disposed  to  consider  with  less  severity.  He 
had  usurped  the  government  of  a free  republic; 
a crime  necessarily  heinous  in  the  sight  of  those 
wrho  held  the  assassination  of  a tyrant  to  be  the 
most  meritorious  exertion  of  human  virtue ; and 
he  professed  an  open  contempt  for  the  religion 
of  his  country ; a crime  of  which  the  bare  sus- 
picion had  brought  to  death  the  most  amiable 
and  respected  of  men.  Yet  the  impiety  of  Dio- 
nysius w-as  only  the  child  of  his  interest,  and 
sometimes  the  parent  of  his  wit.  He  strip- 
ped a celebrated  statue  of  Jupiter  of  a golden 
robe,  observing,  that  it  w'as  too  heavy  in  sum- 
mer, and  too  cold  in  wdnter.  For  a reason 
equally  ingenious  he  deprived  ^Esculapius  of 
his  golden  beard ; asserting,  that  such  a venera- 
ble ornament  ill  became  the  son  of  the  beardless 
Apollo.  But  if  he  despoiled  the  altars  and 
statues,  he  increased  and  improved  the  fleets 
and  armies,  of  Syracuse,  wdiich  w7ere  success- 
fully employed  against  the  public  enemy.  And 
to  the  general  current  of  satire  and  declamation 
against  this  extraordinary  man,4 * *  may  be  op- 
posed the  opinion  of  Polybius  and  Scipio 
Africanus,  the  most  illustrious  characters  of  the 
most  illustrious  age  of  Rome:  “That  none 


2 Life  of  Lysias,  p.  117.  Dionys.  Halicar.  de  Demosth. 

3 Isocrat  Panegyr. 

4 The  authentic  history  of  the  reign  of  Dionysius  is 

copiously  recorded  by  Diodorus  Siculus,  I.  xiv.  et  xv.  To 

relate  the  numerous  and  improbable  stories  told  of  him  by 

Cicero,  Plutarch,  Seneca,  and  other  moralists,  would  be  to 
transcribe  what  it  is  not  easy  to  believe.  The  reader  may 
consult,  particularly,  Plut.  ex.  edit.  Paris,  in  Moral,  pp.  78 
et  83.  De  Garrul.  p.  508.  In  Dion.  p.  961 ; and  varioua 
passages  of  Cicero  de  Officiis,  and  Tusculan.  Qusst. 


1 Cicero  de  Orator.  1.  ». 


XXV.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


281 


ever  concerted  his  schemes  with  more  pru- 
dence, or  executed  them  with  more  boldness, 
than  Dionysius  the  Elder.” 

His  son,  Dionysius  the  Younger,  exceeded 
his  vices  without  possessing  his  abilities.  The 
reign  of  this  second  tyrant  was  distracted  and 
ni  inglorious.  His  kinsman  Dion,  the 

ci  ^*3^"  amiable  disciple  of  Plato,  endea- 
^.1V  p ’ voured  to  correct  the  disorders  of 
' * ' his  ungoverned  mind.  But  the  task 

was  too  heavy  for  Dion,  and  even 
cx^  for  Plato  himself.  The  former,  un- 

A * C*  340  a^e  to  restrain  excesses  °f  the 
prince,  undertook  the  defence  of  the 
people.  His  patriotism  interrupted,  but  did  not 
destroy,  the  tyranny  of  Dionysius,  which  was 
finally  abolished,  twenty-two  years  after  he  first 
mounted  the  throne,  by  the  magnanimity  of 
Timoleon.5  This  revolution  happened  only 
two  years  before  Corinth,  the  country  of  Timo- 
leon, as  well  as  the  other  republics  of  Greece, 
submitted  to  the  arms  of  Philip  of  Macedon; 
and,  having  lost  their  own  independence,  be- 


cxlii. 1. 
A.  C.  212 


came  incapable  of  asserting  the  freedom  of  their 
colonies. 

New  tyrants  started  up  in  Syracuse,  and  al- 
most in  every  city  of  Sicily,  and  held  a preca- 
' rious  sway  under  the  alternate  pro- 

Oiymp.  tection  of  the  Carthaginians  and 

Romans.  The  citizens  of  Syracuse, 
mindful  of  their  ancient  fame,  de- 
throned their  usurpers,  and  enjoyed  consider- 
able intervals  of  liberty.  But  at  length  the 
Romans  gained  possession  of  the  place  ; the 
persevering  valour  of  Marcellus,  assisted  by  the 
treachery  of  the  garrison,  prevailing,  after  a 
siege  of  three  years,  over  the  bold  efforts  of 
mechanical  power,  directed  by  the  inventive 
genius  of  Archimedes.6  The  reduction  of  the 
capital  was  immediately  followed  by  the  con- 
quest of  the  adjoining  territory  ; and  Sicily 
came  thus  to  be  regarded  as  the  eldest  province 
of  Rome,  and  the  first  country,  without  the 
limits  of  Italy,  whic1^  had  taught  that  victorious 
republic  to  taste  and  enjoy  the  sweets  of  foreign 
dominion.7 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


Death,  of  Darius  Nothus — Cyrus  disputes  the  Succession  with  his  elder  Brother  Artaxerxes — 
Character  of  Cyrus — State  of  Lower  Asia  under  his  administration — His  Strength  and  Re- 
sources— His  Expedition  into  Upper  Asia — Descries  the  vast  Army  of  his  Brother — Battle  of 
Canaxa — Death  of  Cyrus — His  Grecian  Auxiliaries  victorious — Their  Treaty  with  Tissa- 
phernes — Perfidious  Assassination  of  the  Grecian  Generals — Artaxerxes  sends  to  the  Greeks  to 
demand  their  Arms — Conference  on  that  Subject. 


AXTHTLE  the  operations  of  war  conspired 
with  the  revolutions  of  government,  to 
detach  the  Grecian  colonies  in  Italy,  Sicily,  and 
p.,  Cyrene,  from  the  general  interests 

and  politics  of  the  mother  country, 


xciv.  1. 


a series  of  events,  not  less  curious 


than  important,  connected,  in  the 
closest  intimacy,  the  history  of  Greece  with  the 
annals  of  the  Persian  empire.  The  same  me- 
morable year  which  terminated  the  destructive 
war  of  Peloponnesus  brought  to  a conclusion 
the  active  and  prosperous  reign  of  Darius  No- 
thus. He  named  as  his  successor  Artaxerxes, 
styled  Mnemon,  from  the  strength  of  his  memory; 
and  persisted  in  this  choice,  notwithstanding 
the  opposition  of  the  artful  and  ambitious  Pa- 
rysatis,  who  employed  her  extensive  influence 
over  the  mind  of  an  old  and  uxorious  husband, 
to  obtain  the  kingdom  for  Cyrus,  the  younger 
brother  of  Artaxerxes,  and  the  peculiar  favour- 
ite of  his  mother.  The  rivalship  of  the  young 
princes,  both  of  whom  were  at  court  during  the 
last  illness  of  Darius,  unhappily  degenerated 
into  enmity  ; and  a circumstance,  which  would 


5 Corn.  Nepos.  Diodorus  Sicul.  Pint.  Dion. 

6 Polyb.  Excerpt.  1.  viii.  Pint,  in  Marcell. 

7 Livy,  1.  xxiv.  et  Cicero  in  Verrem  in  few  words — Om- 
nium exterarum  gentium  princeps  Sicilia  nd  amicitiam 
fidemque,  P.  R.  applicuit;  primaque  omnium,  id  quod  or- 
namentum  imperii  est,  provincia  est  appellatn  : prima  do- 
cuit  majores  nostros,  quam  prteclarum  csset  extciis  gentibus 
imperitare. 

2 N 


be  thought  immaterial  in  the  present  age,  in- 
creased the  indignation  of  Cyrus.  The  birth 
of  Artaxerxes  had  happened  before  the  acces- 
sion of  his  father  to  the  throne,  but  Cyrus  was 
born  the  son  of  a king ; a distinction  which, 
however  frivolous  it  may  appear  in  modern 
times,  had  engaged  Darius  Hystaspes  to  prefer 
Xerxes,  the  younger  of  his  sons,  to  his  elder 
brother  Artabazanes.6 

The  precedent  established  by  such  an  illus- 
trious monarch  might  have  enforced  the  partial 
arguments  of  Parysatis,  and  both  might  have 
been  confirmed  by  the  strong  claim  of  merit, 
since  Cyrus  early  discovered  such  talents  and 
virtues,  as  fitted  him  to  fill  the  most  difficult, 
and  to  adorn  the  most  exalted,  station.  At  the 
age  of  seventeen,  he  had  obtained  the  govern- 
ment of  Lydia,  Phrygia,  and  Cappadocia  ; and 
the  same  mandate  of  Darius,  which  destroyed 
his  hopes  of  succession  to  the  Persian  throne, 
rendered  him  hereditary  satrap  of  those  valua- 
ble provinces.  On  the  demise  of  that  monarch, 
Cyrus  prepared  to  return  to  Asia  Minor,  at- 
tended by  the  same  escort  with  which  he  had 
come  to  Susa ; a faithful  body  of  three  hundred 
heavy-armed  Greeks,  commanded  by  Xenias, 
an  Arcadian.  But  when  he  prepared  to  leave 
court,  a very  criminal  and  unfortunate  incident 
retarded  his  departure.  The  selfish  and  perfi- 


8 Herodot.  1.  vii  c.  i>. 


282 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


dious  Tissaphernes,  who  expected  to  divide  the 
spoils  of  the  young  prince,  accused  him  of  trea- 
son. He  was  apprehended  by  order  of  Arta- 
xerxes ; but  the  powerful  protection  of  Parysatis, 
who,  though  she  loved  only  one,  was  beloved, 
or  at  least  feared,  by  both  of  her  sons,  defended 
his  life,  vindicated  his  honour,  and  restored  him 
in  safety  to  his  government. 

The  danger  that  had  threatened  his  person 
could  not  much  affect  the  heroic  fortitude  of 
Cyrus  ; but  the  affront  offered  to  his  dignity 
sunk  deep  into  his  heart;  and  from  the  moment 
that  he  recovered  his  freedom,  he  determined  to 
revenge  his  injuries,1  or  to  perish  in  the  attempt. 
In  the  despotic  countries  of  the  East,  as  there 
is  scarcely  any  intermediate  gradation  between 
the  prince  and  people,  and  scarcely  any  alterna- 
tive but  that  of  dominion  or  servitude,  a dis- 
contented or  rebellious  subject  must  either  stifle 
his  animosity,  submit  to  die,  or  aspire  to  reign.2 
The  magnanimity  of  Cyrus  naturally  preferred 
the  road  of  danger  and  glory ; he  prepared  not 
only  to  punish  the  injustice,  but  to  usurp  the 
throne  of  Artaxerxes,  defended  as  it  was  by  a 
million  of  armed  men,  and  protected  both  by 
the  power  of  superstition,  and  by  the  splendour 
of  hereditary  renown.  The  design  would  have 
been  great,  but  romantic,  if  the  young  prince 
had  not  enjoyed  very  extraordinary  resources  in 
the  powers  of  his  own  mind,  in  the  affectionate 
attachment  of  his  Barbarian  subjects,  and, 
above  all,  in  the  fidelity  and  valour  of  his  La- 
cedaemonian allies. 

Whether  we  consider  what  he  said,  or  what 
he  did,  the  testimony  of  his  contemporaries,  or 
the  more  unerring  testimony  of  his  life  and 
actions,  Cyrus  appears  to  have  been  born  for  the 
honour  of  human  nature,  and  particularly  for  the 
honour  of  Asia,  which,  though  the  richest  and 
most  populous  quarter  of  the  globe,  has  never, 
in  any  age,  abounded  in  great  characters.  From 
the  age  of  seven  years,  he  had  been  trained,  at 
the  gate  of  the  palace,  to  shoot  with  the  bow,  to 
manage  the  horse,  and  to  speak  truth ; according 
to  the  discipline  instituted  by  the  great  founder 
of  the  monarchy,  and  well  adapted,  in  an  age  of 
simplicity,  to  form  the  princes  and  nobles  of 
Persia.  But  in  the  course  of  two  centuries, 
the  progress  of  refinement  and  luxury,  the  in- 
fectious example  of  a corrupt  court,  and  the  per- 
fidious lessons  of  the  world,  had  perverted,  or 
rendered  ineffectual,  a very  salutary  system  of 
education  ; and  the  grandees  of  Persia,  what- 
ever proficiency  they  made  in  their  exercises,  felt 
so  little  regard  for  veracity,  that  (as  will  abun- 
dantly appear  in  the  sequel)  they  seldom  spoke 
but  with  a view  to  deceive,  and  rarely  made  a 
promise  which  they  did  not  break,  or  took  an 
oath  which  they  did  not  violate.  The  behaviour 
of  Cyrus  was  totally  the  reverse.  He  equalled, 
and  surpassed  his  companions  in  all  exterior 
accomplishments.  But  while  his  manly  beauty, 
his  bodily  activity  and  address,  and  the  superior 


1 Xenoph.  Anabas.  I.  i.  c.  i.  This  was  the  origin  of  his 
resentment,  which  Xenophon  expresses  with  gTeat  delicacy; 
o St  x ivSvvtvrxs  xx i xTiftxrisif)  6ovX.ivst«»  osrwg  jeojtstc 
iti  ta-Txi  ewi  tju  etSsY^w,  &.c.  He  asserted  independence, 
the  first  wish  of  every  great  mind. 

2 “Cyrus  determined  no  longer,”  says  Xenophon,  “to 

depend  on  his  brother;  ry  Sw^txi  Gx<ri\tvritv  xvt ’ 

fxitvo  v,  but,  if  possible,  to  reign  in  his  stead.” 


| Chap. 

courage,  as  well  as  skill,  which  he  displayed  in 
hunting,  horsemanship,  and  every  military  ex- 
ercise, commanded  the  admiration  of  the  multi- 
tude ; he  himself  seems  not  to  have  estimated 
such  superficial  advantages  beyond  their  real 
worth.  Pie  regarded  integrity  of  heart  as  the 
only  solid  basis  of  a great  character.  His  probi- 
ty was  uniform,  his  word  sacred,  his  friendship 
inviolable.  In  the  giddy  season  of  youth,  he 
yielded,  with  uncommon  docility,  to  the  admo- 
nitions of  experience.  Neither  wealth,  nor 
birth,  nor  rank,  but  age  and  virtue,  were  the 
objects  of  his  respect:  and  his  behaviour,  equally 
meritorious  and  singular,  was  justly  and  uni- 
versally admired. 

His  subjects  in  Lesser  Asia,  in  particular, 
were  seized  with  the  most  pleasing  astonishment, 
when,  instead  of  a greedy  and  voluptuous  satrap, 
eager  only  to  squeeze,  to  amass,  and  to  enjoy, 
they  beheld  a prince  who  preferred  the  public 
interest  to  his  own  ; who  alleviated  the  weight 
of  taxes,  that  he  might  encourage  the  operations 
of  industry ; whose  own  hands  gave  the  useful 
example  of  rural  labour  ;3  whose  decisions 
united  justice  and  mercy  ; and  whose  active 
vigilance  introduced  (what  neither  before  nor 
since  the  government  of  Cyrus  has  been  known 
in  the  Asiatic  peninsula)  such  a regularity  of 
police,  as  rendered  intercourse  safe,  and  pro- 
perty secure. 

The  virtues  of  justice  and  integrity,  when  ac- 
companied with  diligence  and  abilities,  must 
procure  such  a degree  of  respect  for  the  admin- 
istration, as  will  naturally  be  extended  to  the 
person,  of  a prince.  But  something  farther  is 
required,  not  to  obtain  the  public  gratitude  and 
esteem,  but  to  excite  the  affectionate  ardour  of 
select  and  devoted  friends ; without  the  assist- 
ance of  whom,  it  is  seldom  possible  to  accomplish 
any  great  and  memorable  design.  Cyrus  excel- 
led all  his  contemporaries  in  the  art  both  of  ac- 
quiring and  of  preserving  the  most  valuable 
friendships.  His  gratitude  overpaid  every  fa- 
vour ; his  liberality  was  large,  yet  discerning ; 
and  his  donatives  were  always  enhanced  by  the 
handsome  and  affectionate  manner  in  which 
they  were  bestowed.  When  he  discovered  a 
man  really  worthy  of  his  confidence  and  esteem, 
he  was  not  satisfied  with  giving  him  a partial 
share  of  his  affections;  he  gave  his  heart  entire: 
and  it  was  his  constant  prayer  to  the  gods,  that 
he  might  live  to  requite  and  surpass  the  good 
offices  of  his  friends,  and  the  injuries  of  his 
enemies.4 

With  such  sentiments  and  character,  Cyrus 
acquired  the  firm  attachment  of  a few,  and  the 
willing  obedience  of  all  his  Barbarian  subjects, 
in  the  populous  provinces  which  he  commanded, 
whose  united  strength  exceeded  a hundred 
thousand  fighting  men ; who,  unwarlike  as  they 
were,  yet  excelled,  both  in  bravery  and  in  skill, 
the  effeminate  troops  of  Upper  Asia. 

They  were  probably  indebted  for  this  advan- 
tage to  their  intercourse  with  the  Greeks,  whose 
disciplined  valour,  far  more  than  the  numbers  of 
his  Barbarians,  encouraged  Cyrus  to  undertake 
an  expedition  for  acquiring  the  empire  of  the 


3 Xenoph.  ibid.  Cic.  in  Senect.  Plut.  in  Lysand.  have 
all  celebrated  this  part  of  his  character. 

4 Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  iii. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


283 


XXV.] 

East.  By  the  most  important  services  he  had 
deserved  the  gratitude  of  the  Lacedaemonian  re- 
public ; which  had  been  raised,  chiefly  by  his 
assistance,  to  the  head  of  Greece,  and  to  the 
command  of  the  sea.  In  return  for  that  favour, 
so  inestimable  in  the  sight  of  an  ambitious  peo- 
ple, the  Spartans  readily  complied  with  his  re- 
quest, by  sending  into  Asia  eight  hundred 
heavy-armed  men,  under  the  command  of  the 
intrepid  Cheirisophus ; and  they  charged  their 
admiral,  Samius,  wTho  had  succeeded  Lysander 
in  the  government  of  the  Ionian  coast,  faith- 
fully to  co-operate  with  Cyrus,  by  employing 
his  powerful  fleet  in  whatever  service  the  Per- 
sian prince  might  think  proper  to  recommend.5 
Had  they  done  nothing  more  than  this,  Cyrus 
might  well  have  approved  their  useful  gratitude; 
especially  as  their  alliance,  securing  him  on 
the  side  of  Europe,  enabled  him,  without  dan- 
ger, to  drain  his  western  garrisons,  and  to  aug- 
ment the  strength  of  his  army.  But  the  friend- 
ship of  the  Spartans  carried  them  still  farther. 
They  allowed  him  to  recruit  his  forces  in  every 
part  of  their  dominions  ; and  the  generous  mu- 
nificence of  Cyrus  had  acquired  numerous  par- 
tisans well  qualified  to  raise  and  to  command 
those  valuable  levies.  Clearchus  the  Spartan, 
Menon  the  Thessalian,  Proxenus  the  Boeotian, 
Agias  the  Arcadian,  and  Socrates  the  Achaean, 
all  alike  devoted  to  the  interest  and  glory  of  the 
Persian  prince,  collected,  chiefly  from  their  re- 
spective republics,  above  ten  thousand  heavy- 
armed men,  and  near  three  thousand  archers 
and  targeteers. 

These  preparations,  which  were  carried  on 
with  silence  and  celerity,  deceived  the  haughty 
indolence  of  the  Persians  ; but  they  could  not 
escape  the  vigilance  of  Alcibiades,  who  then 
resided  at  Grynium,  a town  of  Phrygia,  under 
the  protection  of  Pharnabazus.  Moved  by  re- 
sentment against  the  Lacedaemonians,  or  am- 
bitious of  gaining  merit  with  the  great  king, 
he  desired  an  escort  from  the  satrap,  that  he 
might  undertake  with  safety  a journey  to  Susa, 
in  order  to  acquaint  Artaxerxes  with  the  hostile 
designs  of  his  brother.  Pharnabazus,  who  pos- 
sessed not  the  merit,  desired  the  reward  of  the 
discovery ; and  therefore  (as  we  formerly  had 
occasion  to  relate)6  readily  gratified  the  request 
of  Lysander,  by  the  destruction  of  Alcibiades. 
Oivmn  But  ne^ier  ^e  intelligence  con- 

j veyed  by  the  Persian  governor,  nor 
A C *400  l^e  rePeated  solicitations  of  Tissa- 
phemes,  nor  the  consciousness  of 
his  own  injustice  and  cruelty,  could  rouse  Arta- 
xerxes from  the  profound  security  of  his  re- 
pose. Cyrus  completed  his  levies  without  mo- 
lestation, and  almost  without  suspicion  ; and 
prepared,  in  the  beginning  of  the  year  four 
hundred  before  Christ,  to  march  from  the  Io- 
nian coast  into  Upper  Asia,  at  the  head  of  a 
hundred  thousand  Barbarians,  and  above  thir- 
teen thousand  Greeks.  His  journey  towards 
Babylon,  his  defeat  and  death  m the  plain  of 
Cynaxa,  the  retreat  and  dispersion  of  his  fol- 
lowers, and  the  memorable  return  of  the  Greeks 
to  their  native  country,  have  been  related  by 
the  admired  disciple  of  Socrates  (whom  the 


5 Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  iii. 


friendship  of  Proxenus,  the  Boeotian,  recom- 
mended to  the  service  and  esteem  of  Cyrus,) 
with  such  descriptive  beauty,  with  such  pro- 
found knowledge  of  war  and  of  human  nature, 
and  with  such  inimitable  eloquence,  as  never 
were  re-united  in  the  work  of  any  one  man  but 
that  of  Xenophon  the  Athenian.  The  retreat 
was  principally  conducted  by  Xenophon  him- 
self ; which  has  enabled  him  to  adorn  his  nar- 
rative with  such  an  affecting  variety  of  inci- 
dents and  characters  as  will  always  serve  to 
prove  that  the  force  of  truth  and  nature  is  far 
superior  to  the  powers  of  the  most  fertile  fancy. 
It  would  be  an  undertaking  not  only  hardy,  but 
presumptuous,  to  invade  the  province  of  such 
an  accomplished  writer,  if  the  design  of  the 
present  work  did  not  oblige  us  to  select  the 
principal  circumstances  which  illustrate  the 
condition  of  the  times,  and  connect  the  expe- 
dition of  Cyrus  with  the  subsequent  history  of 
Greece. 

Having  assembled  his  forces  at  Sardis,  the 
Persian  prince  was  carried,  by  the  activity  of 
his  resentment  or  ambition,  with  the  utmost 
celerity,  towards  Upper  Asia.  In  ninety-three 
marches  he  travelled  through  the  central  pro- 
vinces of  Lydia,  Phrygia,  Cappadocia ; tra- 
versed the  mountains  of  Cilicia ; passed  unre- 
sisted through  Syria ; crossed  the  Euphrates  at 
Thapsacus  ; and  after  penetrating  the  desert, 
entered  the  confines  of  Babylonia.  In  a jour- 
ney of  above  twelve  hundred  miles,  his  numer- 
ous army  experienced  fewer  difficulties  than 
might  naturally  be  expected.  The  fertile 
territory  of  Asia  Minor  supplying  them  abun- 
dantly with  provisions,  enabled  them  to  pro- 
ceed commonly  at  the  rate  of  fifteen  or  sixteen 
miles  a-day ; and  almost  every  second  day 
brought  them  to  a large  and  populous  city. 
The  dependent  satraps  or  viceroys  of  Lycaonia 
and  Cilicia  were  less  solicitous  to  defend  the 
throne  of  Artaxerxes,  than  anxious  to  protect 
their  respective  provinces  from  plunder  and  de- 
vastation. But  the  former  experienced  the  se- 
verity of  an  invader  whom  he  had  the  weak- 
ness to  oppose,  without  the  strength  or  courage 
to  resist.7 

Syennesis,  governor  of  Cilicia,  had  reason  to 
fear  that  his  country  might  be  plundered  with 
equal  rapacity.  He  endeavoured,  therefore,  to 
avail  himself  of  the  natural  strength  of  a pro- 
vince whose  southern  boundaries  are  washed 
by  the  sea,  and  which  is  defended  on  other  sides 
by  the  winding  branches  of  Mount  Taurus.6 
Towards  the  west  is  but  one  pass,  called  by 
Arrian  the  Gates  of  Cilicia  ;9  sufficient  to  ad- 
mit only  one  chariot  at  a time,  and  rendered 
dark  and  difficult  by  steep  and  almost  inacces- 
sible mountains.  These  were  occupied  by  the 
troops  of  Syennesis,  who,  had  he  maintained 
his  post,  might  have  easily  prevented  the  pas- 
sage of  an  army.  But  the  timid  Cilician  had 
not  trusted  in  arms  alone  for  the  defence  of  his 
country.  By  the  order,  or  at  least  with  the 
permission  of  her  husband,  his  queen,  the  beau- 
tiful Epyaxa,  had  met  Cyrus  at  Cylenee,  on  the 
frontiers  of  Phrygia ; and,  according  to  the 


7 Xenoph.  Anabas.  I.  i.  p.  248.  8 Ibid. 

9 Arrian.  Exped.  Alexand.  I.  ii.  p.  31. 


6 See  above,  p.  26G. 


284 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


custom  of  the  East,  presented  her  acknowledged 
liege-lord  and  superior  with  gold,  silver,  and 
other  costly  gifts.  But  the  greatest  gift  was  her 
youth  and  beauty,  which  she  submitted,  it  is 
said,  to  the  enamoured  prince,  who  after  enter- 
taining her  with  the  utmost  magnificence  and 
distinction,1  restored  her  to  Cilicia  by  a near, 
but  difficult  road,  which  led  across  the  moun- 
tains. 

To  the  escort  which  accompanied  her,  Cyrus 
added  a considerable  body  of  Greeks  com- 
manded by  Menon  the  Thessalian.  The  greater 
part  arrived  at  Tarsus,  the  capital,  before  the 
army  of  Cyrus  reached  the  gates  of  Cilicia ; 
but  two  companies,  amounting  together  to  a 
hundred  men,  were  missing,  and  supposed  to 
have  been  destroyed  by  the  mountaineers,  while 
they  wandered  in  quest  of  booty.  Syennesis 
was  mortified  at  hearing  that  the  enemy  had 
already  entered  his  province.  But  when  he 
likewise  received  intelligence  that  the  Pelopon- 
nesian fleet  had  sailed  round  from  Ionia,  in  or- 
der to  co-operate  with  the  army,  the  disagree- 
able news  totally  disconcerted  the  measures  of 
his  defence.  He  fled  in  precipitation,  abandon- 
ing his  tents  and  baggage  to  the  invaders.  Cy- 
rus crossed  the  mountains  without  opposition, 
and  traversed  the  beautiful  irriguous  plains  of 
Cilicia,  which  were  adorned  with  trees  and 
vines,  and  abounded  in  sesame,  panic,  millet, 
wheat,  and  barley.  In  four  days  he  arrived  at 
the  large  and  rich  city  of  Tarsus,  which  was 
plundered  by  the  resentment  of  the  Greeks, 
for  the  loss  of  their  companions. 

Cyrus  immediately  sent  for  the  governor, 
who  had  removed  from  his  palace,  and,  attend- 
ed by  the  greater  part  of  the  inhabitants,  had 
taken  refuge  among  the  fastnesses  in  the  neigh- 
bouring mountains.  By  the  assurances  of 
Epyaxa,  her  timorous2  husband  was  with  much 
difficulty  persuaded  to  put  himself  in  the  power 
of  a superior,  to  whom,  as  the  price  of  his 
safety,  he  carried  large  sums  of  money.  Cyrus 
courteously  accepted  the  welcome  supply, 
which  the  demands  of  his  troops  rendered  pe- 
culiarly seasonable ; and,  in  return,  honoured 
Syennesis  with  such  presents  as  were  deemed 
of  great  value  by  the  king^of  the  east.  They 
consisted  in  a Persian  robe,  a horse  with  a gol- 
den bit,  a chain,  bracelets,  and  scimitar  of  gold, 
the  restoration  of  prisoners,  and  the  exemption 
of  Cilicia  from  farther  plunder.3 

During  their  luxurious  residence  at  Tarsus, 
the  Greeks  were  corrupted  by  prosperity.  They 


1 She  requested  Cyrus  to  show  her  his  troops.  He  com- 
plied ; and  attended  her  coach  in  an  open  car.  But  the 
curiosity  of  Epyaxa  had  almost  cost  her  dear.  “ When  the 
Barbarians  were  reviewed,  the  Greeks  were  ordered  to  their 
arms,  and  commanded  to  advance,  as  to  a charge;  after 
which,  the  soldiers  of  their  own  accord,  ran  with  shouts  to 
their  tents.  The  Barbarians  were  thrown  into  consterna- 
tion ; Epyaxa  quitted  her  coach ; the  Greeks  returned 
laughing  to  their  tents ; and  Cyrus  rejoiced  at  seeing  the 
terror  with  which  the  Greeks  had  inspired  the  Barbarians.” 
Xenoph.  Anabas.  1.  i.  p.  247. 

2 Pride,  as  well  as  fear,  seems  to  have  actuated  Syenne- 

sis;  6 Se  ov$i  7r/> otsjov  ouJevi  wai  xqiitto'vi  cx utoo  tig 
%ti(xg  t\9t iv  £Cm,  ouSe  tote  JCvg-ju  ittvx  >)5£X.6,  srjiv  >)  yuvi) 
xvtov  nrna-i  ; “Syennesis  declared,  that  he  had  never  for- 
merly put  himself  in  the  power  of  a man  in  any  respect  su- 
perior to  himself;  nor  would  he  then  go  to  Cyrus,  till  his 
wife  persuaded  him,”  &c.  A true  picture  of  oriental  man- 
ners, meanness  varnished  with  pride  1 

3 Xenophon.  Anabas.  p.  249. 


disdained  to  obey  their  commanders,  and  re- 
fused to  continue  their  journey.  The  design 
of  marching  to  Babylon,  though  it  was  not  un- 
known to  Clearchus,  or  to  the  Spartan  senate, 
had  been  concealed  from  the  soldiers,  lest  their 
impatience  or  their  fears  might  be  alarmed  by 
the  prospect  of  such  a long  and  dangerous  un- 
dertaking. At  Tarsus  they  first  discovered 
their  suspicions  of  deceit,  which  immediately 
broke  out  into  licentious  clamours.  They  in- 
sulted the  majesty  of  Cyrus ; they  reproached 
the  perfidy  of  their  generals ; and  their  anger 
was  ready  to  vent  itself  in  open  sedition,  when 
the  ferment  was  appeased  by  the  address  and 
prudence  of  Clearchus.  While  he  privately 
assured  Cyrus  of  his  best  endeavours  to  make 
the  affair  take  a favourable  turn,  he  openly  em- 
braced the  cause  of  the  soldiers,  affected  deeply 
to  feel  their  grievances,  and  eagerly  concurred 
with  every  measure  that  seemed  proper  to  re- 
move them.  His  eloquence  and  his  tears  di- 
verted the  design  of  immediate  hostility.  An 
assembly  was  summoned  to  deliberate  on  the 
actual  posture  of  affairs.  Several,  of  their  own 
accord,  offered  their  opinion  ; others  spoke  aj 
they  had  been  directed  by  Clearchus.  One 
counsellor,  who  was  heard  with  applause,  ad- 
vised them  to  pack  up  their  baggage,  and  to  de- 
mand guides  or  ships  from  Cyrus,  to  facilitate 
their  return.  Another  showed  the  folly  of  this 
request  from  a man  whose  measures  they  had 
traversed,  and  whose  purpose  they  had  endea- 
voured to  defeat.4  They  surely  could  not  trust 
in  guides  given  them  by  an  enemy ; nor  could 
it  be  expected  that  Cyrus  should  part  with  his 
ships,  which  were  evidently  so  necessary  to  the 
success  of  his  expedition.  At  length  it  was 
determined  to  send  commissioners  to  treat  with 
Cyrus,  that  he  might  either,  by  granting  the 
demands  of  the  Greeks,  prevail  on  them  to  fol- 
low him,  or  be  himself  prevailed  on  to  allow 
them  to  return  home  ; and  the  difference  was 
thus  finally  adjusted,  by  promising  each  soldier 
a darick  and  a half,  instead  of  a darick,  of 
monthly  pay.5 

When  this  storm  was  happily  appeased,  the 
enemy  left  Tarsus,  and  marched  five  days 
through  the  fertile  plains  of  Cilicia,  till  they 
arrived  at  Issus,  the  last  town  of  the  province  ; 
large,  rich,  and  populous ; and  only  fifteen 
miles  distant  from  the  frontier  of  Syria.  This 
wealthy  province  was  defended  by  two  for- 
tresses, called  the  Gates  of  Syria  and  Cilicia. 
They  extended  from  the  mountains  to  the  sea. 
The  interval  of  three  furlongs  between  them 

4 This  passage  is  translated  as  follows  by  Mr.  Spelman  : 
“After  him  another  got  up,  showing  the  lolly  of  the  man 
who  advised  to  demand  the  ships,  as  if  Cyrus  would  not 
resume  his  expedition.  He  showed  also  how  weak  a thins 
it  was  to  apply  for  a guide  to  that  person  whose  undertaking 
we  had  defeated.”  If  Cyrus  resumed  his  expedition,  it 
could  not  be  said  that  his  undertaking  was  defeated  ; nor 
is  this  the  proper  meaning  of  the  word  A-v^aivo/tEB*,  which 
signifies  to  hurt  or  weaken.  I am  sensible  that  by  an  easy 
transition,  it  sometimes  signifies  to  corrupt,  to  destroy,  to 
defeat;  but  in  the  passage  before  us.  if  a translator  should 
choose  to  explain  it  by  any  of  those  words,  he  must  say, 
“ whose  undertaking  we  had  begun,  endeavoured,  or  pur- 
posed to  defeat;”  an  explanation  of  yvftxivoptSx,  which  is 
justified  by  the  analogy  of  the  Greek  language,  and  which 
the  sense  absolutely  requires.  This  is  one  of  the  few  mi- 
nute mistakes  which  I have  discovered  in  Mr.  Speh.ian’s 
most  accurate  translation. 

5 Xenoph.  Anabas.  p.  250.  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


285 


XXV.] 

contained  several  passes,  narrow  and  intricate, 
besides  the  rapid  Kersas,  which  flowed  in  the 
middle,  one  hundred  feet  in  breadth.  It  was 
on  this  occasion  that  Cyrus  experienced  the  full 
advantage  of  the  Lacedaemonian  assistance. 
A fleet  of  sixty  sail,  conducted  by  Pythagoras 
the  Spartan,  who  had  succeeded  Samius  in  the 
naval  command,  prepared  to  land  the  Greeks 
on  the  eastern  side  of  the  gates,  which  must 
have  exposed  the  Syrian  works  to  a double  as- 
sault ; but  the  cowardice  of  Abracomas,  who 
commanded  the  numerous  forces  of  Syria  and 
Phoenicia,  rendered  the  execution  of  this  mea- 
sure unnecessary.  The  design,  alone,  was  suf- 
ficient to  terrify  him.  He  abandoned  his  forts, 
and  fled  with  precipitation  before  the  approach 
of  an  enemy.6 

Cyrus  thenceforth  proceeded  without  meet- 
ing with  any  appearance  of  opposition,  and  in 
fifteen  days’  march,  reached  the  banks  of  the 
Euphrates.  At  Thapsacus,  which  in  some 
eastern  languages  signifies  the  ford,7  this  noble 
river  is  above  half  a mile  in  breadth,  but  so  | 
shoaly  that  the  navigation  is  reckoned  danger- 
ous  even  for  boats  which  draw  very  little  water. 
The  shallowness  increases  in  the  autumnal  sea- 
son, which  happened  to  be  the  time  that  the 
army  passed  the  Euphrates,  which  no  where 
reached  above  the  breast.  This  favourable 
circumstance  furnished  an  opportunity  to  the 
inhabitants  of  Thapsacus  to  flatter  Cyrus,  that 
the  great  river  had  visibly  submitted  to  him  as 
its  future  king.®  Elevated  by  this  auspicious 
prediction,  he  pursued  his  journey  through  Me- 
sopotamia, part  of  which  was  anciently  com- 
prehended under  the  name  of  Syria.6 9  While  he 
proceeded  through  this  fertile  country  he  did 
not  forget  that  a laborious  march  of  seventeen 
days,  tflrough  a barren  desert,  must  conduct  him 
to  the  cultivated  plains  of  Babylon. 

Having  amply  provided  for  this  dangerous 
undertaking,  he  performed  it  with  uncommon 
celerity,  both  in  order  to  avoid  risking  the  want 
of  provisions,  and,  if  possible,  to  take  his  enemy 
unprepared.  For  several  days  the  army  march- 
ed, without  interruption,  through  the  province 
of  Babylonia;  and,  on  the  fifth,  came  to  a deep 
and  broad  ditch,  which  had  been  recently  dug 
to  intercept,  or  retard,  their  passage.  But  as 
this  defence  was  left  altogether  unguarded,  and 
the  great  king  had  taken  no  measures  to  pro- 
tect the  most  valuable  portion  of  his  domi- 
nions, it  was  generally  believed  that  he  had  laid 
aside  the  design  of  venturing  an  engagement. 
The  troops  of  Cyrus  therefore,  who  had,hitherto 
maintained  their  ranks  with  circumspection, 
no  longer  observed  any  order  of  march  ; their 
arms  were  carried  in  wagons,  or  on  sumpter 
horses ; and  their,  general,  in  his  car,  rode  in 
the  van  with  few  armed  attendants.  While 
they  proceeded  in  this  fearless  contempt  of  the 
enemy,  and  approached  the  plain  of  Cynaxa, 
which  is  within  a day’s  journey  of  Babylon,10 * 


6 Xenoph.  Anabas.  p.  253.  etseq. 

7 Foster’s  Geographical  Dissertation  on  Xenophon’s  Re- 
treat. 

8 Zenoph.  p.  255. 

9 So  it  is  called  by  Xenoph.  ibid. 

10  I have  used  an  indeterminate  expression  to  denote 
the  uncertain  situation  of  thoso  places  as  described  by 
Strabo,  1.  ii.  et  Plut  in  Artaxerxes.  Mr.  Spelman  justly 


Patagyas,  a Persian,  and  confidential  friend  of 
Cyrus,  came  riding  towards  them  in  full  speed, 
his  horse  all  in  a foam,  calling  aloud  succes- 
sively in  his  own  language,  and  in  Greek,  that 
the  king  was  at  hand  with  a vast  army.11 

The  experienced  Greeks^  who  best  knew  the 
danger  of  being  attacked  in  disorder,  were  most 
sensibly  alarmed  by  this  sudden  surprise.  Cy- 
rus, leaping  from  his  car,  put  on  his  corslet, 
mounted  his  horse,  seized  his  javelin,  command- 
ed his  troops  to  arm,  and  ordered  every  man  to 
his  post.  His  orders  were  readily  obeyed ; and 
the  army  advanced,  several  hours,  in  order  of 
battle.  It  was  now  mid-day;  yet  no  enemy 
appeared : but  in  the  afternoon  they  perceived 
a dust  like  a white  cloud,  which  gradually 
thickened  into  darkness,  and  overspread  the 
plain.  At  length  the  brazen  armour  flashed; 
the  motion,  the  ranks,  and  spears,  were  dis- 
tinctly seen.  In  the  front  were  innumerable 
chariots,  armed  with  scythes  in  a downward, 
and,  in  an  oblique  direction.  The  cavalry, 
commanded  by  Tissaphernes,  were  distinguish- 
ed by  white  corslets ; the  Persians  by  wicker 
bucklers ; the  Egyptians  by  wooden  shields 
reaching  down  to  their  feet.  These  formed  the 
chief  strength  of  Artaxerxes ; but  the  various 
multitude  of  nations,  marching  in  separate  co- 
lumns according  to  their  respective  countries, 
had  scarcely  any  armour  of  defence,  and  could 
annoy  the  enemy  only  at  a distance,  with  their 
slings,  darts,  and  arrows.12 

While  the  hostile  battalions  approached,  Cy- 
rus, accompanied  by  Pigres  the  interpreter,  and 
a few  chosen  attendants,  all  mounted  on  horses 
of  extraordinary  swiftness,  rode  through  the 
intermediate  space,  observing  the  numbers  and 
disposition  of  the  enemy.  He  had  learned  from 
deserters,  that  the  troops  of  the  great  king 
amounted  to  twelve  hundred  thousand,  divided 
into  four  equal  bodies  of  men,  respectively  com- 
manded by  the  four  generals,  Tissaphernes,  Go- 
brias,  Arbaces,  and  Abracomas.  The  last,  how- 
ever, had  not  yet  joined;  nor  did  he  reach  Ba- 
bylonia until  five  days  after  the  battle.  But, 
notwithstanding  this  defect,  the  numbers  of 
Artaxerxes  were  still  sufficient  to  perform  what- 
ever numbers  can  accomplish.  According  to 
the  custom  of  the  East,  the  king,  surrounded 
by  a chosen  body  of  cavalry,  occupied  the  cen- 
tre of  the  army,  as  the  place  of  greatest  secu- 
rity, and  most  convenient  for  issuing  his  orders 
with  promptitude  and  effect.  But  such  was 
the  extent  of  ground  covered  by  the  various 
nations  whom  he  commanded,  that  even  his 
centre  reached  beyond  the  left  wing  of  the  army 
of  Cyrus;  who,  therefore,  called  aloud  to  Clear- 
chus  to  advance  opposite  to  the  kings  guard, 
because,  if  that  should  be  broken,  the  work 
would  be  done.  Put  Clearchus  was  unwilling 
to  withdraw  the  Greeks  from  the  Euphrates, 
lest  they  should  be  surrounded  by  the  enemy; 
he  therefore  kept  his  post,  assuring  Cyrus  of 
his  utmost  care  to  make  all  go  well. 


observes,  that  the  error  of  Xenophon  (unnoticed  by  any 
former  translator,)  who  makes  the  distance  between  B»i  »• 
Ion  throe  thousand  and  sixty  stadia,  is  so  enormous,  t ; 
can  only  be  owing  to  a mistake  of  the  transcriber 

1 1 Xenoph.  p.  263. 

12  Xenoph.  p.  263,  et  seq. 


286 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


The  disobedience  of  Clearchus,  and  the  dis- 
trust of  Cyrus,  threw  away  the  fortune  of  the 
day,  which  involved  the  fate  of  Persia,  and  the 
renown  of  Greece.  For  although,  by  skilful 
evolutions,  Clearchus  eluded  the 
ymV'  armed  chariots  and  cavalry  of  the 
’ q enemy ; though  the  Greeks,  by  their 
* ’ * countenance  and  shouts  alone,  put 

to  flight  the  opposing  crowd,  who  could  not  en- 
dure the  sight  of  their  regular  array,  their  bur- 
nished arms,  or  hear  without  terror  the  martial 
sounds  of  their  harmonious  Paeans,  intermixed 
with  the  clanging  of  their  spears  against  their 
brazen  bucklers ; yet  the  great  king,  perceiving 
the  rapid  pursuit  of  the  Greeks,  and  that  no- 
thing opposed  him  in  front,  commanded  his 
men  to  wheel  to  the  left,  and  advanced  with 
celerity  in  order  to  attack  the  rear  of  the  enemy. 
If  this  design  had  been  carried  into  execution, 
it  is  probable  that  the  Greeks,  having  prevailed 
on  the  first  onset,  would  immediately  have 
faced  about,  and,  animated  by  the  joy  of  vic- 
tory, and  their  native  ardour,  have  repelled  and 
routed  the  troops  of  Artaxerxes. 

But  the  impatience  of  Cyrus  defeated  this 
favourable  prospect.  He  observed  the  move- 
ment of  his  brother,  and  eagerly  rode  to  meet 
him,  at  the  head  of  only  six  hundred  horse. 
Such  was  the  rapid  violence  of  his  assault,  that 
the  advanced  guards  of  the  king  were  thrown 
into  disorder,  and  their  leader,  Artagerses  fell 
by  the  hand  of  Cyrus,  who,  with  all  his  great 
qualities,  had  not  learned  to  distinguish  be- 
tween the  duties  of  a soldier  and  a general.  By 
a seasonable  retreat  he  might  still,  perhaps, 
have  saved  his  life,  and  gained  a crown.  But 
his  eye  darting  along  the  ranks,  met  that  of  his 
brother.  He  rushed  forward,  with  a blind  in- 
stinctive fury,  crying  out,  “I  see  the  man!” 
and,  penetrating  the  thick  globe  of  attendants, 
aimed  his  javelin  at  the  king,  pierced  his  cors- 
let, and  wounded  his  breast.  His  eagerness  to 
destroy  the  enemy  prevented  proper  attention 
to  save  himself.  From  an  uncertain  hand  he 
received  a severe  wound  in  the  face,  which, 
however,  only  increased  the  fury  with  which  he 
assaulted  his  brother.  Various  and  inconsis- 
tent accounts  were  given  of  the  death  of  Cyrus, 
even  by  those  who  assisted  in  this  memorable 
engagement.  The  crowd  of  historians  thought 
it  incumbent  on  them  to  make  him  die  like  the 
hero  of  a tragedy,  after  many  vicissitudes  of 
fortune,  and  many  variations  of  misery.  Dinon 
and  Ctesias,1  the  longer  to  suspend  the  curiosity 
of  their  readers,  kill  him  as  with  a blunted  wea- 
pon; but  Xenophon  is  contented  with  saying, 
that  he  fell  in  the  tumultuary  conflict  of  his  at- 
tendants with  the  guards  of  Artaxerxes,  who 
zealously  defended  their  respective  masters ; 
and  that  eight  of  his  most  confidential  friends 
lay  dead  upon  him,  thus  sealing  with  their 
blood  their  inviolable  affection  and  fidelity.2 

Such  was  the  catastrophe  of  this  audacious 
and  fatal  enterprise  ; after  which  the  troops  of 
Artaxerxes  advanced,  in  the  ardour  of  success, 
and  proceeded  without  encountering  any  re- 
sistance to  the  hostile  camp  ; Ariaeus  leading 
off  the  forces  of  Lesser  Asia,  dejected  and  dis- 


I^Chaf. 

mayed  by  the  loss  of  their  prince  and  general. 
Among  the  valuable  plunder  in  the  tents  of  Cy- 
rus, the  Barbarians  found  two  Grecian  women, 
his  favourite  mistresses,  the  elder  of  Phocaea, 
the  younger  of  Miletus.  The  former,  whose 
wit  and  accomplishments  heightened  the  charms 
of  her  beauty,  received  and  deserved  the  name 
of  Aspasia,  from  the  celebrated  mistress  of 
Pericles,  whose  talents  she  rivalled,  and  whose 
character  she  too  faithfully  resembled.  The 
young  Milesian  likewise  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  enemy;  but  while  carelessly  guarded  by  the 
Barbarians,  intent  on  more  useful  plunder,  es- 
caped unobserved,  and  arrived  naked  in  the 
quarter  of  the  Greeks,  where  a small  guard 
had  been  left  to  defend  the  baggage. 

Mean  while  Clearchus,  at  the  head  of  the 
Grecian  phalanx,  pursuing  the  fugitives,  had 
been  carried  above  the  distance  of  three  miles 
from  Artaxerxes.  But  when  he  heard  that  the 
Barbarians  were  in  his  tent;  and  perceived, 
that,  tired  with  plunder,  they  advanced  to  at- 
tack his  rear,  he  faced  about  in  order  to  receive 
them.  The  time  was  spent  till  sun-set,  in  va- 
rious dispositions  made  by  the  cavalry  of  Ar- 
taxerxes; but  neither  the  soldiers,  nor  their 
commanders,  had  courage  to  come  within  the 
reach  of  the  Grecian  spear.  They  fled  in  scat- 
tered disorder,  wherever  the  Grecians  advanc- 
ed ; who,  wearied  with  marching  against  an 
enemy  that  seemed  incapable  to  fight,  at  length 
determined  to  return  to  their  camp;  wondering 
that  neither  Cyrus  himself  appeared,  nor  any 
of  his  messengers.3  They  arrived  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  night ; but  found  their  tents  in  dis- 
order, their  baggage  plundered,  their  provisions 
destroyed  or  spent.  They  chiefly  regretted  the 
loss  of  four  hundred  carriages  filled  with  wine 
and  flour,  which  had  been  provided  by  th^  fore- 
sight of  Cyrus,  as  a resource  in  time  of  want. 
Even  these  were  rifled  by  the  king’s  troops ; 
and  the  Greeks,  whom  the  sudden  appearance 
of  the  enemy  had  not  allowed  to  dine,  were 
obliged  to  pass  the  night  without  supper;  their 
bodies  exhausted  by  the  fatigue  of  a laborious 
day,  and  their  minds  perplexed  by  the  uncertain 
fate  of  their  allies.4 

At  the  approach  of  light,  they  prepared  to 
move  their  camp,  when  the  messengers  of 
Ariaeus  arrived,  acquainting  them  with  the  death 
of  Cyrus.  The  new  cpmmander,  they  said,  had 
assembled  the  troops  of  Lesser  Asia  in  their 
former  encampment,  about  twelve  miles  from 
the  field  of  battle ; where  he  intended  to  con- 
tinue that  day,  that  the  Greeks  might  have 
time  to  join  him ; but  if  they  delayed,  he  would 
next  day  proceed,  without  them,  towards  Ionia, 
with  the  utmost  expedition.  When  the  Greeks 
recovered  from  the  consternation  into  which 
they  were  thrown  by  these  unexpected  and 
melancholy  tidings,  Clearchus  replied,  “Would 


3 In  relating  this  battle,  I have  followed  the  advice  of 
Plutarch  in  Artaxerxes,  who  says,  “that  Xenophon  has 
described  it  with  such  perspicuity,  elegance,  and  force,  as 
sets  the  action  before  the  eyes  of  his  reader,  and  makes 
him  assist  with  emotion  at  every  incident,  not  as  past,  but 
as  present.  A man  of  sense,  therefore,  will  despair  to  rival 
Xenophon;  and,  instead  of  relating  the  action  in  detail, 
will  select  such  circumstances  only  as  are  most  worthy  of 
notice.” 

4 Xenoph.  p.  270  et  sec. 


1 Apud  Plutarch,  in  Artaxerx. 


2 Xenoph.  p.  266. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


287 


XXV.] 

to  God  Cyrus  were  alive ! but  since  he  is  dead, 
let  Ariaeus  know,  that  we  have  conquered  the 
king;  that  his  troops  have  every  where  fled 
before  us;  and  that  now  no  enemy  appears  to 
resist  our  arms.  You  may,  therefore,  assure 
Ariaeus,  that  if  he  will  come  hither,  we  will 
place  him  on  the  Persian  throne,  which  is  the 
just  reward  of  our  victory.”  With  this  propo- 
sal the  messengers  departed,  and  Clearchus  led 
his  troops  to  the  field  of  battle,  to  collect  pro- 
visions, which  were  prepared  by  using  for  fuel 
the  wooden  bucklers,  shields,  and  arrows,  of 
the  Barbarians.5 

Next  morning  heralds  arrived  from  Artaxer- 
xes,  who  entertained  a very  different  opinion 
from  that  expressed  by  Clearchus,  concerning 
the  issue  of  the  battle.  Among  these  respected 
ministers  was  Philinus,  a fugitive  Greek,  a man 
esteemed  by  Tissaphernes,  both  as  a skilful  cap- 
tain and  as  an  able  negociator.  When  the 
chiefs  were  assembled,  Philinus,  speaking  for 
his  colleagues,  declared  it  to  be  the  will  of  the 
great  king,  who  had  defeated  and  killed  Cyrus, 
“ That  the  Greeks,  who  had  now  become  the 
slaves  of  the  conqueror,  should  surrender  their 
arms.”  The  demand  was  heard  with  universal 
indignation.  One  desired  him  to  tell  the  king, 
“to  come  and  take  them;”  another,  “that  it 
was  better  to  die,  than  to  deliver  up  their  arms.” 
Xenophon  spoke  to  the  following  purpose : “ We 
have  nothing,  as  you  see,  O Philinus ! but  our 
arms,  and  our  valour.  While  we  keep  posses- 
sion of  the  one,  we  can  avail  ourselves  of  the 
other : but  if  we  deliver  up  our  arms,  we  also 
surrender  our  persons.  Do  not  therefore  ex- 
pect that  we  shall  throw  away  the  only  advan- 
tages which  we  still  enjoy;  on  the  contrary,  be 
assured,  that,  relying  on  our  arms  and  our  va- 
lour, wo  w ill  dispute  with  you  those  advantages 
which  you  possess.”  Clearchus  enforced  the 
sentiments  of  Xenophon,  which  were  confirmed 
by  the  army;  and  Philinus,  after  a fruitless  at- 
tempt to  discover  the  immediate  designs  of  the 
Greeks,  returned  with  his  colleagues  to  the 
Persian  camp.6 

Mean  while,  Ariaeus  replied  to  the  honourable 
embassy  which  had  been  sent  him,  “ That  there 
were  many  Persians  of  greater  consideration 
than  himself,  who  would  never  permit  him  to 
be  their  king;  he  repeated  his  desire  that  the 
Greeks  should  join  him ; but,  if  they  declined  to 
come,  persisted  in  his  resolution  of  returning 
with  all  haste  to  Ionia.”  This  proposal  was 
approved  by  the  propitious  indications  of  the 
victims : the  army  marched  in  order  of  battle  to 
the  encampment  of  Ariaeus ; who,  with  the 
most  distinguished  of  his  captains,  entered  into 
treaty  with  the  Grecian  commanders,  binding 
themselves  by  mutual  oaths  to  perform  to  each 
other  the  duties  of  faithful  and  affectionate 
allies.  Having  ratified  this  engagement  by  a 
solemn  sacrifice,  they  proceeded  to  deliberate 
concerning  their  intended  journey.  It  was 
determined,  that  instead  of  traversing  the  deso- 
lated country  by  which  they  had  arrived  at  the 
field  of  battle,  they  should  direct  their  course 
towards  the  north,  by  which  means  they  would 
avoid  the  desert,  acquire  provisions  in  greater 


plenty,  and  cross  the  great  rivers,  which  com- 
monly diminish  near  their  source,  with  less 
difficulty  and  danger.  They  resolved  also  to 
perform  their  first  marches  with  all  possible 
expedition,  in  order  to  anticipate  the  king’s  ap- 
proach ; since  with  a small  force  he  would  not 
dare  to  follow,  and  with  a great  army  he  would 
not  be  able  to  overtake  them.7 

This  plan  of  retreat  proposed  by  Ariaeus,  had 
the  dishonourable  appearance  of  flight;  but  for- 
tune proved  a more  glorious  conductor.  Such 
was  the  effect  of  the  Grecian  courage  and  firm- 
ness on  the  counsels  of  Artaxerxes,  that  he,  who 
had  so  lately  commanded  the  soldiers  to  surren- 
der their  arms,  sent  heralds  to  them  the  day 
following  to  treat  of  a truce.  This  memorable 
agreement,  the  consequences  of  which  were  so 
calamitous,  yet  so  honourable  to  the  Greeks, 
was  concluded  by  the  intervention  of  Tissa- 
phernes ; who  engaged,  on  the  part  of  his 
master,  to  furnish  them  with  a market,  to 
cause  them  to  be  treated  as  friends  in  the  coun- 
tries through  which  they  marched,  and  to  con- 
duct them  without  guile  into  Greece.  For  the 
Greeks,  on  the  other  hand,  Clearchus  and  the 
generals  swore,  that  they  should  abstain  from 
ravaging  the  king’s  territories ; that  they  should 
supply  themselves  with  meat  and  drink  only, 
when,  by  any  accident,  the  market  was  not 
provided  ; but  when  it  was,  that  they  should 
purchase  whatever  they  wanted  for  a reasonable 
price.8 

When  this  business  was  transacted,  Tissa- 
phernes returned  to  the  king,  promising  to  come 
back  as  soon  as  possible.  But  on  various  pre- 
tences, he  delayed  twenty  days ; during  which 
the  Persians  had  an  opportunity  to  practise 
with  Ariaeus.  By  the  dread  of  punishment,  if 
he  persisted  in  rebellion  ; by  the  promise  of  par- 
don, if  he  returned  to  his  allegiance ; and,  above 
all,  by  the  warm  solicitation  of  his  kinsmen  and 
friends,  that  unsteady  Barbarian  was  totally 
detached  from  the  interest  of  his  Grecian  allies. 
His  conduct  gave  just  ground  to  suspect  this 
disposition,  which  became  fully  evident  after 
the  return  of  Tissaphernes.  From  that  moment 
Ariaeus  no  longer  encamped  with  the  Greeks, 
but  preferred  the  neighbourhood  of  that  per- 
fidious satrap.  Yet,  for  three  wTeeks,  no  open 
hostility  was  committed ; the  armies,  fearing, 
and  feared  by  each  other,  pursued  the  same  line 
of  march  ; Tissaphernes  led  the  way  ; and,  ac- 
cording to  agreement,  furnished  the  Greeks 
with  a market ; but  treacherously  increased  the 
difficulty  of  their  journey,  by  conducting  them 
by  many  windings  through  the  canals  and 
marches  between  the  Tigris  and  Euphrates. 
When  they  had  crossed  the  former  river,  they 
continued  to  march  northward  along  its  eastern 
banks,  always  encamping  at  the  distance  of  two 
or  three  miles  from  the  Barbarians.  Yet  this 
precaution  was  unable  to  prevent  the  parties 
sent  out  to  provide  wood  or  forage  from  quar- 
relling with  each  other.  From  reproachful 
words,  they  soon  proceeded  to  hostile  actions ; 
and  these  partial  encounters  were  likely  to  pro- 
duce the  worst  consequences,  by  inflaming  the 


5 Xenoph.  p.  272. 


6 Id  p.  273. 


7 Xenoph.  p.  276. 

8 Ibid.  p.  281,  et  seq. 


288 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


latent,  but  general  animosity,  which  it  had  been 
so  difficult  to  stifle  or  conceal.1 

At  length  they  arrived  at  the  fatal  scene, 
where  the  river  Zabatus,  flowing  westward 
from  the  mountains  of  Media,  pours  its  tributary 
waters  into  the  broad  stream  of  the  Tigris. 
The  Grecian  generals,  and  particularly  Clear- 
chus,  who  had  long  seen  and  lamented  the 
unfortunate  jealousies  prevailing  among  those 
who  had  sworn  mutual  fidelity,  proposed  a 
conference  between  the  commanders,  in  order 
amicably  to  explain  and  remove  every  ground 
of  hatred  and  complaint.  Tissaphernes  and 
Ariaeus,  as  well  as  their  colleague  Orontes, 
eagerly  desired  the  conference,  though  their 
motives  were  very  different  from  those  which 
actuated  Clearchus.  A measure  so  agreeable  to 
both  parties  was,  without  difficulty,  carried 
into  execution;  and  the  Greeks,  on  this  occasion 
alone,  forsook  that  prudence  and  caution,  which, 
both  before  and  after,  uniformly  governed  their 
conduct.  Five  generals,  and  twenty  captains, 
repaired  to  the  tent  of  Tissaphernes  ; only  two 
hundred  soldiers  followed  them,  under  pretence 
of  going  to  market.  Clearchus  with  his  col- 
leagues, Menon,  Proxenus,  Agias,  and  So- 
crates, were  conducted  into  the  satrap's  apart- 
ment ; the  rest,  whether  captains  or  soldiers, 
were  not  allowed  to  enter.  The  separation 
occasioned  fear  and  distrust.  The  appearance 
of  armed  Barbarians  increased  the  terror.  A 
gloomy  silence  prevailed ; when,  on  a given 
signal,  those  within  the  tent  were  apprehended, 
and  those  without  cut  to  pieces.  At  the  same 
time  the  Persian  cavalry  scoured  the  plain, 
destroying  whomsoever  they  encountered.  The 
Greeks  were  astonished  at  this  mad  excursion, 
which  they  beheld  from  their  camp ; until 
Nicarchus,  an  Arcadian,  came,  miserably  man- 
gled, and  informed  them  of  the  dreadful  tragedy 
that  had  been  acted.2 

Upon  this  intelligence  they  ran  to  their  arms, 
expecting  an  immediate  assault.  But  the  cow- 
ardly Barbarians,  not  daring  to  engage  in  open 
and  honourable  war,  endeavoured  to  accomplish 
their  designs  by  the  same  impious  treachery 
with  which  they  had  begun  them.  Instead  of 
advancing  in  a body  to  attack  the  Grecian 
camp,  they  sent  Ariaaus,  Arteazus,  and  Mithri- 
dates,  persons  whose  great  credit  with  Cyrus 


[Chap. 

might  prevent  their  intentions  from  being  sus- 
pected by  the  enemy.  They  were  attended  by 
three  hundred  Persians,  clad  in  complete  armour. 
When  they  drew  near  to  the  Greeks,  a herald 
called  out,  “That,  if  any  of  the  generals  or 
captains  were  present,  they  should  advance,  in 
order  to  be  made  acquainted  with  the  king’s 
pleasure.”  Cheirisophus  the  Lacedaemonian, 
who,  next  to  Clearchus,  had  hitherto  maintained 
the  greatest  influence  over  the  army,  happened 
to  be  absent  with  a party  of  foragers.  But  the 
remaining  generals,  Cleanor  the  Orchomenian, 
and  Sophonetus  the  Stymphalian,  proceeded 
with  caution  from  the  camp,  accompanied  by 
Xenophon  the  Athenian,  who  (though  only  a 
volunteer)  followed  the  commanders,  that  he 
might  learn  what  was  become  of  his  friend 
Proxenus.3  When  they  came  within  hearing 
of  the  Barbarians,  Ariaeus  said,  “ Clearchus,  O 
Greeks  ! having  violated  his  oath,  and  the  arti- 
cles of  peace,  is  punished  with  just  death  ; but 
Proxenus  and  Menon,  who  gave  information  of 
his  crimes,  are  rewarded  with  the  king’s  favour. 
Of  you  the  king  demands  your  arms,  which,  he 
says,  are  now  his  property ,,  because  they  be- 
longed to  Cyrus,  who  was  his  slave.”  Cleanor 
the  Orchomenian,  speaking  in  the  name  of  the 
rest,  replied  to  this  demand  with  the  utmost  in- 
dignation, reproaching  the  perfidy  of  Ariseus, 
who  had  betrayed  the  friends  and  benefactors 
of  his  master  Cyrus;  and  who  co-operated  with 
the  enemy  of  that  master,  the  deceitful  and  im- 
pious Tissaphernes.  The  Persian  endeavoured 
to  justify  himself,  by  repeating  his  accusation  of 
Clearchus.  Upon  which  Xenophon  observed, 
“ That  Clearchus,  if  guilty  of  perjury,  had  been 
justly  punished ; but  where  are  Proxenus  and 
Menon,  who  are  your  benefactors,  and  our  com- 
manders? Let  them,  at  least,  be  sent  to  us, 
since  it  is  evident  that  their  friendship  for  both 
parties  will  make  them  advise  what  is  best  for 
both.”  This  reasonable  request  it  was  impos- 
sible to  elude  ; and  the  Barbarians,  after  long 
conferring  together,  departed  without  attempt- 
ing an  answer.4  Their  mean  duplicity  in  this 
interview  sufficiently  indicated  the  unhappy 
treatment  of  the  Grecian  commanders,  who 
were  kept  in  close  captivity,  and  afterwards 
sent  to  Artaxerxes,  by  whose  order  they  were 
put  to  death. 


1 Xenoph.  p,  282. 


2 Xenoph.  p.  286,  et  seq. 


3 Xenoph.  p.  288,  et  seq. 


4 Ibid.  p.  289. 


XXVL] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


289 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 

Consternation  of  the  Greeks — Manly  Advice  of  Xenophon — Their  Retreat — Difficulties  attend - 
ing  it — Surmounted  by  their  Skill  and  Perseverance — Their  Sufferings  among  the  Carduchian 
Mountains — They  traverse  Armenia — First  behold  the  Sea  from  Mount  Theches — Defeat  the 
Colchians — Description  of  the  southern  Shore  of  the  Euxine — Transactions  with  the  Greek 
Colonies  there — The  Greeks  arrive  at  Byzantium — Enter  into  the  Service  of  Seuthes — His 
History — Conjunct  Expeditions  of  the  Greeks  and  Thracians — The  Greeks  return  to  the  Ser- 
vice of  their  Country. 


T^HE  perfidious  assassination  of  their  com- 
manders  converted  the  alarm  and  terror, 
that  had  hitherto  reigned  in  the  Grecian  camp, 
into  consternation  and  despair.  This  dreadful 
catastrophe  completed  the  afflictions  of  men  dis- 
tant above  twelve  hundred  miles  from  their  na- 
tive land ; surrounded  by  craggy  mountains, 
deep  and  rapid  rivers;  by  famine,  war,  and  the 
treachery  of  their  allies,  still  more  formidable 
than  the  resentment  of  their  enemies.  The 
soldiers  reflected,  that  it  was  dangerous  to  de- 
part, yet  more  dangerous  to  remain  ; provisions 
could  be  acquired  only  by  the  point  of  the  sword ; 
every  country  was  hostile  ; although  they  con- 
quered one  enemy,  another  would  be  still  ready 
to  receive  them  ; they  wanted  cavalry  to  pursue 
the  Barbarians,  or  to  elude  their  pursuit;  vic- 
tory itself  would  be  fruitless;  defeat,  certain 
ruin. 

Amidst  these  melancholy  reflections  they  had 
spent  the  greater  part  of  the  night;  when  Xeno- 
phon the  Athenian,  inspired,  as  he  acknow- 
ledges, by  a favourable  dream,  and  animated,  as 
his  conduct  proves,  by  the  native  vigour  of  a 
virtuous  mind,  roused  and  imboldened  by  ad- 
versity, undertook,  amidst  the  general  dejection 
and  dismay,  the  care  of  his  own  and  of  the  pub- 
lic safety.  Having  assembled  the  captains  be- 
longing to  the  division  of  his  beloved  Proxenus, 
he  faithfully  represented  to  them  their  situation, 
which,  dangerous  as  it  was,  ought  not  to  sink 
brave  men  to  despair.  Even  in  the  worst  cir- 
cumstances, fortitude,  and  fortitude  alone,  could 
afford  relief.  They  had  been  deceived,  but  not 
conquered,  by  the  Barbarians;  whose  perfidious 
violation  of  faith,  friendship,  and  hospitality, 
rendered  them  odious  and  contemptible  to  men 
and  gods ; the  gods,  who  were  the  umpires  of 
the  contest,  and  whose  assistance  could  make 
the  cause  of  justice  and  valour  prevail  over 
every  superiority  of  strength  and  numbers.5 

The  manly  piety  of  Xenophon  was  com- 
municated, by  a generous  sympathy,  to  the 
breasts  of  his  hearers ; who,  dispersing  through 
the  various  quarters  of  the  camp,  summoned 
together  the  principal  officers  in  the  army. 
To  them  Xenophon  addressed  a similar  dis- 
course, encouraging  them  by  every  argument 
that  religion,  philosophy,  experience,  and  par- 
ticularly their  own  experience,  and  that  of  the 
Grecian  history,  could  afford,  to  expect  success 
from  their  own  bravery,  and  the  favour  of  hea- 
ven, and  to  disdain  the  offers  of  accommodation 
(if  such  should  be  made)  from  their  impious 
foes,  whose  insidious  friendship  had  always 
proved  more  hurtful  than  their  open  enmity. 


5 Xenoph.  p.  29j. 

2 O 


The  hearty  approbation  of  the  Spartan  Cheiri- 
sophus  added  weight  and  authority  to  the  per- 
suasive eloquence  of  the  Athenian ; who  farther 
exhorted  them  to  substitute  commanders  in  the 
room  of  those  whom  they  had  lost;  to  disentan- 
gle themselves  from  every  superfluous  incum- 
brance that  might  obstruct  the  progress  of  their 
march,  and  to  advance  with  all  expedition  to- 
wards the  sources  of  the  Tigris  and  Euphrates, 
in  the  form  of  a hollow  square,  having  the  bag- 
gage and  those  who  attended  it  in  the  middle, 
and  presenting  the  valour  of  their  battalions  on 
every  side  to  the  enemy.  These  resolutions 
were  unanimously  approved  by  the  council,  after 
which  they  were  referred  to  the  assembled 
troops,  by  whom  they  were  readily  confirmed, 
and  carried  into  immediate  execution.6  Tima- 
sion,  Xanthicles,  Cleanor,  Philysias,  succeeded 
to  tire  late  commanders ; Xenophon  supplied 
the  place  of  Proxenus ; and  so  ably  was  the 
ascendant  of  Spartan  and  'Athenian  virtue 
maintained  by  him  and  Cheirisophus,  that  the 
names  of  their  unequal  colleagues  will  seldom 
occur  in  the  following  narrative  of  their  retreat. 

The  greater  part  of  the  day  had  been  em- 
ployed in  these  necessary  measures  ; and  in  the 
afternoon,  the  troops  having  passed  the  Zaba- 
tus,  pursued  their  march  in  the  disposition  re- 
commended by  Xenophon.  But  they  had  not 
proceeded  far,  before  their  rear  was  harassed 
by  the  Persian  archers  and  cavalfy,  which  af-  , 
forded  them  a very  inauspicious  presage  of  the 
hardships  to  which  they  must  be  continually 
exposed  in  eighteen  days’  journey  along  the 
level  frontiers  of  Media.  It  was  difficult  to  re- 
pel these  light  skirmishers,  and  impossible  to 
attack  them  without  being  exposed  to  consi- 
derable loss  ; because  a detachment  of  heavy- 
armed men,  or  even  of  targeteers,  could  not 
overtake  them  in  a short  space,  nor  could  they 
continue  the  pursuit  without  being  cut  off  from 
the  rest  of  the  army.  Xenophon,  with  more 
valour  than  prudence,  tried  the  unfortunate  ex- 
periment ; but  was  obliged  to  retreat  fighting, 
and  brought  back  his  men  wounded,  disheart- 
ened, and  disgraced.7 

But  this’unfortunate  event  neither  disheart- 
ened nor  disgraced  the  commander.  He  inge- 
nuously acknowledged  his  error,  which,  perni- 
cious as  it  was,  had  taught  the  Greeks  their 
wants.  They  wanted  cavalry  and  light-armed 
troops  ; the  former  of  which  might  be  obtained 
by  equipping  for  war  the  baggage-horses  which 
had  been  taken  from  the  enemy  ; and  the  latter 
might  be  supplied  by  the  Rhodians  (well  skilled 
in  the  sling,)  of  whom  there  were  great  num- 


6 Xenupl).  p.  209. 


7 Ibid.  p.  305,  et  scq. 


290 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


bers  in  the  army.  This  advice  was  approved ; 
a company  of  fifty  horsemen  was  soon  raised, 
the  men  vying  with  each  other  to  obtain  the 
honour  of  this  distinguished  service ; and  two 
hundred  Rhodians  were  drawn  from  the  ranks, 
who  furnished  themselves  with  slings  and  leaden 
balls,  which  they  threw  twice  as  far  as  the 
stones  employed  by  the  Barbarians.  The  horse- 
men wore  buff  Coats  and  corslets ; they  were 
commanded  by  Lycius  the  Athenian.1 

The  utility  of  these  preparations  was  disco- 
vered as  soon  as  the  enemy  renewed  their  as- 
saults, with  a thousand  horse,  and  four  thou- 
sand slingers  and  archers.  The  newly-raised 
troops  advanced  with  boldness  and  celerity, 
being  assured  that  their  unequal  attack  would 
be  sustained  by  the  targeteers  and  heavy-armed 
men.  But  the  Persians,  not  waiting  to  receive 
them,  fled  in  scattered  disorder ; the  Greeks 
pursued,  took  many  prisoners,  made  great 
slaughter,  and  mangled  the  bodies  of  the  slain, 
in  order  to  terrify,  by  such  a dreadful  spectacle 
of  revenge,  their  cowardly  and  perfidious  ene- 
mies.2 

After  this  advantage,  the  army  continued  to 
march  along  the  banks  of  the  Tigris,  and  the 
western  boundaries  of  Media,  meeting  with 
many  rich  and  populous  villages,  from  which 
they  were  supplied  with  provisions ; and  ad- 
miring, as  they  passed  along,  the  immense 
walls,  the  lofty  and  durable  pyramids,  the  spa- 
cious but  deserted  cities,  which  testified  the 
ancient  greatness  of  that  flourishing  kingdom, 
Defore  the  Medes  reluctantly  submitted  to  the 
oppressive  government  of  Persia.  The  Bar- 
barians still  endeavoured  to  annoy  them,  but 
with  very  little  success,  unless  when  they  pass- 
ed a bridge,  or  any  narrow  defile.  On  such 
occasions,  the  square  form,  in  which  they  had 
hitherto  marched,  was  found  doubly  inconve- 
nient.3 In  order  to  traverse  such  a passage,  the 
soldiers  were  obliged  to  close  the  wings,  and  to 
crowd  into  a narrow  space,  which  disordered 
the  ranks,  and  made  them  obstruct  each  other. 
When  they  had  crossed  the  bridge  or  defile, 
they  were  again  obliged  to  run  with  all  haste, 
in  order  to  extend  the  wings,  and  resume  their 
ranks,  which  occasioned  a void  in  the  centre, 
and  much  disheartened  the  men,  thus  exposed 
to  the  sudden  attack  of  the  pursuers. 

To  obviate  both  inconveniences,  the  Greeks 
separated  from  the  army  six  companies,  each 
consisting  of  a hundred  men.  These  were 
subdivided  into  smaller  bodies,  of  fifty  and 
twenty-five,  each  division  of  the  company,  as 
well  as  the  whole,  commanded  by  proper  offi- 
cers. When  it  became  necessary  to  close  the 
wings,  in  order  to  pass  a defile,  these  trooops 
staid  behind,  thus  disburdening  the  army  of  a 
superfluous  mass,  and  thereby  enabling  them 
to  proceed  without  confusion  in  their  ranks. 
After  the  passage  was  effected,  the  army  might 
again  extend  the  wings,  and  assume  the  same 
loose  arrangement  as  before,  without  exposing 
the  centre  to  danger ; because  the  vacuity  left 
there  was  immediately  supplied  by  the  detach- 
ed companies ; the  opening,  if  small,  being  fill- 
ed up  by  the  six  divisions  of  a hundred  men 


1 Xenoph.  p.  307.  2 Ibid.  308. 

3 Ibid.  p.  310. 


[Chap. 

each  ; if  larger,  by  the  twelve  divisions  of  fifty ; 
and  if  very  large,  by  the  twenty-four  divisions 
of  twenty-five  ;4  as  the  same  number  of  men. 
in  proportion  to  the  number  of  columns  into 
which  they  were  divided,  would  occupy  a 
wider  extent  of  ground.5 

With  this  useful  precaution  the  Greeks  per- 
formed a successful  march  to  the  mountains  of 
the  Carduchians,  where  the  enemy’s  cavalry 
could  no  longer  annoy  them.  But  here  they 
found  new  difficulties,  far  more  formidable  than 
those  with  which  they  had  hitherto  been  obliged 
to  contend.  The  Tigris,  on  their  left,  was  so 
deep  and  rapid,  that  the  passage  appeared  abso- 
lutely impracticable.  Before  them  rose  the 
high  and  craggy  mountains,  which  oversha- 
dowed the  river,  inhabited  by  a warlike  race  of 
men,  whose  barbarous  independence  had  al- 
ways defied  the  hostilities6  of  Persia,  as  tha* 
of  their  successors,  the  modern  Curdes,  does  the 
arms  of  the  Turk,  to  whom  they  are  but  nomi- 
nally subject.7  While  the  Greeks  doubted  what 
course  to  pursue,  a certain  Rhodian  undertook 
to  deliver  them  from  their  perplexity,  provided 
they  gave  him  a talent,  to  reward  his  labour. 
“ I shall  want,  besides,”  continued  he,  “ two 
thousand  leather  bags,  which  may  be  obtained 
by  flaying  the  sheep,  goats,  oxen,  and  asses, 
which  the  country  affords  in  such  numbers  as 
we  see  around  us.  The  skins  may  be  blown, 
tied  at  the  ends,  and  fastened  together  by  the 
girths  belonging  to  the  sumpter  horses,  then 
covered  with  fascines,  and  lastly  with  earth.  I 
shall  use  large  stones  instead  of  anchors  ; every 
bag  will  bear  two  men,  whom  the  fascines  and 
earth  will  prevent  from  slipping,  and  whom, 
with  very  little  labour  on  their  part,  the  rapidity 
of  the  current  will  waft  across  the  river.”8 

This  ingenious  contrivance  was  commended, 
but  not  carried  into  execution ; the  Grecians 
having  learned  from  some  prisoners  recently 
taken,  that  the  road  through  the  country  of  the 
Carduchians  would  soon  conduct  them  to  the 
spacious  and  plentiful  province  of  Armenia. 
Thither  they  fearlessly  penetrated,  regardless 
of  the  report,  that  under  a former  reign,  a Per- 
sian army  of  a hundred  and  twenty  thousand 
men  had  been  cut  off  by  those  fierce  barbari- 
ans, whose  manners  were  more  rude  and  in- 
hospitable than  the  mountains  which  they  in- 
habited. At  the  approach  of  the  Greeks,  the 
Carduchians  retired  to  their  fastnesses,  leaving 
the  villages  in  the  plain  at  the  mercy  of  the  in- 
vaders. The  troops  were  restrained  from  in- 
jury ; but  their  inoffensive  behaviour,  and  kind 
invitations  to  peace,  were  regarded  with  con- 
tempt by  the  common  enemies  of  the  Greeks, 
of  the  Persians,  and  of  human  kind.  They 


4 Xenoph.  310. 

5 I have  explained  ibis  matter  minutely,  because  the 
words  of  Xenophon  are  mistaken  by  great  military  writers. 
Major  Mauvillon,  a skilful  engineer  and  excellent  scholar, 
proposes  a transposition  of  the  words  of  Xenophon,  that 
the  greater  gaps  may  be  filled  up  by  the  greater  divisions. 
He  justly  observes,  that  no  translator  or  commentator  has 
taken  notice  of  the  difficulty  that  naturally  presents  itself 
on  reading  the  passage,  which,  however,  I hope  is  suffi- 
ciently perspicuous  in  the  text.  See  l’Essai  sur  l’lnfluence 
de  la’Poudre  a Canon,  &c.  a work  which,  I believe,  no 
military  man  can  read  without  receiving  from  it  instruction 
and  entertainment. 

6 Xenoph.  p.  315.  7 Rauwolfs  Travels. 

8 Xenoph.  p.  314. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


291 


XXVI.] 

seized  every  opportunity  to  obstruct  the  march  i 
of  the  army  ; and  though  unprepared  for  a 
close  engagement,  used  with  extraordinary  ef- 
fect their  bows,  three  cubits  long,  which  they 
bent  by  pressing  the  lower  part  with  their  left 
foot.  The  arrows  were  near  as  long  as  the 
bows  ; and  their  irresistible  points  pierced*  the 
firmest  shields  and  corslets.  The  Greeks  em- 
ployed their  skill  in  tactics,  and  their  valour,  to 
elude,  or  to  repel,  the  assault  of  these  danger- 
ous foes,  from  whom  they  suffered  more  in  se- 
ven days  than  they  had  done  in  as  many  weeks 
from  the  bravest  troops  of  Artaxerxes.9  At 
length  they  arrived  at  the  river  Centrites,  two 
hundred  feet  broad,  which  forms  the  southern 
boundary  of  Armenia,  having  just  reason  to 
rejoice  that  they  had  escaped  the  weapons  of 
the  Carduchians,  whose  posterity,  the  Parthi- 
ans,10  with  the  same  arms  and  address,  became 
formidable  to  Rome,  when  Rome  was  formida- 
ble to  the  world.11 

The  month  of  January  was  employed  in  tra- 
versing the  fruitful  plans  of  Armenia,12  which 
are  beautifully  diversified  by  hills  of  easy  as- 
cent. Teribazus,  the  Persian  governor  of  the 
province,  entered  into  an  agreement  with  the 
generals,  that  if  they  abstained  from  hostilities, 
he  would  not  obstruct  their  march,  but  furnish 
them  plentifully  with  provisions.  But  this 
league  was  perfidiously  violated.  The  Greeks 
had  recourse  to  arms  ; pursued  Teribazus  ; as- 
saulted and  plundered  his  camp.13  Next  day 
they  were  exposed  to  a more  dangerous  con- 
test, in  which  neither  skill  nor  valour  could 
avail.  The  snow  fell  in  such  quantities  during 
the  night,  as  completely  covered  the  men  with 
their  arms.  Their  bodies  were  benumbed  and 
parched  with  the  piercing  coldness  of  the  north 
wind.  Many  slaves  and  sumpter  horses  pe- 
rished, with  about  thirty  soldiers.  The  rest 
could  scarcely  be  persuaded  by  Xenophon  to 
put  themselves  in  motion,  which  was  known  to 
be  the  only  remedy  for  their  distress  ; and  as 
the  severity  of  the  weather  still  continued  dur- 
ing the  remainder  of  their  march  through  Ar- 
menia, several  soldiers  lost  their  sight  by  the 
glare  of  the  snow,  and  their  toes  and  fingers 
by  the  intenseness  of  the  cold.14  The  eyes 
were  best  defended  by  wearing  something  black 
before  them ; the  feet  were  preserved  by  con- 
stant motion  in  the  day,  and  by  stripping  bare 
in  the  night. 

From  Armenia  they  proceeded  to  the  coun- 
try of  the  Taochians,  who,  alarmed  by  the  ap- 
proach of  an  unknown  enemy,  had  abandoned 
the  valleys,  and  taken  refuge  on  the  mountains, 
with  their  wives,  children,  and  cattle.  Hither 
also  they  had  conveyed  all  their  provisions  ; so 
that  the  Greeks  were  obliged  to  attack  these 
fastnesses,  otherwise  the  army  must  have  been 
starved.  The  Barbarians  boldly  defended  them, 
by  letting  fly  innumerable  vollies  of  stones 


«J  Xenoph.  p.  218— 226. 

10  Strabo,  I.  xvi.  p.  515. 

.11  Plot,  in  Crasso  et  Marc.  Anton. 

12  There  the  Greeks  found  7txvt % -rot  otrx 

<rr» v eeyaSae,  icftix,  Txrov,  oxvou;  « A.«iov;  £ uooJsx,-,  xn-T u- 

QiSxf,  enrfut  srs ivmfotTrx  ; “all  kinds  of  necessaries,  and 
even  luxuries,  victims,  corn,  old  frngrunt  wines,  dried 
grapes,  and  all  sorts  of  pulso.” 

13  Xenoph.  p.  328.  14  Xenoph:  p 329.  et  seq. 


down  the  precipices.  But  this  artillery  was  at 
length  exhausted ; the  Greeks  became  masters 
of  the  heights  ; and  a dreadful  scene  followed. 
The  women  first  threw  their  children  down  the 
rocks,  and  then  themselves.  The  men  imitat- 
ed this  frantic  example  of  despair ; so  that 
the  assailants  made  few  prisoners,  but  took 
a considerable  quantity  of  sheep,  oxen,  and 
asses.15 

From  thence  the  army  proceeded  with  un- 
common celerity  through  the  bleak  and  rocky 
country  of  the  Chalybeans;  marching,  in  seven 
days  about  a hundred  and  fifty  miles.  The 
Chalybeans  were  the  fiercest  nation  in  all  those 
parts.  They  wore,  for  their  defence,  linen 
corslets,  greaves,  and  helmets  ; they  carried  a 
short  falchion  at  their  girdles ; and  attacked 
with  pikes  fifteen  cubits  long.  Instead  of  dis- 
covering any  symptoms  of  flight  or  fear,  they 
sang,  danced,  and  rejoiced,  at  the  approach  of 
an  enemy.  They  boldly  defended  their  villa- 
ges, not  declining  even  a close  engagemeut  with 
the  Greeks  ; who  could  supply  themselves  with 
nothing  from  this  inhospitable  and  warlike 
country,  but,  in  their  dangerous  march  through 
it,  subsisted  entirely  on  the  cattle  lately  taken 
from  the  Taochians.16 

The  river  Harpasus,  four  hundred  feet  broad, 
separated  the  territories  of  the  Chalybeans  and 
Scythians.  From  the  latter  the  Greeks  met 
with  little  resistance,  in  a march  of  thirteen 
days,  which  brought  them  to  the  lofty  mount 
Theches,  a place  held  in  particular  devotion  by 
the  inhabitants  of  the  neighbouring  territory. 
The  vanguard  had  no  sooner  ascended  this 
sacred  mountain,  than  the  army  were  alarmed 
by  loud  shouts,  which  continued  to  redouble 
with  increasing  violence.  It  was  imagined  that 
some  new  form  of  danger  had  appeared,  or  that 
some  new  enemy  was  ready  to  assail  them. 
The  rear  advanced  with  all  possible  expedition 
to  the  assistance  of  their  companions;  but  hav- 
ing arrived  within  hearing,  were  seized  with 
the  most  pleasing  astonishment,  when  their  ears 
were  saluted  from  every  quarter  with  the  repe- 
tition, “ The  sea  ! the  sea  !”  the  sight  of  which, 
a sight  so  long  wished  in  vain,  at  first  filled 
them  with  transports  of  tumultuous  joy,  and 
afterwards  recalled  more  distinctly  the  remem- 
brance of  their  parents,  their  friends,  their 
country,  and  every  object  of  their  most  tender 
concern.17  The  soldiers,  with  tears  in  their 
eyes,  embraced  each  other,  and  embraced  their 
commanders ; and  then,  as  by  a sudden  consent 
of  sympathy  (for  it  was  never  known  by  whose 
orders,)  heaped  up  a mount  of  stones,  which 
they  covered  with  barbaric  arms,  as  a trophy  of 
their  memorable^journey  through  so  many  fierce 
and  hostile  nations. 

The  distant  prospect  of  theEuxine  made  them 
forget  that  they  had  not  yet  attained  the  end  of 
their  labours.  A space,  indeed,  of  less  than 
sixty  miles  intervened;  but  it  was  covered  by 
the  trackless  forests  of  the  Macronians,  and  by 
the  abrupt  and  intricate  windings  of  the  Col- 
chian  mountains.  A fortunate  circumstance 
enabled  them  without  difficulty  to  surmount  the 


15  Xenophon,  p.  338.  16  Ibid.  338. 

17  Ibid.  p.  379. 


292 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE 


first  of  those  obstacles.  Among  the  Grecian 
targeteers  was  a man  who  understood  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Barbarians.  He  had  been  carried 
to  Athens  in  his  youth,  where  he  had  served  as 
a slave.  At  the  sight  of  the  Macronians,  he 
recognized  his  long-forgotten  countrymen;  and 
having  addressed  them  in  terms  of  friendship 
and  respect,  engaged  them  to  exchange  presents, 
and  to  enter  into  alliance  with  the  Greeks,1 
whom  they  plentifully  supplied  with  provisions, 
and  having  cut  down  the  trees  that  interrupted 
their  passage,  conducted  them  in  three  days  to 
4ie  western  frontier  of  Colchos. 

This  country,  so  famous  in  the  fables  of  anti- 
quity,2 was  inhabited  by  an  ancient  colony  of 
Egyptians,  who  long  preserved  pure  from  any 
foreign  admixture,  not  only  their  original  lan- 
guage, but  the  singular  manners,  and  the  more 
singular  rites  and  ceremonies,  of  their  mother 
country.3  Though  distinguished  in  other  re- 
spects from  the  neighbouring  nations,  whom 
they  detested,  and  to  whom  they  seemed  detes- 
table, they  agreed  with  them  in  their  jealousy 
of  the  Greeks,  whose  flourishing  colonies  along 
the  southern  shores  of  the  Euxine  threatened 
the  safety  of  their  dominions.  They  assembled 
therefore  from  all  quarters,  occupied  the  heights, 
and  prepared  to  dispute  the  passage  with  obsti- 
nacy. Their  numbers,  their  discipline,  their 
arms,  but,  still  more,  their  situation,  rendered 
them  formidable.  If  the  Greeks  advanced  in 
a phalanx,  or  full  line,  their  ranks  would  be 
broken  by  the  inequalities  of  the  ground,  the 
centre  would  be  disordered,  and  the  superior 
numbers  of  the  enemy  would  outreach  either 
wing.4  These  inconveniences,  might  partly  be 
remedied  by  making  such  parts  of  the  line,  as 
had  an  easy  ascent,  wait  for  the  slow  and  diffi- 
cult progress  of  their  companions  through  more 
abrupt  and  inaccessible  mountains;  and,  by  ex- 
tending the  phalanx  in  length,  and  leaving  very 
few  men  in  file,  their  front  might  be  ren- 
dered equal  to  that  of  the  Colchians.  But  the 
first  of  these  operations  would  have  too  long  ex- 
posed the  army  to  the  darts  and  arrows  of  the 
Barbarians,  and  the  second  would  have  so  much 
enfeebled  the  line,  as  must  have  rendered  it 
liable  to  be  penetrated.  Amidst  this  choice  of 
difficulties,  Xenophon  proposed,  and  the  pro- 
posal was  readily  approved  by  his  colleagues, 
that  the  heavy-armed  men  should  be  divided 
into  companies  of  a hundred  each,  and  that 
each  division  should  be  thrown  into  a separate 
column.  The  wide  intervals  between  the  co- 
lumns might  thus  enable  the  smaller  army  to 
extend  on  the  right  and  left  beyond  the  ene- 
my’s line ; each  company  or  division  might  as- 
cend the  mountain  wherever  they  found  it  most 
convenient ; the  bravest  men  might  be  led  first 
to  the  charge  ; the  depth  of  the  columns5  could 
not  possibly  be  penetrated  ; nor  could  the  ene- 
my fall  into  the  intervals  between  them,  with- 


1 Xenoph.  p.  340.  2 See  p.  14,  et  seq. 

3 Herodot.  1.  xi.  c.  civ.  4 Idem,  p.  341. 

5  The  mz*s  ofiics  is  defined  by  Arian  to  be  a body  of 
men,  with  the  files  longer  than  the  ranks  ; that  is.  with  more 
men  in  depth  than  in  front.  The  without  any 

epithet,  means  the  contrary  But  the  oa5ix,is 

an  army,  as  the  same  author  tells  us,  orxv  tn  xsf^ie 
sropsvijTxi,  that  is,  having  more  men  in  depth  than  in  front, 
and  employing,  for  some  extraordinary  reason,  what  is 
naturally  the  line  of  march  as  an  order  of  battle 


[Chap. 

out  being  cut  off  by  the  divisions  on  either 
side,  which  might  be  arranged  in  such  a manner 
as  to  relieve,  encourage,  and  support  each  other 

This  judicious  disposition  was  attended  with 
the  expected  success.  The  heavy-armed  men 
formed  eighty  companies ; the  targeteers  and 
archers,  divided  into  three  bodies,  each  of  about 
six  hundred  men,  flanked  the  army  on  the  right 
and  left.  Their  third  division,  consisting  chiefly 
of  Arcadians,  occupied  a distinguished  place  in 
the  centre.  Thus  disposed  for  battle,  the  wings 
of  the  Grecian  army,  and  particularly  the  tar- 
geteers and  archers,  who  were  most  capable  of 
expedition,  advanced  with  celerity  to  the  attack. 
The  enemy,  who  saw  them  approach,  and  who 
perceived  that  on  either  hand  they  outreached 
their  line,  filed  to  the  right  and  left  in  order  to 
receive  them.  By  this  movement  they  left  a 
void  in  their  centre,  towards  which  the  Arca- 
dian targeteers,  supported  by  the  nearest  co- 
lumns, advanced  with  rapidity,  and  soon  gained 
the  summit.  They  could  thus  fight  on  equal 
terms  with  the  Barbarians,  who,  thinking  they 
had  lost  all  when  they  lost  the  advantage  of  the 
ground,  no  longer  offered  resistance,  but  fled  on 
every  side  with  disordered  trepidation,  leaving 
the  Greeks  masters  of  the  field  of  battle,  as  well 
as  of  the  numerous  villages  in  that  neighbour- 
hood,6 and  within  two  days’  march  of  the 
Euxine  sea,  without  any  other  enemy  to  oppose 
their  long-disputed  passage  thither. 

The  southern  shore  of  the  Euxine,  which 
actually  presents  one  uniform  scene  of  effemi- 
nate indolence  and  sullen  tyranny,  anciently 
contained  many  barbarous  but  warlike  tribes, 
totally  independent  on  each  other,  and  scarcely 
acknowledging  any  dependence  on  the  king  of 
Persia.  That  part  which  extends  towards  the 
east  and  the  borders  of  Mount  Caucasus,  and 
which  afterwards  formed  the  kingdom  of  the 
great  Mithridates,  was  inhabited  by  the  Col- 
chians, Drillians,  Mysonaecians,  and  Tybare- 
nians;  the  middle  division  was  possessed  by  the 
Paphlagonians,  who  gloried  in  the  irresistible 
prowess  of  their  numerous  cavalry  ; and  the 
western  parts,  extending  two  hundred  miles 
from  Heraclea  to  the  Thracian  Bosphorus,  were 
occupied  by  the  inhospitable  Bithynians ; a 
colony  of  Thrace,  who  excelled  and  delighted 
in  war,  which,  like  their  ancestors  in  Europe, 
they  carried  on  with  a savage  fury.7 

Amidst  the  formidable  hostility  of  those  nu- 
merous nations,  arose,  at  wide  intervals,  several 
Grecian  cities,  which  enlivened  the  barbaric 
gloom,  and  displayed  the  peculiar  glory  of  their 
arts  and  arms.  Sinope,  the  mother  and  the 
queen  of  those  cities,  was  advantageously  situ- 
ated on  a narrow  isthmus  which  joined  its  ter- 
ritory, consisting  in  a small  but  fertile  penin- 
sula,8 to  the  province  of  Paphlagonia.  The  foun- 
dation of  Sinope  remounted  to  the  highest  an- 
tiquity, and  was  ascribed  to  Antolycus,  one  of 
the  Argonauts.9  The  city  was  afterwards  in- 


6 Xenoph.  p.  342. 

7 Pee  Dionvsius  Pericgetes,  and  Arrian's  Periplus. 

8 Tournefort,  v.  iii.  p.  46.  sav3  it  is  about  six  miles  in  cir- 
cumference. 

9 See  the  account  of  the  Argonautic  expedition,  p.  15,  et 
seq.  Strabo,  1.  xii.  p.  546.  who  gives  us  this  information, 
says  further,  that  Lucullus,  when  he  took  the  town,  carried 
away  Hie  statue  of  Antolycus. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


293 


XXVI.] 

creased  by  a powerful  accession  of  Milesians. 
It  possessed  convenient  harbours  on  either  side 
of  the  isthmus.  The  peninsula  was  surrounded 
by  sharp  rocks,  which  rendered  it  inaccessible 
to  an  enemy  ; and  the  sea  abounded  with  the 
tunny  fish,  which  flow  in  shoals  from  the  Palus 
Maeotis,  where  they  are  supposed  to  be  bred,16 
to  the  Euxine  and  Propontis. 

Such  multiplied  advantages  rendered  the  Si- 
nopians  populous  and  powerful.  They  diffused 
their  colonies  to  the  east  and  west.  It  is  not 
improbable  that  they  founded  Heraclea,11  on  the 
frontier  of  Bithynia;  and  it  is  certain  that  they 
built  Cotyora  in  the  territory  of  the  Tybare- 
nians,  Cerasus  in  that  of  the  Mysonaecians,  and 
Trapezus  in  that  of  the  Drillians. 

Trapezus,  or  Trebizond,  was  the  first  friendly 
city  at  whicii  the  Grecians  arrived,  after  spend- 
ing more  than  a twelvemonth  in  almost  con- 
tinual travelling  and  war.  The  numerous  in- 
habitants of  this  flourishing  sea-port,  which  has 
now  decayed  into  the  much-neglected  harbour 
of  Platana,12  received  them  with  open  arms, 
generously  supplied  their  wants,  and  treated 
them  with  all  that  endearing  yet  respectful  hos- 
pitality of  kinsmen,  who  commiserated  their 
sufferings  and  admired  their  virtue.  The  Gre- 
cians, on  their  part,  displayed  a very  just  and 
becoming  sense  of  the  evils  which  they  had 
escaped,  and  of  their  actual  security.  In  the 
fervour  of  religious  gratitude  they  paid  the  so- 
lemn vows  and  sacrifices  which  they  had  pro- 
mised to  Jupiter  the  preserver,  and  the  other 
gods  and  heroes,  whose  bountiful  protection 
had  hitherto  conducted  them  through  so  many 
known,  and  so  many  concealed  dangers.  They 
afterwards  celebrated,  with  much  pomp  and 
festivity,  the  gymnastic  games  and  exercises;  an 
entertainment-equally  agreeable  to  themselves, 
to  the  citizens  of  Trebizond,  and  to  the  divini- 
ties whom  they  both  adored.  When  these  essen- 
tial duties,  for  such  the  Greeks  deemed  them, 
had  been  performed  with  universal  satisfaction, 
the  soldiers,  who  were  unwilling  to  be  burden- 
some to  their  Trebizontian  friends,  found  suffi- 
cient employment  in  providing  for  their  own 
subsistence,  and  that  of  their  numerous  attend- 
ants. For  several  days  they  ravaged  the  neigh- 
bouring villages  of  the  Colchians  and  Drillians ; 
and  while  they  cruelly  harassed  the  enemies, 
they  carefully  respected  the  allies, of  Trebizond. 
Their  repeated  devastations  at  length  desolated 
the  country  immediately  around  them,  so  that 
the  foraging  parties  could  no  longer  set  out 
and  return  on  the  same  day  ; nor  could  they 
penetrate  deep  into  the  territory,  without  being 
endangered  by  the  nocturnal  assaults  of  the 
Barbarians.  These  circumstances  rendered  it 
necessary  for  them  to  think  of  leaving  Trebi- 


10  Tournefort,  Voyage  au  Levant. 

11  Strabo,  I.  xii.  p.  542.  calls  Heraclea  a colony  of  the 
Milesians,  by  whom  we  may  understand  the  Sinopians,  who 
were  themselves  n colony  of  that  people.  Xenophon,  how- 
ever, called  Heraclea  a colony  of  Megareans.  Xenoph. 
An  abas.  p.  353. 

12  Tournefort,  I.  xvii.  This  place,  however,  is  still  large 
but  depopulated  ; containing  more  woods  nnd  gardens  than 
houses,  and  those  only  of  one  story;  yet  the  town  retains 
the  form  of  an  oblong  square,  the  modern  walls  being  built 
on  the  ruins  of  the  ancient,  the  shape  of  which  occasioned 
the  name  of  Trapezus,  from  the  Greek  word  signifying  a 
tablo.  Tournefort,  ibid. 


zond;  on  which  account  an  assembly  was 
convened  to  fix  the  day  of  their  departure,  and 
to  regulate  the  mode  and  plan  of  their  future 
journey.13. 

In  this  important  deliberation  the  soldiers 
very  generally  embraced  the  opinion  of  Antileon 
of  Thuria,  who  told  them  that,  for  his  part,  he 
was  already  tired  with  packing  up  his  baggage, 
marching,  running,  mounting  guard,  and  fight- 
ing, and  now  wished,  after  all  his  labours,  to 
perform  the  remainder  of  the  journey  like 
Ulysses,  and,  stretched  out  at  his  ease,  to  be 
carried  asleep14  into  Greece.  That  this  pleasing 
proposal  might  he  put  in  execution,  Cheiriso- 
phus  sailed  to  the  Hellespont,  hoping  to  obtain 
ships  from  Anaxibius,  who  commanded  the 
Spartan  fleet  in  that  sea.  But  in  case  such  a 
request  could  not  be  conveniently  granted,  the 
soldiers  determined  to  demand  a few  ships  of 
war  from  the  inhabitants  of  Trebizond,  with 
which  they  intended  to  put  to  sea,  and  capture 
whatever  merchantmen  they  could  meet  with 
in  the  Euxine,  in  order  to  employ  them  as 
transports.15 

Several  weeks  elapsed  without  bringing  any 
news  of  Cheirisophus,  or  promising  any  hope  of 
assistance  from  the  Spartan  admiral.  Mean 
while  the  Grecian  pirates,  for  they  deserve  no 
better  name,  infested  the  Euxine  sea.  Dexip- 
pus,  the  Lacedaemonian,  with  a degree  of  per- 
fidy worthy  of  his  commission,  betrayed  his 
companions,  and  sailed  off*  with  the  galley  which 
he  commanded.16  But  Polycrates,  the  Athe- 
nian, behaved  with  an  ardour  and  fidelity  which 
even  robbers  sometimes  display  in  their  trans- 
actions with  each  other;  and  his  successful  dili- 
gence soon  collected  such  a number  of  vessels 
as  served  to  transport  to  Cerasus  the  aged,  the 
infirm,  the  women  and  baggage ; while  the 
strength  of  the  army,  consisting  of  men  below 
forty  years  of  age,  reached  the  same  place  in 
three  days’  march.17 

The  colony  of  Cerasus,  or  Cerazunt,  was  de- 
lightfully situated  near  the  sea,  among  hills  of 
easy  ascent,  covered  in  every  age18  with  whole 
woods  of  cherry-trees,  from  which,  in  all  proba- 
bility, the  place  derived  its  name.19  From 
thence  the  voluptuous  Lucullus,  in  the  six  hun 
dred  and  eightieth  year  of  Rome,  first  brought 
into  Italy  this  delicious  fruit,  which  ancient  na- 
turalists scarcely  believed  capable  of  thriving  in 


13  Xenoph.  343.  et  seq. 

14  Thus  was  Ulysses  transported  by  the  Phoeatians,  who 
placed  him  sleeping  on  the  shore  of  Ithaca : 

Oi  S'*  ev^ovr’  ev  vqi  6o>)  en  woi/rov  xyovrtg 

Kxt 9;<rxv  civ  I6xx><,  Odyss.  xiii.  134. 

The  beautiful  images  which  the  poet,  in  the  same  book, 
gives  of  the  pleasures  of  rest,  after  immoderate  labour, 
played  about  the  fancy  of  Antileon  : 

Kaei  rev  vtiSvftog  mttv o;  ctti  S\eQxgoin  uriffri 

NqygSTOS,  VI&IT TOJ,  dxVXTtO  *y%tTTX  COIXWf.  V.  80. 

And  again,  “The  ship  cut  the  waves  with  a rapidity, 
which  the  flight  of  the  swiftest  hawk  could  not  accompany, 
carrying  a man. 

Oj  7rgiv  ftsv  gtxXx  woXX.s»  wse6’  u\ycx  ov  xxtx  6vft ov, 

A vSg'nv  t t srroXjyaoof,  xKeyt  ivx  re  xvf*  xrx  Trtigitv 

A>)  toti  y’  06T gcf*xf  su Stj  KtKxrgavog  oo-t’  twiwovflee,” 

15  Xenoph.  p.  345.  16  Ibid. 

17  Ibid.  p.  349.  18  Tournefort. 

19  Kigxrsf,  cerasus,  cerise,  cherry.  For  a similar  rea- 
son Tadinor  in  the  dcsnrt  was  called  Pulmyra,  a palmis , 
the  palm  tree.  Tournefort  mentions  it  as  the  opinion  of  St. 
Jerom,  that  the  place  gave  name  to  the  fruit.  The  diffe- 
rence is  not  material. 


294 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


an  Italian  sky ; but  which  actually  adorns  the 
bleakest  and  most  northern  regions  of  our  own 
island.  At  Cerasus  the  Greeks  remained  ten 
days,  disposing  of  their  booty,  supplying  their 
wants,  and  reviewing  the  army,  which  still 
amounted  to  eight  thousand  six  hundred  men, 
the  rest  having  perished  by  fatigue,  war,  cold, 
and  sickness.1 

After  this  necessary  delay,  the  less  active  por- 
tion again  embarked,  while  the  vigorous  youth 
pursued  their  journey  through  the  romantic 
country  of  the  Mosynaecians ; a barbarous,  yet 
powerful  tribe,  who  received  their  singular  de- 
nomination from  the  wooden  houses,  or  rather 
towers,  which  they  inhabited;2  and  which, 
either  by  chance  or  design,  were  scattered  in 
such  a manner  among  the  hills  and  valleys,  that 
at  the  distance  of  eight  miles,  the  villages  could 
hear  and  alarm  each  other.3  The  army  next 
proceeded  through  the  dark  and  narrow  district 
of  the  Chalybeans,  who  subsisted  by  the  work- 
ing of  iron ; and  whose  toilsome  labours,  rugged 
mountains,  and  more  rugged  manners,4  must 
have  formed  a striking  contrast  with  the  smiling 
plains,  the  pastoral  life,5  the  innocent  and  hos- 
pitable character  of  their  Tyberenian  neigh- 
bours; who  treated  the  Greeks  with  every 
mark  of  friendship  and  respect,  and  conducted 
them,  with  attentive  civility,  to  the  city  of  Co- 
tyora. 

It  might  be  expected,  that  the  army,  having 
reached  the  country  of  their  friends  and  kins- 
men, should  have  been  disposed  peaceably  to 
enjoy  the  fruits  of  their  past  labours  and  dan- 
gers. If  they  were  unwilling  to  expose  them- 
selves to  fresh  hostilities  from  the  warlike  inha- 
bitants of  Paphlagonia  and  Bithynia,  they  might 
have  waited  the  arrival  of  ships  from  Sinope 
and  Heraclea,  or  from  the  Spartan  admiral  in 
the  Hellespont,  who  would  either  retain  them 
in  his  own  service,  or  transport  them  to  the 
Chersonesus,  to  Byzantium,  and  to  other  cities 
and  territories,  which,  being  lately  conquered 
by  Sparta,  required  the  vigilant  protection  of 
brave  and  numerous  garrisons.  But  it  is  more 
easy  for  men  to  repel  the  assaults  of  external 
violence,  than  to  elude  the  effects  of  their  own 
ungovernable  passions.  The  Greeks  were  in- 
volved in  real  danger,  in  proportion  as  they  at- 
tained apparent  security.  During  the  long 
eourse  of  their  laborious  journey,  the  terror  of 
unknown  Barbarians  hanging  over  them,  pre- 
served their  discipline  and  their  union.  But 
the  air  of  a Grecian  colony  at  once  dissolved 
both.  They,  who  in  the  remote  regions  of  the 
East  had  acted  with  one  soul,  and  regarded 
each  other  as  brethren,  again  felt  the  unhappy 
influence  of  their  provincial  distinctions.  The 
army  was  divided  by  separate  interests,  as  well 
as  by  partial  attachments.  Those  who  had  ac- 
quired wealth,  desired  to  return  home  to  enjoy 
’t.  Those  who  were  destitute  of  fortune,  longed 
to  plunder  friends  and  foes,  Greeks  and  Barba- 
rians.  The  commanders  despised  and  deceived 
the  troops;  the  troops  clamoured  against,  and 
insulted  the  commanders.  Both  were  really  in 


1 Xenoph.  p.  349.  2 Moc-ov  and  ombv. 

3 Xenoph.  p.  351.  4 Ibid,  p.  354. 

5 Dionysius  Periegetes  qualifies  them  by  the  epithet 

• exugg abounding  in  sheep. 


[Chap. 

the  wrong ; and  both  suspected  and  accused 
each  other  of  imaginary  crimes,  of  which/ none 
were  guilty. 

Xenophon,  who,  with  wonderful  address,  has 
justified  himself  from  every  reproach6  that  can 
reflect  either  on  his  understanding  or  his  heart, 
does  not  deny  an  imputation  to  which  he  was 
exposed  by  discovering  (somewhat,  perhaps, 
unseasonably)  the  just  and  extensive  views  of 
a philosopher.  When  he  surveyed  the  southern 
shores  of  the  Euxine,  cc  vered  in  ancient  limes, 
as  well  as  they  are  at  present,  with  tall  and 
majestic  forest  trees,  admirably  adapted  to 
ship-building;  when  he  considered  the  conve- 
nience of  the  harbours,  and  the  productions  of 
the  neighbouring  territory,  consisting  in  flax, 
iron,  and  every  commodity  most  necessary  in 
raising  a naval  power,  he  was  ambitious  of  es- 
tablishing a new  settlement,  which  the  numbers, 
the  valour,  and  the  activity  of  his  followers, 
must  soon  render  superior  to  the  other  Grecian 
colonies  on  the  Euxine,  or  perhaps  in  any  part 
of  Asia.  But  this  noble  design,  which  might 
have  proved  so  useful  and  honourable  to  the 
army,  was  blasted  by  the  mean  jealousy  of  his 
enemies.  Xenophon  was  reproached  with  form- 
ing projects  equally  romantic  and  dangerous • 
and  accused  of  an  intention  to  keep  the  soldiers 
from  home,  that  they  might  continue  dependent 
on  himself,  and  that  he  might  increase  his 
own  fame  and  fortune  at  the  risk  of  the  publie 
safety.7 

The  mutinous  and  distracted  spirit  of  the 
troops  rendered  all  their  future  measures  weak 
and  wavering.  The  terror  which  they  inspired, 
and  their  wants,  which  it  was  necessary  to  sup- 
ply, made  them  very  unwelcome  guests  at  Co- 
tyora,  Sinope,  and  Heraclea,  at  which  places 
they  continued  several  months,  under  pretence 
of  waiting  for  transports,  but  mean  while  plun- 
dering the  neighbouring  country,  laying  the 
cities  under  contribution,  and  threatening  them 
with  burdens  that  exceeded  their  faculties. 
The  inhabitants  of  Heraclea,  while  they  affected 
to  consider  those  unreasonable  demands,  remov- 
ed their  effects  from  the  villages,  shut  the  gates 
of  their  city,  and  placed  armed  men  on  the 
walls.  Cheirisophus  had  by  this  time  returned 
with  vessels  from  Anaxibius,  the  Spartan  admi- 
ral, but  not  sufficiently  numerous  to  transport 
so  great  an  army.  The  soldiers  thus  disap- 
pointed of  their  hopes,  and  discontented  with 
their  commanders,  and  with  each  other,  rashly 
undertook,  in  separate  bodies,  the  dangerous 
journey  through  Bithynia,  a country  extending 
two  hundred  miles  from  Heraclea  to  Byzan- 
tium, and  totally  inhabited,  or  rather  wasted,  by 
the  Thynians,  a Thracian  tribe,  the  most  cruel 
and  inhospitable  of  the  human  race.  In  this 
expedition  they  lost  above  a thousand  men ; 
and  the  destruction  must  have  been  much 
greater,  had  not  the  generous  activity  of  Xeno- 
phon seasonably  led  his  own  division  to  the  as- 
sistance of  those  who  had  deserted  his  standard. 
Cheirisophus  was  soon  afterwards  killed  by  a 
medicine  which  he  had  taken  in  a fever.  The  sole 
command  devolved  on  Xenophon ; not  by  ap- 
pointment, but  by  the  voluntary  submission  of 


6 Xenoph. p.  367 


7 Xenoph.  p.  259,  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


295 


XXVLJ 

the  troops  to  his  superior  mind.  He  at  length 
taught  them  to  defeat  the  irregular  fury  of  the 
Thynians ; and  after  taking  many  slaves  and 
much  useful  booty,  conducted  them  in  safety  to 
Chrysopolis,8  which  is  now  known  by  the  name 
of  Scutari,  and  considered  as  the  Asiatic  suburb 
of  Constantinople. 

The  neighbourhood  of  a Grecian  colony 
seemed  infectious  to  the  temper  of  the  troops. 
At  Byzantium  their  mutinous  spirits  were  again 
thrown  into  fermentation.  Cleander,  the  go- 
vernor of  that  city,  who  had  come  to  meet  them, 
narrowly  escaped  death  during  the  fury  of  a 
military  sedition.  Their  behaviour  rendered 
them  the  objects  of  terror  to  all  the  inhabitants 
of  those  parts.  The  Lacedaemonians  dreaded 
the  assistance  of  such  dangerous  allies ; and  the 
satrap  Pharnabazus,  alarmed  for  the  safety  of 
his  province,  practised  with  Anaxibius,  who 
commanded  in  the  Hellespont,  to  allure  them, 
by  fair  promises,  into  Europe.  Gained  by  the 
bribes  of  the  Persian,  not  only  Anaxibius,  but 
his  successor  Aristarchus,  made  proposals  of 
advantage  to  the  army,  which  he  had  not  any 
intention  to  fulfil.  The  troops,  enraged  at  this 
disappointment,  and  still  more  at  the  treachery 
of  the  Spartan  commanders,  would  have  at- 
tacked and  plundered  Byzantium,  had  they  not 
been  restrained  by  the  wisdom  and  authority 
of  Xenophon,  who,  struggling  like  a skilful 
pilot  against  the  violence  of  a tempest,  prevent- 
ed the  execution  of  a measure  which  must  have 
exposed  them  to  immediate  danger,  and  covered 
them  with  eternal  infamy.9 

With  tears  and  prayers,  he  conjured  them 
“not  to  tarnish,  by  the  destruction  of  a Grecian 
city,  the  glory  of  a campaign  signalized  by  so 
many  illustrious  victories  over  the  Barbarians. 
What  hopes  of  safety  could  they  entertain,  if, 
after  unsuccessfully  attempting  to  dethrone  the 
king  of  Persia,  they  should  provoke  the  resent- 
ment of  Sparta?  Destitute  as  they  were  of 
friends,  of  money,  of  subsistence;  and  reduced 
by  their  misconduct  to  a handful  of  men,  could 
they  expect  to  insult  with  impunity  the  two 
greatest  powers  in  the  world  ? The  experience 
jf  late  years  ought  to  correct  their  folly.  They 
had  seen  that  even  Athens,  in  the  zenith  of  her 
greatness,  possessed  of  four  hundred  galleys,  an 
annual  revenue  of  a thousand  talents,  and  ten 
times  that  sum  in  her  treasury;  Athens,  who 
commanded  all  the  islands,  and  occupied  many 
cities  both  in  Asia  and  Europe,  among  which 
was  Byzantium  itself,  the  present  object  of  their 
frantic  ambition,  had  yielded  to  the  arms  of 
Sparta,  whose  authority  was  Tictually  acknow- 
ledged in  every  part  of  Greece.  What  mad- 
ness, then,  for  men  in  their  friendless  condition, 
a mixed  assemblage  of  different  nations,  to  at- 
tack the  dominions  of  a people  whose  valour 
was  irresistible,  and  from  whose  vengeance  it 
was  impossible  for  them  to  fly,  without  flying 
from  their  country,  and  taking  refuge  among 
those  hostile  Barbarians,  from  whom,  for  near 
two  years  past,  they  had  met  with  nothing  but 
cruelty,  injustice,  persecution,  and  treachery?” 

The  judicious  representations  of  Xenophon 
saved  Byzantium ; but  it  is  probable  that  nei- 


ther the  weight  of  argument,  nor  the  powe, 
of  eloquence,  would  have  long  restrained  the- 
discontented  and  needy  troops  from  attempting 
other  enterprises  of  a similar  nature,  if  an  op 
portunity  had  not  fortunately  presented  itself 
of  employing  their  dangerous  activity  in  the 
service  of  Seuthes,  a bold  and  successful  ad 
venturer  of  Lower  Thrace.  Msssades,  the  fa 
ther  of  Seuthes,  reigned  over  the  Melandep- 
tans,  the  Thynians,  and  the  Thranipsans,  whc 
inhabited  the  European  shores  of  the  Propontis 
and  Euxine  sea.  The  licentious  turbulence  of 
his  subjects,  compelled  him  to  fly  from  his  do 
minions.  He  took  refuge  with  Medocus,  king 
of  the  Odrysians,  the  most  powerful  tribe  in 
Upper  Thrace,  with  whose  family  his  own  had 
long  been  connected  by  the  sacred  ties  of  hos- 
pitality. Medocus  kindly  received,  and  gene- 
rously entertained,  the  father;  and,  after  his 
decease,  continued  the  same  protection  and 
bounty  to  his  son,  Seuthes.  But  the  indepen- 
dent spirit  of  the  young  prince  disdained,  as  he 
expresses  it,  to  live  like  a dog  at  another  man’s 
table.  He  desired  horses  and  soldiers  from  Me- 
docus, that  he  might  acquire  subsistence  for 
himself.  His  request  was  granted ; his  incur 
sions  were  successful ; the  terror  of  his  name 
filled  all  the  maritime  parts  of  Thrace;  and 
there  was  reason  to  believe  that  if  he  could  join 
the  Grecian  forces  to  his  own,  he  might  easily 
regain  possession  of  his  hereditary  dominions.1!! 

For  this  purpose  he  sent  to  Xenophon  Medo- 
sades,  a Thracian,  who,  understanding  the 
Greek  language,  usually  served  him  as  ambas- 
sador. The  terms  of  the  treaty  were  soon 
agreed  on.  Seuthes  promised  each  soldier  a 
cyzicene  (about  eighteen  shillings  sterling,)  the 
captains  two  cyzicenes,  and  the  generals  four, 
of  monthly  pay.  The  money,  it  was  observed, 
would  be  clear  gain,  as  they  might  subsist  by 
plundering  the  country ; yet  such  of  the  booty 
as  was  not  of  a perishable  nature,  Seuthes  re- 
served for  himself,  that  by  selling  it  in  the  mari- 
time towns,  he  might  provide  for  the  pay  of 
his  new  auxiliaries.11 

Having  communicated  their  designs  to  the 
army,  the  Grecian  commanders  followed  Me- 
dosades  to  the  camp  of  Seuthes,  which  was  dis- 
tant about  six  miles  from  the  coast  of  Perin- 
thus,  a city  of  considerable  note  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Byzantium.  They'  arrived  after 
sun-set,  but  found  the  Barbarians  awake  and 
watchful.  Seuthes  himself  was  posted  in  a 
strong  tower ; horses  ready  bridled  stood  at  the 
gate  ; large  fires  blazed  at  a distance,  while  the 
camp  itself  was  concealed  in  darkness  ; precau- 
tions, however  singular,  yet  necessary  against 
the  Thynians,  who  were  deemed,  of  all  men, 
the  most  dangerous  enemies  in  the  night.  The 
Greeks  were  permitted  to  enter.  Seuthes  re- 
ceived them  with  rustic  hospitality  ; before  en- 
tering on  business,  challenged  them  to  drink  in 
largo  horns  full  of  wine ; then  confirmed  the 
promises  of  his  ambassador ; and  still  farther 
allured  Xenophon  by  the  hopes  of  receiving, 
besides  the  stipulated  pay,  lands  and  cattle,  and 
an  advantageous  establishment  on  the  sea- 
shore. 


8 Xenoph.  p.  277,  et  seq.  9 Xenoph.  p.  399,  et  Beq. 


10  Xenoph.  p.  393,  et  seq. 


11  Idem,  ibid 


296 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Next  day  the  Grecian  army  joined  the  camp 
of  their  new  master.  The  commanders  were 
again  entertained  with  a copious  feast,  in  which 
Seuthes  displayed  all  his  magnificence.  After 
supper,  the  buffoons  and  dancers  were  intro- 
duced, the  cup  went  briskly  round,  and  the 
whole  assembly  were  dissolved  in  merriment. 
But  Seuthes  knew  how  far  to  indulge,  and 
when  to  restrain,  the  joys  of  festivity.  With- 
out allowing  his  revels  to  disturb  the  stillness 
of  the  night,  he  rose  with  a martial  shout,  imi- 
tating a man  who  avoided  a javelin  ; and  then 
addressing  the  Grecian  captains  without  any 
sign  of  intoxication,  desired  them  to  have  their 
men  ready  to  march  in  a few  hours,  that  the 
enemy,  who  were  as  yet  unacquainted  with  the 
powerful  reinforcement  which  he  had  received, 
might  be  taken  unprepared,  and  conquered  by 
surprise.1 

The  camp  was  in  motion  at  midnight ; it  was 
the  middle  of  winter,  and  the  ground  was  in 
many  parts  covered  with  a deep  snow.  But 
the  Thracians,  clothed  in  skins  of  foxes,  were 
well  prepared  for  such  nocturnal  expeditions. 
The  Greeks  suffered  much2  by  the  cold ; but 
the  rapidity  of  their  march,  animated  by  the 
certain  prospect  of  success,  made  them  forget 
their  sufferings.  Wherever  they  arrived,  the 
villages  were  attacked  and  plundered,  the  houses 
were  burned,  many  captives  and  cattle  wTere 
taken,  and  the  ravages  of  that  bloody  night 
sufficiently  represent  the  uniform  scene  of  cru- 
elty, by  which,  in  the  course  of  a few  weeks, 
Seuthes  compelled  into  submission  the  inha- 
bitants of  that  fertile  and  populous  slip  of  land 
that  lies  between  the  Euxine  and  Propontis. 
But  the  possession  of  this  territory,  which 
formed  the  most  valuable  portion  of  his  here- 
ditary dominions,  could  not  satisfy  his  ambi- 
tion. He  turned  his  arms  northwards,  and 
overran  the  country  about  Salmydessus,  a mari- 
time city  situate  at  the  mouth  of  a river  of  the 
same  name,  which  flows  from  the  southern 
branch  of  mount  Hsemus  into  a spacious  bay 


1 Xenoph.  p.  406.  et  seq. 

2 Hv  Se  %i Jiv  TTOXXij,  x**  tyvWS  ourtoj  uilTTS  to  vSaig  o 
cQegavro  £3Ti  Seitrv ot>,  jwiiyvuTO,  x*»  o o»vo$  tv  roi;  xy- 
yeitu;’  x*»  TU)V  EXX.I]V(0V  7T0KKU1V  %xi  give;  xrrexotiovTO  x*i 

wtx.  There  was  much  snow,  and  the  cold  so  intense,  that 
the  water  froze  as  they  were  carrying  it  to  supper,  and  the 

wine  in  the  vessels.  Many  of  the  Greeks  also  lost  their 

ears  and  noses.  Xenoph.  p.  408. 


[Chap 

of  the  Euxine.  There  the  allied  army  repeated 
the  same  destructive  havoc  which  they  had  al- 
ready made  in  the  south  ; and  avenged,  by  their 
cruel  incursions,  the  cause  of  violated  hospi- 
tality ; for  the  Barbarians  of  those  parts  were 
so  much  accustomed  to  plunder  the  vessels 
which  were  often  ship-wrecked  on  their  shoaly 
coast,  that  they  had  distinguished  it  by  pillars, 
in  the  nature  of  land-marks,  to  prevent  intestine 
quarrels,  by  ascertaining  the  property  of  the 
spoil.3 

In  the  space  of  two  months  after  his  junction 
with  the  Greeks,  Seuthes  extended  his  posses 
sions  several  days’  march  from  the  sea ; his  nu 
merous,  but  unskilful  enemies,  fighting  singly 
were  successively  subdued ; each  vanquished 
tribe  increased  the  strength  of  his  army  ; the 
Odrysians,  allured  by  the  hopes  of  plunder, 
flocked  to  his  standard,  and  the  growing  pros- 
perity of  his  fortune,  no  longer  requiring  the 
support,  disposed  him  to  neglect  the  services, 
of  his  Grecian  auxiliaries.4  The  ungrateful 
levity  of  the  Barbarian  was  encouraged  by  the 
perfidious  counsels  of  his  favourite  Heraclides 
of  Maronea,  one  of  those  fugitive  Greeks,  who 
having  merited  punishment  at  home  for  their 
wickedness,  obtained  distinction  abroad  by  their 
talents ; men  sullied  with  every  vice,  prepared 
alike  to  die  or  to  deceive,  and  who  having  pro- 
voked the  resentment  of  their  own  country- 
men by  their  intrigues  and  their  audacity,  often 
acquired  the  esteem  of  foreigners  by  their  va- 
lour and  eloquence,  their  skill  in  war,  and  dex- 
terity in  negotiation.  Heraclides  strongly  ex- 
horted his  master  to  defraud  the  Greeks  of 
their  pay,  and  to  deliver  himself  from  their 
troublesome  importunities,  by  dismissing  them 
from  his  service.  But  the  fears,  rather  than 
the  delicacy  of  Seuthes,  prevented  him  from 
complying  with  this  advice  ; he  lost  his  honour 
without  saving  his  money;  and  the  Grecian 
generals  had  an  early  opportunity  to  reproach 
his  perfidy  and  ingratitude,  being  soon  called 
to  engage  in  a more  honourable  war,5  kindled 
by  the  resentment  of  Artaxerxes  against  the 
presumption  of  the  Spartans,  who  had  so  stre- 
nuously supported  the  unfortunate  rebellion  of 
Cyrus. 


3 Xenoph.  p.  408. 
5 Idem.  p.  427 


4 Idem.  p.  414,  et  scq. 


XXVIL] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


297 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Tissaphernes  makes  War  on  the  Greeks , by  order  of  Artaxerxes — Attacks  the  JEolian  Cities — 
Expedition  of  Thimbron — He  is  succeeded  by  Dercyllidas — His  treaty  with  Tissaphernes — 
Agesilaus  King  of  Sparta — Cinadon's  Conspiracy — Agesilaus  Commander  of  the  Grecian 
Forces  in  Asia — His  Success — Tissaphernes  succeeded  by  Tithraustes — Great  Views  of  Age- 
silaus— War  kindled  in  Greece — League  against  Sparta — Campaign  of  Lysander  in  Bceotia — 
His  Death. 


TT  does  honour  rather  to  the  modesty  than  to 
A the  judgment  of  Xenophon,  that  he  has  ex- 
cluded, from  his  general  history  of  Grecian  af- 
fairs, the  account  of  an  expedition,  in  which  he 
himself  acted  so  distinguished  a part,  and 
which  immediately  occasioned  very  important 
transactions  both  in  Asia  and  in  Europe.  After 
the  downfall  of  Athenian  greatness,  the  Spar- 
tans were  naturally  exposed  to  the  jealousy  and 
Olvm  resentment  of  Persia,  by  their  do- 
xcv  2 minion  in  Greece,  by  their  con- 
A C *399  <lues*;s  on  coast  °f  Asia,  by  the 
pre-eminence  of  their  naval  power, 
and  especially  by  their  open  participation  in 
the  rebellious  designs  of  Cyrus.  The  former 
circumstances  rendered  their  republic  the  rival 
of  the  king  of  Persia ; but  their  co-operation 
with  an  ambitious  rebel  rendered  them  the  per- 
sonal enemies  of  Artaxerxes.  His  resolution 
to  chastise  their  audacity  was  communicated 
to  Tissaphernes.  who,  after  harassing  the  re- 
treat of  the  Greeks  to  the  foot  of  the  Cardu- 
chian  mountains,  beyond  which  he  had  not 
courage  to  follow  them,  returned  with  a pow- 
erful army  towards  Lower  Asia,  to  resume  the 
government  of  Caria,  his  hereditary  province, 
as  well  as  to  take  possession  of  the  rich  spoils 
of  Cyrus,  bestowed  on  him  by  the  gratitude  of 
his  master,  in  return  for  his  recent  and  signal 
services  against  that  dangerous  pretender  to 
the  throne. 

Honoured  with  this  magnificent  present,  Tis- 
saphernes was  farther  entrusted  with  executing- 
the  vengeance  of  the  great  king  against  the 
Spartans.  Without  any  formal  declaration  of 
war,  which  the  late  hostilities  in  the  East  seem- 
ed to  render  unnecessary,  he  attacked  the  iEo- 
lian  cities ; the  satrap  Pharnabazus  readily  en- 
tered into  his  views,  and  concurred  with  all  his 
measures.  The  Lacedsemonian  garrison,  sup- 
ported by  the  townsmen,  defended  themselves 
with  their  usual  courage,  earnestly  soliciting, 
however,  a reinforcement  from  home,  which 
might  enable  them  to  resist  and  to  surmount 
6uch  an  unexpected  danger.6 

On  this  important  occasion,  the  Spartan  se- 
nate and  assembly  were  not  wanting  to  the  as- 
sistance of  their  garrisons,  or  to  the  hopes  of 
their  iEolian  allies.  They  immediately  levied 
a body  of  five  thousand  Peloponnesian  troops, 
and  demanded  a considerable  supply  from  the 
Athenians.  The  latter  sent  them  three  hun- 
dred horsemen,  who  having  served  under  the 
thirty  tyrants,  were  cheerfully  sacrificed  to  this 
dangerous  duty  by  the  partisans  of  the  new 
democracy.  The  command  of  the  joint  forces 
was  entrusted  to  the  Spartan  Thimbron,  who 


6 Xenoph.  Mellon  ’ iii.  p.  480.  Diodor.  Sicul-  1.  xiv.  p. 

416. 

2 P 


had  orders,7  as  soon  as  he  arrived  in  iEolis,  to 
take  into  pay  the  Greeks  who  had  engaged  in 
the  expedition  of  Cyrus,  and  who  were  actually 
employed  in  the  dishonourable  service  of  an 
ungrateful  Barbarian.  The  mean  and  perfidi- 
ous behaviour  of  Seuthes,  who,  in  his  new  cha- 
racter of  prince,  still  retained  his  original  man- 
ners of  a Thracian  robber,  rendered  the  proposal 
of  joining  Thimbron  extremely  agreeable  to 
Xenophon,  who  conducted  to  the  Lacedsemo- 
nian  standard  six  thousand  men,  the  venerable 
remains  of  an  army  exhausted  and  ennobled 
by  unexampled  toils  and  dangers.8 

Having  received  this  powerful  reinforcement, 
Thimbron  opened  the  campaign  against  the 
lieutenant  of  Artaxerxes,  at  the  distance  of  two 
years  after  Cyrus  had  marched 
xc  3^*  frona  Ephesus  to  dispute  the  crown 
A VC  *398  °^*  ^ers*a'  The  imPressions  of 

the  Grecian  arms  were  attended 
with  considerable  success.  Thimbron  took,  or 
regained,  the  towns  of  Pergamus,  Teuthrania, 
Halisarnia,  Myrina,  Cyme,  and  Grynium.  But 
the  walls  of  Larissa,  a strong  city  in  the  Troade, 
defied  his  assault ; the  vigilant  garrison  baffled 
all  his  contrivances  for  depriving  them  of  fresh 
water ; and,  assisted  by  the  inhabitants  of  the 
place,  made  a vigorous  sally,  repelled  the  be- 
siegers, and  burned  or  demolished  their  works. 

Nothing  but  continual  action,  and  an  unin- 
terrupted career  of  victory,  could  restrain  the 
licentious  passions  of  the  troops,  composed  of 
a motley  assemblage  from  so  many  different, 
and  often  hostile  communities.  Their  seditious 
spirit  rendered  them  formidable  to  each  other, 
and  to  the  Greeks  of  Asia.  Their  rapacity 
spared  not  the  territories  of  the  Lacedemonian 
allies,  who  loudly  complained  to  the  senate,  as- 
cribing the  violence  of  the  troops  to  the  weak 
ness  of  the  general.  In  consequence  of  this 
representation,  Thimbron  was  recalled  and  dis- 
graced,9 and  the  command,  for  which  he  seemed 
so  ill  qualified,  was  bestowed  on  Dercyllidas,  a 
man  fertile  in  resources,  who  could  often  vary 
his  conduct,  without  changing  his  principles ; 
who  knew  when  to  relax,  and  when  to  enforce 
the  discipline  of  the  camp ; and  who,  to  the 
talents  of  an  able  general,  added  the  reputation 
of  being  the  best  engineer  of  his  times.  By  a 
judicious  direction  of  the  machines  of  war 
which  he  invented,  or  improved,  Dercyllidas 
overcame  the  obstinacy  of  Larissa ; and  in  the 
space  of  eight  days,  reduced  eight  other  cities 
in  the  province  of  Pharnabazus.  The  rapidity 
of  his  conquests  recommended  him  to  the  Spar- 
tan senate,  and  his  moderate  use  of  victory  en- 

7 Xenoph.  Mellon,  p.  550.  Dindor.  p.  416. 

8 Xenoph.  Annbas.  1.  vii.  p.  4-7 

9 Xenoph.  p.  481. 


298 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


deared  him  to  the  Asiatic  colonies.  He  lessened 
their  taxes,  encouraged  their  industry,  heard 
their  complaints  with  candour,  and  decided 
their  differences  with  the  most  impartial  jus- 
tice. Disdaining  the  cruel  example  of  his  pre- 
decessors, he  imposed  not  any  arbitrary  exac- 
tions on  the  peaceful  citizens  and  husbandmen; 
and  lest  the  maintenance  of  his  troops  should 
prove  burdensome  to  the  allies  and  subjects  of 
Sparta,  he  fixed  his  winter  quarters  in  Bithynia, 
where  the  valour  of  Xenophon  and  his  follow- 
ers had  lately  spread  the  terror  of  the  Grecian 
name. 

r ,,  Early  in  the  spring,  commis- 

Olymp.  xcv.  J .5-  6 V,  , . 

A £ sioners  were  sent  from  Sparta  to 

1 * inspect  the  affairs  of  Asia,  and  to 
prorogue,  for  another  year,  the  authority  of 
Dercyllidas,  provided  their  observations  and  in- 
quiries confirmed  the  very  favourable  accounts 
that  had  been  given  of  his  administration.  On 
their  arrival  at  Lampsacus,  where  the  army 
was  then  assembled,  they  visited  the  camp,  and 
assured  the  soldiers,  that  the  magistrates  of  the 
republic  as  much  approved  their  conduct  in  the 
last,  as  they  had  condemned  it  in  the  preceding, 
year.  A captain,  expressing  the  sense  of  the 
multitude,  replied,  that  the  different  behaviour 
of  the  troops,  now  and  formerly,  was  yet  less 
different  than  the  characters  of  Thimbron  and 
Dercyllidas.  This  testimony  of  military  appro- 
bation was  not  more  flattering  to  the  general, 
than  satisfactory  to  the  commissioners ; who 
afterwards,  at  his  request,  visited  the  neigh- 
bouring towns  of  iEolis  and  Ionia,  and  found 
them  in  a condition  extremely  happy  and 
flourishing.1 

Before  taking  leave  of  Dercyllidas,  they  ac- 
quainted him,  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  Thra- 
cian Chersonesus  had  lately  sent  to  Sparta  an 
embassy,  requesting  assistance  against  the  fierce 
Barbarians  who  inhabited  the  adjoining  terri- 
tory ; and  that,  should  circumstances  permit 
him  to  afford  protection  to  those  industrious  and 
distressed  Greeks,  he  would  perform  a signal 
service  to  the  state.  The  inactivity  of  Tissa- 
phernes,  who,  notwithstanding  the  powerful 
army  which  he  had  conducted  from  Upper  Asia, 
still  expected  further  reinforcements  from  the 
East,  encouraged  the  Grecian  general  to  under- 
take this  useful  and  meritorious  enterprise.  The 
Chersonesus  was  one  of  the  most  fertile2  and 
best  cultivated  spots  in  the  ancient  world.  In 
an  extent  of  fifty  miles  in  length,  and  fifteen  in 
breadth,  it  contained  eleven  rich  and  flourishing 
cities,  and  several  commodious  harbours.  The 
fields,  producing  the  most  valuable  grains,  were 
interspersed  and  adorned  with  delightful  planta- 
tions and  orchards,  as  well  as  with  lawns  and 
meadows,  stored  with  all  sorts  of  useful  cattle. 
Had  this  beautiful  country  enjoyed  an  insular 
form,  its  happiness  would  have  been  complete ; 
but  a neck  of  land,  thirty-seven  furlongs  in 
breadth,  joined  it  to  the  territories  of  the  fiercest 
tribes  in  Thrace.  The  troops  of  Dercyllidas 
could  easily  have  repelled  their  inroads.  They 
might  have  punished  their  cruelty  by  destroying 
their  miserable  villages  in  the  open  country ; 
but  the  Barbarians  would  have  found  a secure 


[Chap. 

refuge  in  their  woods  and  mountains,  and 
whenever  the  army  was  withdrawn,  would  have 
again  poured  down  on  the  helpless  Chersonesus 
with  their  native  fury,  heightened  by  revenge. 
Dercyllidas  afforded  a more  useful  assistance  to 
those  unhappy  Greeks  ; and  employed  in  their 
defence,  not  the  courage,  but  the  labour,  of  his 
soldiers.  With  incessant  toil,  begun  in  the 
spring,  and  continued  almost  to  the  autumn, 
they  formed  a strong  wall  across  the  isthmus; 
the  space  was  marked  out,  and  the  labour  dis- 
tinctly apportioned  to  the  separate  communities 
from  which  the  army  had  been  levied  ; and  the 
spur  of  emulation  was  sharpened  by  the  incite- 
ment of  gain,  the  general  in  person  superintend- 
ing the  work,  and  bestowing  rewards  (lavishly 
furnished  by  the  wealthy  Chersonites)  on  the 
most  diligent  and  deserving.3 

Dercyllidas  had  scarcely  returned  from  this 
employment,  justly  ennobled  by  its  utility,  when 
the  combined  forces  of  Pharnabazus  and  Tissa- 
phernes  appeared  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Ephe- 
sus. This  general  collected  his  whole  strength 
in  order  to  give  them  battle  ; the  European  sol- 
diers displayed  a noble  ardour  for  action ; but 
the  inhabitants  of  the  Asiatic  coast,  who  had 
flocked  to  his  standard,  were  intimidated  by  the 
sight  of  an  enemy  whose  numbers  far  exceeded 
their  own.  This  panic  might  have  proved  fatal, 
had  not  the  troops  of  Tissaphemes  felt  the  hor- 
ror which  they  inspired.  They  recollected  the 
bravery  of  the  ten  thousand  who  had  accom- 
panied Cyrus ; they  perceived  that  the  forces 
with  whom  they  now  had  to  contend  exceeded 
that  number;  but  they  did  not  reflect  that  the 
army  of  Dercyllidas  was  swelled  by  the  degen- 
erate Greeks  of  AColis  and  Ionia,  whose  minds 
had  been  enfeebled  and  degraded  by  a longseries 
of  oppression.  The  cowardice  of  the  Persians 
engaged  Tissaphemes,  much  against  the  incli 
nation  of  Pharnabazus,  to  propose  a conference; 
the  cowardice  of  the  Ionians  engaged  Dercylli- 
das to  accept  the  proposal.  Hostilities  were 
thus  suspended  ; mutual  hostages  were  given  ; 
overtures  of  peace  were  made;  and  messengers 
were  despatched  for  instructions  to  the  Spartan 
council,  and  to  the  court  of  Persia. 

The  design  of  Tissaphemes,  however,  was 
only  to  gain  time  by  amusing  the  enemy.  The 
most  solemn  oaths  and  engagements  had  long 
lost  their  power  over  his  perfidious  mind.  He 
treacherously  watched  an  opportunity  to  renew 
the  war,  waiting  with  impatience  for  the  pro- 
mised reinforcements  from  the  East,  and  espe- 
cially for  the  equipment  of  a fleet , which  Arta- 
xerxes  was  preparing  with  silence  and  celerity, 
in  the  ports  of  Phoenicia.  The  secret  prepara- 
tions were  communicated  to  the  Spartan  magis- 
trates by  the  patriotism  of  Herodas,  a Syracusan, 
who,  animated  by  the  love  of  Greece,  betrayed 
his  Phoenician  master.  The  Spartans  were 
alarmed  with  the  danger,  indignant  at  the 
treachery  of  Tissaphemes,  and  perhaps  dis- 
pleased with  the  too  easy  credulity  of  their  ge- 
neral. But  the  death  of  king  Agis  had  given 
them,  in  the  person  of  their  first  magistrate,  a 
commander  who  equalled  Dercyllidas  in  merit, 
and  who  has  far  surpassed  him  in  renown. 


r 


1 Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  iii.  p.  487. 

2 otxthv  x*«  up »<rr»|v.  Xenoph.  p.  488. 


3 Xenoph.  p.  488 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


299 


XXVII.] 

The  destructive  expedition  against  the  Eleans 
was  the  last  exploit  of  the  long  and  warlike  reign 
of  Agis.  On  his  death-bed  he  acknowledged  for 
his  son  Leoty chides,  whose  legitimacy,  the  levity 
or  the  guilt  of  his  mother  Timsea  had  exposed 
to  just  suspicion.  But  this  late  avowal  of  a 
successor,  whom  he  had  so  long  disowned,  did 
not  satisfy  the  partisans  of  Agesilaus,  who  was 
the  brother  of  Agis  on  the  side  of  his  father 
Archidamus,  but  younger  by  many  years,  being 
born  of  a different  mother,  and  failing  Leoty- 
chide,  the  nearest  heir  to  the  throne.  Under  a 
a diminutive  and  ignoble  form,  Agesilaus  con- 
cealed a vigorous  and  fervid  mind,  a manly  ele- 
vation of  character,  a generous  ambition  of  soul. 
These  respectable  qualities,  adorned  by  the 
milder  virtues  of  modesty,  candour,  condescen- 
sion, and  unlimited  complaisance  for  his  friends, 
early  attracted  the  notice,  and  merited  the  esteem 
of  the  first  names  of  Sparta ; and  of  none  more 
than  Lysander,  who,  as  his  personal  hopes  of 
grandeur  were  blasted  by  the  universal  jealousy 
and  resentment  that  had  been  justly  excited  in 
Sparta  against  Jiis  ostentatious  abuse  of  power, 
confined  all  his  projects  of  ambition  to  the  ag- 
grandisement of  his  favourite.  That  eloquence 
and  address,4  which  would  have  been  ineffectual 
if  employed  for  himself,  succeeded  in  behalf  of 
another  ; and  by  the  influence  and  intrigues  of 
Lysander,  still  more  than  by  the  strong  claims 
of  justice  and  of  merit,  Agesilaus  was  declared 
successor  to  the  vacant  throne  ; and,  at  the  dis- 
tance of  about  two  years,  commander  in  chief 
of  the  Greek  forces  in  Asia ; an  office  less  splen- 
did in  name  than  that  of  king  of  Sparta,  but 
carrying  with  it  more  solid  weight  and  au- 
thority. 

In  the  interval  of  these  successive  honours,  he 
approved  his  attentive  vigilance  in  the  service  of 
the  republic,  of  which  the  safety,  and  even  the 
existence,  was  endangered  by  a daring  and 
bloody  conspiracy.  A youth  named  Cinadon, 
distinguished  above  his  companions  by  extraor- 
dinary strength  and  agility,  was  not  less  conspi- 
cuous for  undaunted  courage  and  ambition. 
Descended  of  an  obscure  family,  Cinadon  felt 
and  regretted  the  mortifying  partiality  of  the 
government  under  which  he  lived.  His  pride 
was  deeply  wounded  with  the  reflection,  that 
whatever  abilities  his  youth  might  promise,  and 
his  manhood  mature,  the  unfortunate  circum- 
stances of  his  birth  must  for  ever  exclude  him 
from  the  principal  dignities  of  the  state,  which 
circulated  among  a few  Spartan  families,  with- 
out the  possibility  of  extending  beyond  that  very 
limited  sphere.  The  warmth  of  his  character, 
and  the  impetuosity  of  his  passions,  prompted 
him  to  seek  justice  and  revenge ; nor  was  his 


4 The  partisans  of  Leotychides,  in  pleading  his  cause  be- 
fore the  assembly,  alleged  an  oracle  that  exhorted  the 
Spartans  to  beware  of  a lame  reign.  This  pointed  at  Age- 
silaus,  who  limped  in  walking.  But  Lysander,  by  one  of 
those  ready  and  unexpected  turns,  which  often  decide  the 
resolutions  of  numerous  assemblies,  directed  the  battery  of 
the  oracle  acainst  Leotychides,  asserting,  that  it  was  the 
lameness  of  the  title  only  which  Apollo  must  have  had  in 
view,  since  it  was  a matter  indifferent  to  tho  gods  whether 
the  Spartan  kings  walked  gracefully;  but  a matter  of  high 
importance  whether  they  descended  from  Hercules,  the  son 
of  Jupiter,  or  Alcibiades,  an  Athenian  profligate  and  exile. 
Com.  Plut.  in  Agesil.et  Lysand.  et  Xonoph.  Agesil.  Panegyr. 
et  Hellen.  1.  iii.  p.  493. 


blind  and  headlong  ferocity  alarmed  by  the 
means,  however  atrocious,  that  must  lead  to  this 
favourite  end.  He  communicated  the  horrid  de- 
sign to  men  of  his  own,  and  of  an  inferior  con- 
dition, exaggerating  their  cruel  treatment  by  a 
stern  aristocracy,  which  he  contrasted  with  the 
mild  equality  of  the  neighbouring  communities; 
and  perhaps  asserting,  that  if  they  must  submit 
to  a master,  it  would  be  better  to  have  one  than 
many ; that  even  the  subjects  of  a monarchy  en- 
joyed greater  equality  and  liberty  than  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Spartan  republic,5  since  the  former 
all  equally  participated  in  those  preferments 
and  honours,  to  which  not  only  the  slaves,  the 
Helots,  and  freedmen,  but  the  whole  body  of 
the  Lacedaemonian  people,  were  forbiddten  to 
aspire.  After  this  general  representation,  he 
neglected  not,  what  was  more  effectual  and  im- 
portant, to  arraign  the  arrogance  and  cruelty  of 
particular  senators,  and  to  inflame  the  resent- 
ment of  individuals  against  their  private  and 
domestic  foes  ; nor  did  he  forget  to  encourage 
them  all  with  the  certain  prospect  of  success, 
by  contrasting  their  own  strength  and  numbers 
with  the  weakness  of  an  enemy,  who  might  be 
taken  unarmed,  and  cut  off  by  suprise.6 

The  time  for  action  approached,  and  the 
author  of  the  conspiracy  commanded  his  asso- 
ciates to  stay  at  home,  that  they  might  be  ready 
at  a call.  Agesilaus,  mean  while,  performed 
the  accustomed  vows  and  sacrifices  for  the  safety 
of  the  republic  ; the  appearance  of  the  entrails 
announced  some  dreadful  and  concealed  dan- 
ger ; a second  victim  was  slain,  and  the  signs 
were  still  more  unfavourable  ; but  after  exam- 
ining the  third  sacrifice,  the  priest  exclaimed, 
“We  seem,  O Agesilaus  ! to  be  in  the  midst  of 
our  enemies.”  Soon  afterwards,  a person, 
whose  name  has  not  been  thought  worthy  of 
record,  denounced  Cinadon  to  the  magistrates, 
as  guilty  of  a treasonable  design,  of  which  he 
had  endeavoured  to  render  himself  an  accom- 
plice. When  the  informer  was  desired  to  ex- 
plain his  declaration  more  fully,  he  told  them, 
that  Cinadon  having  conducted  him  to  the  great 
square  of  the  city,  which,  being  destined  for  the 
public  assembly  and  the  market,  was  the  usual 
place  of  rendezvous,  desired  him  to  count  the 
number  of  Spartans  whom  he  saw  in  that  spa- 
cious resort.  That  he  counted  the  king,  the 
ephori,  the  senators,  and  about  forty  others, 
and  then  asked  Cinadon,  for  what  purpose  he 
had  required  him  to  take  that  seemingly  useless 
trouble  ? Because,  replied  the  conspirator,  I 
reckon  the  Spartans  to  be  enemies,  and  all  the 
rest,  whose  great  numbers  you  behold  in  the 
market-place,  to  be  friends.  Nor  does  this  pro- 
portion apply  to  Sparta  only  ; in  the  farms  and 
villages  adjacent  to  the  city,  we  shall  in  each 
house  and  family  have  one  enemy,  the  master, 
but  all  the  servants  will  be  our  friends.  Cina- 
don then  acquainted  him  with  the  object  and 
cause  of  the  conspiracy,  which  had  been  formed 
by  men  of  probity  and  fortitude,  and  which  was 
soon  to  be  communicated  to  the  slaves,  pea- 


5 This  language  I have  often  heard  from  the  subjects  of 
a modern  republic,  whose  citizens  are  not  more  remarkable 
for  their  firmness  in  maintaining  power,  than  for  their  mo- 
deration in  exercising  it. 

6 Xonoph  Hellen.  1.  iii.  p.  493  et  seq. 


300 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


sants,  and  the  whole  body  of  Lacedsemoman 
people,  whose  animosity  against  the  Spartans 
was  too  violent  to  be  concealed.  That  the 
greatest  part  of  the  conspirators,  being  trained 
for  war,  had  arms  in  their  hands  ; that  the 
shops  of  the  armourers,  the  tools  of  those  arti- 
ficers who  wrought  in  metal,  wood,  and  stone, 
and  even  the  instruments  of  agriculture,  might 
furnish  such  weapons  to  the  rest,  as  would  fully 
answer  the  purpose  against  unarmed  men. 

This  alarming  intelligence  roused  the  activi- 
ty, without  shaking  the  firmness,  of  the  Spartan 
magistrates.  It  would  have  been  imprudent  to 
seize  Cinadon  in  the  capital,  as  they  were  unac- 
quainted with  the  extent  of  his  resources,  and 
the  number  of  his  associates.  On  pretence  of 
the  public  service,  they  contrived  to  send  him 
to  Aulon  (for  in  similar  expeditions  they  had 
often  employed  his  ready  arm  and  enterprising 
valour,)  that  he  might  seize,  in  that  licentious 
city,  and  bring  within  the  reach  of  justice,  seve- 
ral daring  violators  of  the  Spartan  laws,  among 
whom  was  a very  beautiful  woman,  who  cor- 
rupted the  manners  of  young  and  old.1  The 
senate  prepared  wagons  for  conveying  the  pri- 
soners, and  furnished  every  thing  necessary  for 
the  journey.  A body  of  chosen  horsemen  was 
appointed  to  accompany  Cinadon,  who  set  out 
without  suspecting  that  this  long  train  of  pre- 
paration was  destined  against  himself  alone. 
But  no  sooner  had  he  reached  a proper  distance 
from  the  city,  than  he  was  seized  as  a traitor, 
and  compelled,  by  the  terror  of  immediate  death, 
to  denounce  his  accomplices.  Their  names 
were  sent  to  the  senate,  who  instantly  secured 
their  persons.  Cinadon,  Tisamenes,  a priest, 
and  the  other  leaders  of  the  conspiracy,  were 
scourged  through  the  city,  gored  with  instru- 
nnents  of  torture,  and  finally  relieved  by  death. 
Olvmn  The  ras^  enterPrise  °f  Cinadon 

xcvi  1 stlU  t^ie  Spartans  with  alarm, 
A C 396  w^en  intelligence  was  conveyed  of 
the  formidable  preparations  of  Ar- 
taxerxes,  against  whom  the  persuasive  influence 
of  Lysander  encouraged  them  to  employ  the 
great  and  solid,  but  as  yet  unknown  abilities, 
of  their  young  and  warlike  prince.  Since  the 
reign  of  Agamemnon,  Agesilaus  was  the  first  I 
Grecian  king  who  led  the  united  forces  of  his 
country  to  make  war  in  Asia;  and  his  expedi-  j 
tion,  though  not  less  important  than  the  ex-  | 
ploits  of  the  sons  of  Atreus  and  Achilles,  is  j 
much  inferior  in  renown ; because  the  panegy- 
ric of  Xenophon,  warm  and  splendid  as  it  is, 
even  beyond  the  usual  colour  of  his  composi- 
tions, must  yet,  like  all  the  works  of  man,  be 
for  ever  eclipsed  by  the  lustre  of  the  Iliad.  But 
the  conquests  of  Agesilaus,  however  different  I 
in  fame,  yet  surpassed  in  misfortune,  the  war  j 
of  Troy.  Both  were  pernicious  to  the  interests  ! 
of  Greece;  but  of  the  two,  the  victories  of  Age- 
silaus proved  the  most  fatal,  not  indeed  in  their 
immediate,  but  in  their  remote  consequences. 

In  the  spring  of  the  year  three  hundred  and 
ninety-six  before  Christ,  he  left  Sparta,  with 
three  thousand  Lacedaemonian  freedmen,  and  a 


1 Ayxyttv  S'  £X£\5u9v  ti)v  yvvxtxx  ij  x*AA«(rT>j  fisv  tKs- 
ytro  *vto5«  smsxi,  A.u^9(iv£<r5x<  S'  Euixsi  tov;  XClXVOVXi- 
vov;  AxxsSxi/ucvimv  xx*  sr(£0*euT«£9u{  xxi  vtiuTi^ov{,  Xe- 
ooph.  p 494. 


[Chap. 

body  of  foreign,  troops  amounting  to  six  thou- 
sand, chiefly  collected  from  the  confederate 
cities  of  Peloponnesus.  Since  the  irregular  and 
unjustifiable  conduct  of  Agis,  in  his  unfortu- 
I nate  expedition  against  Argos,  the  Spartan 
kings  were  usually  attended  in  the  field  by  a 
council  of  ten  senators,  whose  concurrence  was 
held  necessary  in  all  public  measures.  Agesi- 
laus demanded  a council,  not  of  ten,  but  of 
thirty  Spartans : a refined  stroke  of  policy,  which 
strongly  indicates  that  artful  dexterity  with 
which,  daring  a long  administration,  he  uni- 
formly promoted  the  views  of  his  interest  and 
ambition.  By  augmenting  the  number  of  the 
council,  he  diminished  its  importance.  Each 
member,  as  he  possessed  less  weight  and  influ- 
ence, felt  himself  less  concerned  in  the  honour 
of  the  body ; and  the  whole  were  more  easily 
swayed  and  governed  by  the  king.  Lysander 
alone,  whose  name  in  Asia  was  illustrious  or 
terrible,  rivalled  for  awhile  the  power  of  Agesi- 
laus. But  the  colleagues  of  Lysander  were  the 
first  to  dispute  his  pretensions,  and  to  control 
S his  authority.  Agesilaus  availed  himself  of 
their  envy,  and  listened  too  easily  to  the  dictates 
of  selfishness,  in  humbling  the  arrogance  of  a 
rival  who  had  been  the  chief  author  of  his  own 
greatness.  By  thwarting  the  measures  of  Ly- 
sander, by  denying  his  requests,  by  employing 
him  in  offices  unbecoming  his  dignity,2  lie  ren- 
dered him  contemptible  in  the  eyes  of  those  by 
whom  he  had  been  so  long  feared.  This  unge- 
nerous treatment  of  a benefactor,  as  well  as  the 
aspiring  pride  of  the  benefactor  himself,  which 
could  excite  such  black  ingratitude  in  an  other- 
wise virtuous  breast,  doubly  prove  the  insta- 
bility of  friendship  between  ambitious  minds. 
After  a disgraceful  rupture,  which  ended  in  an 
affected  reconciliation,  Lysander  was  sent  by 
Agesilaus  and  his  council  to  command  the  La- 
cedaemonian squadron  in  the  Hellespont,  an 
inactive  and  subordinate  service,  in  which  he 
could  not  expect  an  opportunity  to  perform  any 
thing  worthy  of  his  ancient  fame.  He  return- 
ed, therefore,  in  a few  months  to  Sparta,  co- 
vered with  disgrace,  enraged  by  disappoint- 
ment, and  vowing  implacable  revenge  against 
the  cruel  ingratitude  of  his  friend,  which  he  felt 
more  deeply  than  the  injustice  of  all  his  ene- 
mies together. 

Agesilaus  fixed  his  head-quarters  at  Ephesus, 
a place  recommended  by  its  centrical  situation, 
as  the  most  convenient  rendezvous  for  the  re- 
cruits which  flocked  to  his  standard  from  every 
part  of  the  coast ; at  the  same  time  that  such  a 
station  enabled  him  to  conceal  from  the  enemy 
which  of  their  provinces  was  the  intended  ob- 
ject of  his  invasion.  Thither  Tissaphernes  sent 
an  embassy,  demanding  the  reason  of  such 
mighty  preparations.  Agesilaus  replied,  “ That 
the  Greeks  in  Asia  might  enjoy  the  same  liberty 
wTith  their  brethren  in  Europe.”  The  messen- 
gers of  Tissaphernes  had  orders  to  declare, 
that  the  king  was  inclined  to  acknowledge  the 
ancient  freedom  and  independence  of  the  Gre- 
cian colonies  ; that  the  report  of  his  hostile 
intentions  against  either  of  them  or  the  mother 


2 Lysander  was  known  in  the  East  as  a conqueror; 
Agesilaus  made  him  a commissary.  Vid.  Plut.  in  Agesil. 
et  Lvsand  et  Xett'-ph.  He'len.  1 3.  b.  497. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


301 


XXVII.J 

country  was  totally  void  of  Foundation;  and 
that,  in  consequence  of  the  recent  transactions 
between  Tissaphernes  and  Dercyllidas,  ambas- 
sadors might  shortly  be  expected  from  Susa, 
empowered  to  ratify  a firm  and  lasting  peace 
between  Artaxerxes  and  the  Greeks.  Until 
this  desirable  work  should  be  completed,  Tissa- 
phernes earnestly  desired  a continuation  of  the 
truce,  which,  on  his  side,  he  was  ready  to  seal 
by  whatever  formalities  Agesilaus  thought 
proper  to  require.  The  Spartan  king  frankly 
avowed  his  suspicions  of  treachery ; yet  being 
unwilling  to  embroil  his  country  in  an  unne- 
cessary war,  he  despatched  Dercyllidas,  with 
two  members  of  the  Spartan  council,  to  renew 
his  late  engagements  with  Tissaphernes.  The 
perfidious  satrap  swore  and  deceived  for  the 
last  time.  No  sooner  had  he  received  the  long 
expected  auxiliaries  from  the  east,  than  he 
commanded  Agesilaus  to  leave  Ephesus,  and  to 
evacuate  the  coast  of  Asia;  if  he  delayed  to 
comply,  the  weight  of  the  Persian  arms  would 
enforce  obedience.  The  prudent,  or  pious  Spar- 
tan, while  his  friends  were  alarmed  with  this 
unexpected  declaration,  assumed  an  unusual 
gaiety  of  countenance,  observing,  that  he  re- 
joiced to  commence  the  war  under  such  fa- 
vourable auspices,  since  the  treachery  of  Tis- 
saphernes must  render  the  gods  his  enemies. 

Mean  while  he  prepared  to  encounter  the  in- 
siduous  arts  of  the  satrap,  with  equal,  but  more 
innocent  address.  It  was  industriously  given 
out,  that  he  intended  to  march  into  the  province 
of  Caria,  the  favourite  residence  of  Tissapher- 
nes, which  was  adorned  by  his  voluptuous 
parks  and  palaces,  and  strengthened  by  a for- 
tress, the  repository  of  his  treasures.  The  in- 
tervening cities  were  ordered  to  mend  the  roads, 
to  fugiish  a market,  and  to  prepare  every  thing 
most  nqcessary  to  facilitate  the  march  of  the 
Grecian  army.  Tissaphernes,  not  doubting 
that  Caria  was  the  intended  scene  of  war,  espe- 
cially as  the  mountainous  nature  of  that  pro- 
vince rendered  it  improper  for  horse,  in  which 
the  Greeks  were  very  poorly  provided,  en- 
camped withdais  own  numerous  cavalry  in  the 
plains  of  th^Bleander,  in  order  to  intercept  the 
passage  of  tip  enemy.  But  Agesilaus  having 
posted  a sufficient  garrison  in  Ephesus,  left  that 
city,  and  turning  to  the  north,  advanced  by  ra- 
pid marches  into  Phrygia,  the  rich  plunder  of 
which  rewarded  the  active  diligence  of  his  sol- 
diers. The  selfish  satrap  was  unwilling  to  re- 
lieve the  province  of  Pharnabazus,  by  weaken- 
ing the  defence  of  his  own;  and  accordingly 
remained  inactive  on  the  fruitful  banks  of  the 
Meander,  whose  winding  stream  skirts  the  nor- 
thern frontier  of  Caria,  still  suspecting  an  inva- 
sion of  the  Greeks  from  Ephesus  and  the  neigh- 
bouring sea-ports.  During  the  greatest  part 
of  the  summer  Agesilaus  ravaged  Phrygia;  the 
Barbarians  were  shamefully  defeated  in  several 
rencounters;  at  length  they  ceased  to  resist  his 
arms ; nor  attempted  even  to  harass  his  retreat, 
when,  having  gratified  the  just  resentment  of 
his  country,  he  returned,  loaded  with  spoil,  to 
winter  in  Ephesus.3 

In  the  Phrygian  expedition,  Agesilaus  shared, 


and  surpassed,  the  toils  of  the  meanest  soldier, 
from  whom  he  refused  to  be  distinguished  by 
his  dress,  his  food,  or  his  accommodations,  by 
day  or  night.  The  inactive  season  of  the  year 
was  most  diligently  and  usefully  employed. 
Ephesus  and  the  neighbouring  towns  glowed 
with  the  ardour  of  military  preparation.  The 
Phrygian  wealth  .was  employed  to  urge  the 
hand  of  industry.  Shields,  spears,  swords,  and 
helmets,  filled  every  shop,  and  crowded  every 
magazine.  The  inhabitants  of  the  country 
were  allured  by  great  rewards  to  form  their  best 
horses  to  the  discipline  of  the  field ; and  the 
wealthy  citizens  were  exempted  from  the  ser- 
vice of  the  ensuing  campaign,  upon  condition 
only-  that  they  furnished  a horseman,  properly 
equipped,  to  perform  their  vicarious  duty.  The 
veteran  soldiers,  as  well  as  the  new  levies,  were 
daily  exercised  within  the  walls  of  Ephesus,  in 
those  martial  amusements  which  represented  a 
faithful  image,  and  which  formed  the  best 
school,  of  war.  Agesilaus  often  condescended 
to  dispute  the  prize  of  valour  or  dexterity ; his 
popular  manners  endeared  him  to  the  troops; 
the  superiority  of  his  talents  commanded  their 
willing  obedience ; they  vied  with  each  other 
in  loyalty  to  their  prince ; they  vied  in  gratitude 
to  the  gods  with  their  prince  himself,  who,  as 
often  as  he  obtained  the  crown  of  victory,  dedi- 
cated the  honourable  reward  in  the  admired 
temple  o£ Ephesian  Diana.  “What  then  (adds 
a soldier,  a philosopher,  and  a man  of  piety) 
might  not  be  expected  from  troops,  who  de- 
lighted in  the  exercise  of  war,  respected  their 
general,  and  revered  their  gods?”4 
q,  r The  expectation  of  Xenophon, 

who  beheld  the  interesting  scenes  at 
A C'  ^jqc;  Ephesus,  which  he  has  inimitably 

* ' ’ described,  was  fully  gratified  by  the 

success  of  the  ensuing  campaign.  Agreeably  to 
the  annual  revolution  of  offices  in  the  Lacede- 
monian republic,  a commission  of  thirty  Spar- 
tans were  sent  early  in  the  spring  to  supply  the 
place  of  Lysander  and  his  colleagues.  Among 
the  members  of  this  new  council  Agesilaus  dis- 
tributed the  various  departments  of  military 
command.  The  superior  abilities  of  Herripi- 
das  were  entrusted  with  the  veteran  army  who 
had  served  under  Cyrus.  Xenocles  was  ap- 
pointed to  conduct  the  cavalry.  Mygdo  com- 
manded the  Asiatic  levies;  Scythes,  the  Lace- 
daemonian freedmen  ; for  himself,  as  his  pecu- 
liar care,  the  general  reserved  the  faithful  and 
warlike  body  of  Peloponnesian  allies,  chosen 
from  the  flower  and  vigour  of  many  flourishing 
republics.  With  a view  to  encourage  his  sol- 
diers before  taking  the  field,  he  ordered  the 
Phrygian  prisoners  to  be  brought  forth,  strip- 
ped, and  exposed  to  sale.  The  Greeks  viewed 
with  contempt  the  delicate  whiteness  of  their 
skins,  their  flaccid  muscles,  their  awkward  mo- 
tions, their  shapeless  forms,  their  unwieldy  cor- 
pulence, and  the  effeminate  softness  of  their 
whole  persons.  Such  an  enemy  they  consi- 
dered as  nothing  superior  to  an  army  of  wo- 
men.5 

Agesilaus  had  declared  that  ho  would  be  no 
longer  satisfied  with  ravaging  the  extremities, 


3 Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  iii.  p.  498,  et  seq. 


4 Xenoph.  Panegyr.  Agesil. 


5 Xenoph.  p.  500. 


302 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


but  was  determined  to  attack  the  centre  of  the 
Persian  power.  Tissaphernes,  fearful  of  being 
deceived  by  a second  feint,  again  conducted  his 
squadrons  to  the  banks  of  the  Meander,  and  re- 
inforced with  the  flower  of  his  infantry  the  gar- 
risons of  Caria,  which  (as  the  contrary  had 
been  industriously  reported)  he  concluded  to  be 
the  main  object  of  approaching  hostilities.  But 
the  Spartan  was  too  able  a general  to  repeat  the 
same  game.  On  this  occasion  therefore  he 
carried  into  execution  the  design  which  had 
been  made  public,  marched  toward  the  royal 
city  of  Sardis,  and  ravaged  the  adjoining  ter- 
ritory without  opposition.  He  had  acquired 
much  valuable  booty,  and  shaken  the  fidelity 
of  the  Lydians,  before  any  enemy  appeared  to 
resist  his  progress.  That  resistance,  which  was 
made  too  late,  proved  ineffectual.  After  several 
successful  skirmishes,  he  defeated  the  Persians 
in  a general  engagement  on  the  banks  of  the 
Pactolus,  surrounded  and  took  their  camp,  in 
which,  beside  other  riches,  he  found  seventy 
talents  of  silver.  He  likewise  expected  to  have 
taken  the  unrelenting  enemy  of  the  Greeks, 
the  perfidious  Tissaphernes ; but  that  crafty 
traitor,  suspecting  the  event  of  the  battle,  had 
thrown  himself,  with  a considerable  body  of 
troops,  within  the  strong  walls  of  Sardis,  where 
his  cowardice  continued  to  reside,  displaying 
the  inglorious  pride  of  pomp  and  luxury,  wffiile 
the  provinces  of  Artaxerxes  fell  a prey  to  the 
hostile  invader.  The  time  of  his  punishment, 
how’ever,  was  now  arrived.  His  wrhole  life  had 
been  disgraceful  to  himself ; but  its  last  scene 
had  disgraced  the  arms  of  his  master,  who  can- 
celled, by  one  stroke  of  royal  ingratitude,  the 
merit  of  innumerable  perfidies  and  cruelties 
committed  for  his  service.  Tithraustes  w7as 
sent  from  court  to  take  off  the  head  of  the  ob- 
noxious satrap ; who,  being  allured  to  a confer- 
ence, was  caught  by  his  own  arts,1  and  met  with 
a just  fate;  although  the  author  of  his  death 
was,  perhaps,  the  only  man  in  Persia  or  in 
Greece  with  whom  Tissaphernes  had  any  claim 
of  merit. 

Tithraustes,  who  had  come  from  Babylon 
escorted  by  a powerful  body  of  cavalry,  pos- 
sessed the  mandate  of  the  great  king  for  assum- 
ing the  government  of  Lower  Asia,  and  the 
conduct  of  the  w7ar.  Having  removed  the 
only  rival  who  had  interest  or  ability  to  dis- 
pute this  extensive  and  honourable  commis- 
sion, his  next  care  was  to  send  an  embassy 
to  Agesilaus,  which,  instead  of  indicating  the 
character  of  a great  general  (for  such  Tith- 
raustes was  esteemed  in  the  East,)  betray- 
ed the  mean  and  temporising  genius  of 
his  worthless  predecessor.  The  ambassadors 
were  instructed  to  declare,  “ That  Tissapher- 
nes, the  author  of  those  troubles  which  em- 
broiled Greece  and  Persia,  had  suffered  a just 
death ; and  that  the  king,  who  had  been  too 
long  deceived  by  his  artifices,  was  now  ready 
to  acknowledge  the  independence  of  the  Gre- 
cian colonies,  on  condition  that  Agesilaus  with- 
drew his  troops  from  Asia.”  The  Spartan  ho- 
nestly replied,  “That  the  alternative  of  war 


1  Polyasnus,  1.  vii.  This  fact  is  mentioned  with  few  cir- 
cumstances in  Diodorus,  and  with  none  in  Xenophon,  p. 


or  peace  depended,  not  on  himself,  but  on  the 
resolution  of  the  assembly  and  senate ; nor 
could  he  remove  his  forces  from  the  East  with- 
out the  express  command  of  his  republic.”  The 
artful  satrap  perceiving  that  it  was  impossible 
for  him  to  interrupt,  determined  at  least  to  di- 
vert, the  course  of  hostilities.  None  knew 
better  than  Tithraustes  the  use  of  money  as  an 
instrument  of  negotiation.  He  condescended 
to  purchase  from  Agtiilaus,  by  a very  large 
sum,  the  tranquillity  of  Lydia;  and  as  it 
seemed  a matter  of  indifference  to  the  Spartan 
king  whichever  part  of  the  Persian  domi- 
nions felt  the  weight  of  his  invasion,  he  evacu- 
ated that  province,  and  again  entered  Phrygia. 

While  he  pursued  his  march 
xcvi  3 northwards,  he  was  overtaken  in 
A C 394  *on*°  ^ a welcome  messenger  from 
home,  who  delivered  him  a letter, 
testifying  the  grateful  admiration  of  his  coun- 
trymen, prolonging  the  term  of  his  military 
command,  and  entrusting  him  with  the  numer- 
ous fleet,  which  had  sailed  twro  years  before,  to 
counteract  the  designs  of  the  enemy.2  This 
fleet,  consisting  of  ninety  galleys,  was  actually 
commanded  by  Pharax,  who,  during  the  glori- 
rious  career  of  Agesilaus’s  victories,  had  si- 
lently performed  very  useful  and  meritorious 
service.  The  naval  preparations  of  Artaxerxes, 
which,  as  above  mentioned,  first  excited  the 
alarm  in  Greece,  were  still  carried  on  with  ac- 
tivity. Various  squadrons  were  equipped  in 
the  harbours  of  Phoenicia,  Cilicia,  and  other 
maritime  provinces,  of  wffiich  the  combined 
strength  far  exceeded  the  fleet  of  Greece.  But 
the  vigilant  diligence  of  Pharax  prevented  their 
union.  His  ships  wrere  victualled  by  Nephres, 
the  rebellious  viceroy  of  Egypt;  with  wliqjn, 
in  the  name  of  Sparta,  he  had  contracted  an 
alliance.  The  ports  of  Cyprus,  Rhodes, 'and 
the  Greek  cities  in  the  Carian  Cheiisonesus. 
were  open  to  his  cruisers.  Availing  hiroself  of 
those  important  advantages,  he  steered- with 
rapidity  along  the  hostile  shores  ; and  seasona- 
bly dividing  or  combining  his  fleet,  qffjectually 
restrained  the  enemy  from  -maj^tg  their  pro- 
jected descents  on  Peloponnesuqpuid  even  de- 
terred them  from  sailing  the<||Asiatic  seas.3 
Agesilaus,  unmindful  of  this  essential  service, 
wffiich  had  prevented  any  diversion  of  the 
Greek  forces  in  the  East,  deprived  Pharax  of 
the  command,  and  substituted  in  his  stead  Pi- 
sander,  a near  relation  of  his  ow?n,  who  pos- 
sessed indeed  the  ambitious  valour  and  manly 
firmness  of  the  Spartan  character,  but  neither 
the  experience  nor  the  abilities,  sufficient  to 
qualify  him  for  this  weighty  trust. 

The  first  effects  of  this  fatal  error  wore  eclips 
ed  by  a momentary  blaze  of  glory.  Agesilaus 
entered  Phrygia;  attacked,  conquered,  and  pur- 
sued Phamabazus ; wTho,  flying  from  post  to 
post,  wTas  successively  driven  from  every  part 
of  his  valuable  province.4  The  fame  of  the 
Grecian  victories  struck  terror  into  the  neigh- 
bouring countries.  Cotys,5  or  Cory  las,  the 

2 Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  iii.  p.  501. 

3 Isocrat.  Panegyr.  He  does  not  give  the  name  of  the 
admiral,  which  we  find  in  Xenophon’s  Gr.  Hist. 

4 Xenophon  compares  him  to  the  Scythian  Nomades. 

5 He  is  called  Cotys  in  Xenoph.  Gr.  Hist.  Plutarch,  and 
Diodorus ; and  Coryl.as  in  Xenoph.  Anabas.  1.  v.  p.  370. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


303 


XXVII.] 

proud  tyrant  of  Paphlagonia,  who  disdained  the 
friendship  of  the  great  king,6  sent  humbly  to 
request  that  the  native  valour  of  his  numerous 
and  invincible  cavalry  might  be  associated  with 
the  Spartan  arms.7  The  inferior  satraps,  and 
especially  their  oppressed  subjects,  courted  the 
protection  of  Agesilaus,  expecting  that  the  un- 
known dominion  of  Greece  would  be  lighter 
than  the  yoke  of  Persia,  of  which  they  had 
long  felt  and  regretted  the  severity.  The  de- 
ceitful Ariaeus,  who  had  shared  the  guilt,  with- 
out sharing  the  punishment  of  Cyrus,  could 
never  be  heartily  reconciled  to  a master  against 
whom  he  had  once  rebelled.  His  actual  wealth, 
and  ancient  honours,  gave  him  a powerful  in- 
fluence over  the  numerous  Barbarians,  who  had 
followed  the  standard  of  Cyrus  and  his  own  ; 
and  whose  discontented  spirits  might  easily  be 
inflamed  into  a second  revolt.6  The  commo- 
tion was  general  in  Lesser  Asia ; and,  as  Egypt 
had  already  rebelled,  Agesilaus,  at  the  head  of 
about  twenty  thousand  Greeks,  and  innumera- 
ble Barbarian  allies,  might  entertain  a very  ra- 
tional expectation  to  shake  the  throne  of  Arta- 
xerxes ; especially  as  the  experience  of  his 
friend  and  admirer,  Xenophon,  who  was  still 
the  companion  of  his  arms,  must  have  power- 
fully encouraged  him  to  that  glorious  enter- 
prise.8 9 * * 

But  an  undertaking  of  which  the  success, 
however  splendid,  could  not  probably  have 
been  followed  by  any  solid  advantages,  be- 
cause the  diminutive  territory  and  population 
of  Sparta  formed  a basis  far  too  feeble  to  sup- 
port such  a weight  of  conquest,  was  blasted  in 
■the  bloom  of  hope,  by  intelligence  equally  un- 
expected and  distressful.  Tithraustes,  who 
knew  the  power  of  gold  over  the  Grecian  coun- 
cils, determined,  with  the  approbation  of  the 
king  his  master,  to  give  full  play  to  this  main- 
spring of  politics.  The  Cretan  and  iEgean  seas 
were  carelessly  guarded  by  the  unsuspecting 
confidence  of  the  new  admiral.  Tithraustes 
perceived  the  neglect ; and  despatched,  without 
any  fear  of  capture,  various  emissaries  into 
Greece,  well  qualified,  by  bribes  and  address,  to 
practise  with  the  discontented  and  factious  de- 
magogues, the  natural  enemies  of  Sparta,  of 
aristocratic  government,  and  of  the  public 
tranquillity.16 

The  principal  instrument  of  these  secret  ne- 
gotiations was  Timocrates  of  Rhodes,  a man 
of  an  intriguing  and  audacious  spirit,  who  car- 
ried with  him  no  less  a sum  than  fifty  talents 
{above  nine  thousand  pounds  sterling,)  which 
he  distributed,  with  lavish  promises  of  future 
bounty,  to  Cyclon  of  Argos,  to  Timolaus  and 
Polyanthes  of  Corinth,  to  Androclides  Ismenias 
and  Galaxadorus  of  Thebes ; names  for  the 
most  part  obscure  in  the  annals  of  war,  but  im- 
portant in  the  history  of  domestic  faction.  The 
tyranny  of  Sparta  was  the  perpetual  theme  of 
these  venal  hirelings,  not  only  in  their  respective 
communities,  but  in  every  quarter  of  Greece, 
to  which  they  were  successively  carried  with  a 


6 Xenoph.  ibid.  7 Plut.  in  Agesil. 

8 Ibid.  Diodor.  1.  xiv.  p.  439. 

9 Diodor.  ibid,  et  Xenoph.  Agesil.  Panegyr.  ct  Plut.  in 

Agesil. 

10  Xenoph.  p.  513.  et  seq. 


mercenary  diligence.  They  painted  in  the 
strongest  colours  the  injustice,  the  cruelty,  and 
the  immeasurable  ambition  of  that  haughty  re- 
public, who  had  made  soldiers  of  her  slaves, 
that  she  might  make  slaves  of  her  allies.  The 
destructive  and  impious  devastation  of  the  sa- 
cred territory  of  Ellis  was  arraigned  with  every 
term  of  reproach.  The  same  calamities,  it  was 
prophesied,  must  soon  overwhelm  the  neigh- 
bouring countries,  unless  they  prepared  (while 
it  was  yet  time  to  prepare)  for  a vigorous  de- 
fence ; since  Sparta  pursued  her  conquests  in 
Asia  with  no  other  view  but  to  lull  the  security, 
and  rivet  the  chains,  of  Greece.11 

Strong  as  these  invectives  may  appear,  and 
interested  as  they  certainly  were,  they  did  not 
exceed  the  truth;  and,  what  is  of  more  im- 
portance, they  were  addressed  to  men  well  dis- 
posed to  believe  them.  Since  the  subversion 
of  the  Athenian  power,  the  imperious  govern- 
ment of  Sparta  had  rendered  her  almost  alike 
odious  to  her  old,  and  to  her  new,  confederates. 
The  former,  and  particularly  the  Corinthians, 
Arcadians,  and  Acaeans,  complained  with  the 
warmth  which  justice  gives,  that,  after  sharing 
the  toils  and  dangers  of  the  Peloponnesian  war, 
they  had  been  cruelly  deprived  of  the  fruits  of 
victory.  The  latter,  and  especially  such  com- 
munities as  had  revolted  from  Athens,  lament- 
ed that  their  blood  and  treasure  had  been  spent 
in  vain.  They  had  fought  for  freedom  and  in- 
dependence ; but  their  valour  had  been  re- 
warded by  a more  intolerable  servitude.  Argos 
had  long  been  the  enemy,  and  Thebes  aspired 
to  become  the  rival,  of  Sparta.  Above  all,  the 
Athenians,  animated  by  the  patriotism  of  Thra- 
sybulus,  their  deliverer  from  the  Spartan  yoke, 
longed  to  employ  the  first  moments  of  return- 
ing vigour  in  the  pursuit  of  glory  and  revenge. 

The  corruption  of  those  morbid  humours, 
which  must  have  soon  fermented  of  them- 
selves, was  accelerated  by  the  mercenary  emis- 
saries of  Tithraustes.  The  occasion,  too,  seemed 
favourable  for  assaulting  the  domestic  strength 
of  a republic,  whose  arms  were  ambitiously 
employed  in  extending  her  distant  conquests. 
The  conduct  of  the  Thebans  had  already  an- 
nounced this  design*  They  not  only  refused 
assistance  to  Agesilaus  towards  carrying  on  his 
eastern  campaign,  but  treated  him  without  re- 
spect or  decency,  while  he  crossed  their  domi- 
nions ; and,  were  not  ambition  blind,  he  must 
have  perceived  and  resented  their  hostility,  and 
have  delayed  to  undertake  his  expedition  against 
Asia,  till  he  had  extinguished  the  seeds  of  war 
in  Greece. 

But,  notwithstanding  the  concurring  causes 
which  hastened  a rupture,  such  was  the  terror 
of  the  Spartan  name,  increased  by  the  recent 
glory  of  Agesilaus,  that  none  of  her  numerous 
enemies  had  courage  openly  to  take  arms,  and 
to  avow  their  just  animosity.  After  various, 
but  secret  conferences,  held  in  the  principal 
cities,  it  was  determined  to  wound  that  repub- 
lic through  her  allies,  the  Phocians,  who  were 
distinguished,  amidst  the  very  general  discon- 
tent, by  their  unshaken  attachment  and  fidelity. 
The  Locri  Ozolce,  a fierce  and  insolent  people,'2 


11  Xenoph.  p.  514 

12  Thucydid.  1.  i.  p.  4.  ot  p.  47. 


304 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


I Chap. 


who  lived  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Phocis,  were 
easily  persuaded  to  levy  contributions  from  a 
district  on  their  eastern  frontier,  to  which  they 
had  not  the  smallest  claim,  and  of  which  the 
dominion  had  been  long  a matter  of  dispute 
between  the  Phocians  and  Thebans.  Both  these 
states  seem  to  have  been  injured,  and  exactly 
in  the  same  degree,  by  this  aggression  ; but  the 
Phocians,  who  were  the  enemies  of  the  Locri, 
took  arms  to  revenge,  while  the  Thebans,  who 
were  their  friends,  prepared  to  abet,  their  in- 
justice. They  expected,  and  their  expectation 
was  gratified,  that  the  Spartans  would  quickly 
interfere  in  a quarrel  that  affected  the  most  im- 
portant interests  of  their  Phocian  allies ; a mea- 
sure which  tended  precisely  to  that  issue  which 
prudence  and  policy  required,  since  the  The- 
bans would  be  compelled  to  arm  in  their  own 
defence,  and  must  appear  to  all  the  neutral 
states  of  Greece,  and  even  to  their  Lacedaemo- 
nian enemies,  to  be  undesignedly  dragged  into 
a war,  not  from  an  inclination  to  commit,  but 
from  the  necessity  to  repel,  injuries.1 

The  irascible  pride  of  Sparta,  ever  prone  to 
chastise  the  smallest  offences  with  unbounded 
severity,  conspired  with  the  most  sanguine 
hopes  of  Thebes  and  her  allies.  Instead  of 
condescending  to  remonstrate,  instead  of  de- 
manding satisfaction,  instead  of  ordering  the 
Thebans  to  evacuate  the  territory  of  Phocis, 
and  to  abstain  from  future  injury,  the  Spartans 
flew  to  arms,  and  marched  to  invade  Boeotia. 
On  the  first  rumour  of  hostilities,  the  activity 
of  Lysander  had  been  employed  to  assemble 
their  northern  confederates,  the  Maleans,  He- 
racleans,  with  those  who  inhabited  the  villages 
of  Doris  and  Mount  Gita.  He  penetrated  into 
the  Theban  territory,  gained  Lebadea  by  force, 
Orchomenus  by  address,  and  prepared  to  as- 
sault the  walls  of  Haliartus,  which,  next  to 
Thebes,  was  the  strongest  of  the  Boeotian  cities. 
The  difficulty  of  this  enterprise  made  him  de- 
spatch a messenger  to  hasten  the  arrival  of 
Pausanias,  the  Spartan  king,  who  had  led  forth 
six  thousand  Peloponnesians,  to  co-operate 
with  this  experienced  commander.  The  un- 
fortunate messenger  was  taken  by  the  scouts 
of  the  Thebans,  and  with  him  a letter,  in  which 
Lysander  had  signified  his  purpose,  and  ap- 
pointed the  time  of  rendezvous  with  Pausanias, 
that  they  might  surprise  Haliartus  with  their 
combined  forces.2 

At  the  same  time  that  this  useful  intelligence 
was  brought  to  Thebes,  there  arrived  in  that 
city  a powerful  reinforcement  of  Athenian 
troops,  who,  though  their  own  capital  was  un- 
walled and  defenceless,  had  been  persuaded  by 
Thrasybulus  to  brave  the  resentment  of  Sparta. 
To  these  generous  auxiliaries  the  Thebans  com- 
mitted their  city,  their  wives,  their  children, 
and  every  object  of  their  most  tender  concern ; 
while  the  warlike  youth,  and  almost  all  those  of 
a military  age,  assembled  in  complete  armour, 
set  out  in  the  dead  of  night,  and  performing  a 
journey  of  fifteen  miles  with  silence  and  celerity, 


1 Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  iii.  ad  fin.  Diodor.  xiv.  82.  Plu- 
<5irch.  in  Lysand.  p.  448,  et  seq. 

2 Xenoph.  Hellen.  p.  503,  et  8eq. 


reached,  while  it  was  yet  dark,  the  gates  of 
Haliartus.  Their  unexpected  arrival  struck  a 
pleasing  terror  into  their  friends,  who  were  af- 
fected still  more  deeply,  when  they  understood 
the  cause  of  this  nocturnal  expedition.  The 
Thebans  dispelled  their  fear,  and  animated  their 
hope,  expecting  not  only  to  save  Haliartus,  but 
to  obtain  a signal  advantage  over  the  unsus- 
pecting confidence  of  the  assailants. 

For  this  purpose,  they  sent  a strong  detach- 
ment to  lie  in  ambush  without  the  walls.  The 
rest,  reinforced  by  the  townsmen,  formed  them- 
selves in  battle  array,  and  stood  to  their  arms, 
behind  the  gates.  Lysander  arrived  in  the 
morning;  but  Pausanias,  who  had  not  received 
his  message,  still  continued  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Platsea.  The  soldiers,  flushed  by  re- 
cent victory,  disdained  to  depend  on  the  tardy 
motions  of  their  auxiliaries.  They  requested 
Lysander  to  lead  them  against  the  place  ; a 
measure  to  which  he  was  otherwise  much  in- 
clined, being  eager  to  snatch  the  glory  to  him- 
self, without  dividing  it  with  Pausanias,  his 
rival  and  enemy. 

He  approached  the  town,  and  boldly  began 
the  attack,  perceiving  the  walls  and  battlements 
to  be  unguarded.  But  before  any  breach  was 
made,  the  different  gates  at  once  flew  open, 
while  the  Thebans  and  Haliartians  rushed  forth 
with  one  consent,  and  with  irresistible  fury. 
Lysander,  with  a priest  who  attended  him,  was 
slain  on  the  first  onset.  His  men  began  to  rally, 
but  the  Thebans,  posted  in  ambush  without 
the  city,  occasioned  a new  terror.  The  enemy 
every  where  gave  way ; above  a thousand  fell  in 
the  field  of  battle,  the  rest  were  routed,  put  to 
flight,  and  pursued  with  great  slaughter.3 

The  first  intelligence  of  this  fatal  disaster 
brought  Pausanias  to  the  scene  of  action,  that 
he  might  examine  the  full  extent  of  the  calami- 
ty. It  would  have  been  fruitless  to  attempt  the 
siege  of  Haliartus ; but  it  was  necessary  to  carry 
off  the  bodies  of  the  slain.  Pausanias  held  a 
council  of  war,  to  determine  whether  this  pious 
duty  should  be  effected  by  force,  or  whether  he 
might  condescend  to  solicit  the  humanity  of  the 
victors.  Force  seemed  dangerous,  as  the  princi- 
pal destruction  had  happened  immediately  un- 
der the  walls  of  the  place,  which  it  would  be 
impossible  to  approach  without  suffering  ex- 
tremely from  the  missile  weapons  of  the  enemy, 
and  without  being  exposed  to  a second  attack, 
perhaps  more  bloody  than  the  first.  It  was 
therefore  unanimously  resolved  to  send  a Spar- 
tan herald  to  Haliartus,  requesting  leave  to  bury 
the  dead.  The  demand  was  granted,  on  con- 
dition that  the  Peloponnesian  army  should  im- 
mediately evacuate  Boeotia.  Pausanias  com- 
plied, and  returned  to  Sparta.  His  want  of 
success,  rather  than  his  demerit,  subjected  him 
to  trial  and  condemnation.  He  escaped  capital 
punishment  by  flying  to  Tegea,  where  he  soon 
afterwards  sickened  and  died.  His  son  Agesi- 
polis  assumed  the  Spartan  sceptre,  which,  at 
that  juncture,  required  the  direction  of  more 
experienced  hands.4 


3 Xenoph.  1.  iii.  p.  505,  et  seq.  Plutarch,  ia  Lysand 

4 Ibid. 


XXVIII.]  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


305 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


Recall  of  Agesilaus  from  the  East — He  invades  Bceotia — Views  of  Evagoras  King  of  Cyprus — 
His  Friendship  with  Conon — The  latter  entrusted  with  the  Persian  Fleet — He  defeats  the  La - 
cedcemonians — Battle  of  Coroncea — The  Corinthian  War — Conon  rebuilds  the  Walls  and 
Harbours  of  Athens — Conquests  of  Conon  and  Thrasybulus — Peace  of  Antalcidas. 


Olymp.  xcvi.  3. 
A.  C.  394. 


HPHE  defeat  at  Haliartus, 
which  exasperated,  with- 
out humbling,  the  Spartans, 
confirmed  the  courage  of  their  enemies,  and 
hastened  the  defection  of  their  allies.  The 
league  was  openly  ratified  and  avowed  by  the 
republics  of  Thebes,  Argos,  Athens,  and  Co- 
rinth. The  spirit  of  revolt  seized  Euboea,  per- 
vaded the  provinces  of  Acarnania,  Leucas,  Am- 
bracia,  the  rich  cities  of  Chalcis,  and  the  war- 
like principalities  of  Thessaly.5  The  whole 
fabric  of  the  Spartan  power,  raised  and  cement- 
ed by  a war  of  twenty-seven  years,  was  shaken 
to  the  foundation ; their  victorious  leaders  were 
no  more  ; nor  did  any  resource  remain,  but 
that  of  recalling  Agesilaus  from  his  Asiatic  vic- 
tories, that  the  fortune  and  valour  of  this  ac- 
complished general  might  sustain  the  falling 
ruins  of  his  country.  He  received  the  fatal 
scytale,6  intimating  his  recall,  at  the  important 
crisis  of  his  fortune.  He  had  completed  his 
preparations  for  marching  into  Upper  Asia,  and 
his  heart  already  beat  with  the  ardour  of  pro- 
mised conquest  and  glory.7 

Having  assembled  the  confederates,  he  com- 
municated the  revered  order  of  the  republic,  with 
which  he  expressed  his  resolution  immediately 
to  comply.  The  generous  troops,  having  asso- 
ciated their  own  honour  with  the  renown  of  the 
general,  testified  their  grief  and  their  reluctance 
by  tears  and  entreaties.  But  Agesilaus  remain- 
ed firm  in  his  purpose,  to  obey  the  command  of 
Sparta,  to  set  bounds  to  his  triumphs  in  the 
East,  and  to  turn  the  direction  of  his  arms  to- 
wards a less  promising  field,  to  which  he  was 
summoned  by  the  danger  of  his  country.8  Be- 
fore crossing  the  Hellespont,  he  detached  four 
thousand  veteran  soldiers,  to  strengthen  the 
Asiatic  garrisons ; several  of  which  he  visited 
in  person,  every  where  assuring  his  friends, 
that  it  was  his  most  earliest  wish  to  rejoin  them 
m Asia,  whenever  the  troubles  of  Greece  should 
permit  his  absence. 

The  greater  part  of  the  army,  and  particularly 
the  new  levies  of  Ionians  and  iEolians,  who  had 
passed  their  apprenticeship  in  arms  under  his 
fortunate  standard,  declared,  with  tears  of  affec- 
tion, that  they  never  would  abandon  their  be- 
loved general.  Agesilaus  encouraged  this  dis- 
position, which  was  extremely  favourable  to  his 
views ; and  lest  it  might  be  nothing  but  a sally 
of  temporary  enthusiasm,  artfully  secured  its 
permanence,  by  proposing  the  distribution  of 


5 Diodor.  1.  xiv.  p.  443.  Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  iii.  p.  507. 

6 See  c.  xii.  p.  151. 

7 Plutarch,  in  Agesil.  et  Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  iv.  p.  513. 

8 Xenoph.  Hellen.  et  Panegyr.  Agesil.  et  Plutarch,  in 
Agesil.  bestow  seemingly  immoderate  praises  on  this  resolu- 
tion ; but  it  is  to  be  considered,  that  in  the  tumultuary  govern- 
ments of  Greece,  it  was  not  uncommon  to  behold  a success- 
ful general,  proud  of  the  zeal  and  strength  of  his  followers, 
set  at  defiance  the  feeble  aulhority  of  his  republic. 

2Q 


valuable  rewards,  in  the  Thracian  Chersonesus, 
to  such  officers  as  brought  the  best  companies  of 
foot  or  cavalry  for  the  service  of  his  intended 
expedition.  He  was  able  to  perform  his  pro- 
mises with  a generous  magnificence  ; since,  af- 
ter defraying  the  necessary  expenses  of  the  war, 
he  carried  from  Asia  above  a thousand  talents, 
or  a hundred  and  ninety-three  thousand  pounds 
sterling.9 

When  the  whole  forces  were  assembled  in  the 
Chersonesus,  they  probably  amounted  to  about 
ten  thousand  men.  Their  nearest  route  into 
Greece  lay  through  the  same  countries  that  had 
been  traversed  near  a century  before  by  Xerxes  ; 
but  the  activity  of  Agesilaus  accomplished  in  a 
month  what,  to  eastern  effeminacy,  had  been 
the  journey  of  a laborious  year.  In  the  long 
interval  of  time  between  these  celebrated  expe- 
ditions, the  Barbarians  of  Thrace  and  Macedon, 
through  whose  countries  it  was  necessary  to 
march,  seem  not  to  have  made  much  improve- 
ment in  the  arts  of  war  or  peace.  They  were 
still  undisciplined  and  disunited  ; and  their  de- 
sultory arms  were  alike  incapable  of  opposing 
the  Spartan  and  the  Persian.  Agesilaus  de- 
scended without  resistance  into  the  plains  of 
Thessaly,  where  his  progress  was  stopped  for  a 
moment  by  the  numerous  cavalry  of  that  coun- 
try, whose  petty  princes  had  acceded  to  the  al- 
liance formed  against  the  ambition  of  Sparta. 
By  a judicious  disposition  of  his  forces,  and  by 
evolutions  equally  skilful  and  rapid,  he  speedily 
surmounted  this  obstacle.  To  the  charge  of  the 
Thessalian  cavalry,  he  opposed  the  weight  of  his 
heavy-armed  men,  by  whom  the  enemy  were 
routed  and  put  to  flight.  Then  with  his  own 
horsemen,  who  would  have  proved  an  unequal 
match  for  the  unbroken  vigour  of  the  Thessa- 
lians, he  pursued  them  with  great  slaughter, 
took  many  prisoners,  and  erected  a trophy  of 
his  victory,  between  the  mountains  Prantes  and 
Narthacium,10  which  form  the  western  boundary 
of  the  extensive  plain  of  Coronaea. 

Instead  of  continuing  his  journey  through  the 
hostile  country  of  Locris,  whose  weakness  he 
disdained  to  chastise,  he  marched  through  the 
friendly  territories  of  Doris  and  Phocis,  that  he 
might  turn  the  shock  of  the  war  against  the 
daring  and  rebellious  Thebans.  He  found  them 
in  arms  with  their  powerful  allies,  rather  pro- 
voked, than  discouraged,  by  a bloody  but  unde- 
cisive battle,  which,  soon  after  the  disaster  at 
Haliartus,  had  been  fought  against  the  Lacedse- 
monians  at  Epiecia,  a small  town  on  the  com- 
mon frontier  of  Corinth  and  Sicyon.  The  con- 
federate army  was  still  about  twenty  thousand 
strong;  the  forces  of  Agesilaus  fully  equalled 
that  number,  as  he  had  received  considerable 


9 Xenoph.  Hellen.  et  Panegyr.  Agesil.  et  Plutarch,  in 
Agesil.  et  Diodor.  p.  441. 

10  Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  iv.  p.  517. 


306 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


supplies  from  Sparta  and  Phocis ; and  as  the 
secondary  cities,  particularly  Orchomenus  of 
Boeotia,  and  Epidaurus  of  Argolis,  had  joined 
his  arms,  prompted  by  their  usual  envy  and 
resentment  against  their  respective  capitals. 
The  hostile  battalions  approached ; those  of 
Agesilaus  marching,  in  good  order,  from  the 
banks  of  the  Cephissus,  while  the  Thebans 
impetuously  descended  from  the  mountains  of 
Helicon.  Before  they  arrived  at  the  scene  of 
action,  in  the  Boeotian  plain  of  Coronaea,1  a 
city  thirty  miles  distant  from  Thebes,  the  su- 
perstition of  both  armies  was  alarmed  by  an 
eclipse  of  the  sun ; and  the  wisdom  of  Agesi- 
laus was  alarmed,  far  more  justly,  by  most  un- 
expected intelligence  from  the  East.2 

Since  his  unfortunate  partiality  had  entrusted 
the  Lacedaemonian  fleet  to  the  obstinacy  and  in- 
experience of  his  kinsman  Pisander,  the  Per- 
sian, or  rather  Phoenician,  squadrons  had  been 
committed  to  the  direction  of  a far  more  able 
commander.  After  the  decisive  engagement  at 
.®gos-Potamos,  which  was  followed  by  the 
taking  of  Athens,  and  the  conclusion  of  the  Pe- 
loponnesian war,  Conon,  the  Athenian  admiral, 
escaped  with  a few  galleys  into  the  harbour  of 
Salamis,  the  capital  of  the  isle  of  Cyprus. 
That  city,  and  a considerable  part  of  the  island, 
was  then  subject  to  Evagoras,  a man  whom 
the  voice  of  panegyric  represents  as  governing 
with  consummate  wisdom,3  a kingdom,  which 
he  had  acquired  by  heroic  valour.  This  admired 
prince  boasted  a descent  from  Teucer,  who,  re- 
turning from  the  siege  of  Troy  eight  hundred 
years  before  the  reign  of  Evagoras,  had  founded 
the  first  Grecian  colony  on  the  Cyprian  shore. 
During  that  long  space  of  time,  Salamis  had 
undergone  various  revolutions.  Evagoras  was 
born  and  educated,  under  the  reign  of  an 
usurper,  who  fell  by  the  dagger  of  an  assassin, 
who  in  his  turn  assumed  the  crown.  Evagoras 
fled  to  Cilicia,  obtained  the  protection  of  the 
satrap  of  that  province,  returned  to  Salamis  with 
a handful  of  men,  surprised  and  dethroned  the 
new  tyrant,  to  whom  he  was  not  bound  by  any 
tie  of  allegiance. 

From  the  moment  that  he  began  to  reign,  he 
discovered  the  most  partial  fondness  for  Athens, 
in  whose  language,  arts,  and  institutions,  his 
youth  had  been  liberally  instructed ; and  which 
afterwards  formed  the  study  and  delight  of  his 
manhood,  the  amusement  and  consolation  of 
his  declining  age.  But  unfortunately  for  the 
sensibility  and  affectionate  gratitude  of  Eva- 
goras towards  a country  to  which  he  owed  his 
education  and  his  happiness,  he  lived  at  a pe- 
riod when,  before  the  situation  of  his  princi- 
pality enabled  him  to  afford  any  effectual  as- 
sistance to  Athens,  he  beheld  that  proud  republic 
deprived  of  the  splendour  and  dominion  which 
she  had  enjoyed  above  seventy  years.  He  la- 
mented her  misfortunes  with  a filial  tenderness, 
and  received  with  the  kindest  hospitality  her 
oppressed  and  afflicted  citizens.  The  virtuous 
and  enterprising  Conon  deserved  his  affection 


1 The  places  distinguished  by  that  name  are  described 
by  Strabo,  p.  407,  410,  411,  and  434 

2 Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  iv.  p.  518.  Plut.  in  Agesil. 

3 Isocrates's  panegyric  of  Evagoras  may  be  entitled  the 

Dicture  of  a great  king : the  character  is  only  too  perfect. 


[Chap. 

and  esteem,  and  soon  acquired  the  unlimited 
confidence  of  a mind  congenial  to  his  own 
They  acted  with  the  happiest  concert  for  th* 
security  and  aggrandisement  of  the  little  king 
dom,  alluring  new  inhabitants  from  Greece,  in 
creasing  their  arts  and  industry,  extending  na 
vigation  and  commerce  ; and,  in  a short  time 
Salamis  was  able  to  fit  out  a considerable  nava 
power,  and  to  subdue  and  incorporate  with  hei 
own  subjects  several  of  the  neighbouring  com 
munities.  The  great  king,  who  had  long  been 
considered  as  lord  paramount  of  Cyprus,  in 
terfered  not  in  the  domestic  concerns  of  the 
island,  provided  he  received  from  thence  his 
small  customary  tribute.  The  flourishing  state 
of  Evagoras’s  affairs  might  enable  him  to  pay, 
and  to  exceed,  the  stipulated  sum  ; though  it  is 
probable  that  he  early  meditated,  what  he  af- 
terwards attempted  to  accomplish,  the  deliver- 
ance of  his  country  from  this  mark  of  bond- 
age. 

But  a design  which  actually  engaged  him 
more  deeply,  and  to  which  he  was  strongly  in- 
cited by  the  ardent  solicitations  of  Conon,  was 
the  restoration  of  Athens  (which  he  considered 
as  his  adoptive  country  and  parent)  to  that 
state  of  glory  and  pre-eminence  from  which 
she  had  miserably  fallen.  The  virtuous  and 
patriotic  friends  (for  as  such  contemporaries 
described  them)  are  represented  as  pilots  and 
mariners  watching  the  tides  and  currents,  and 
catching  every  propitious  gale  that  might  fa- 
cilitate the  execution  of  this  hazardous  enter- 
prise. The  .victories  of  Agesilaus  in  the  East, 
which  threatened  to  shake  the  throne  of  Arta- 
xerxes,  furnished  an  opportunity  too  favourable 
to  escape  their  vigilance.  Conon  had  been  al- 
ready recommended  to  the  great  king  by  Eva- 
goras ; and  the  recommendation  had  been  en- 
forced by  Pharnabazus,  who  knew  and  admired 
his  merit.  The  experienced  skill  of  the  illus- 
trious Athenian,  and  of  his  countrymen  Hiero- 
nymus and  Nicodemus,  had  assisted  in  equip- 
ping the  Barbarian  squadrons  in  the  Cilician  and 
Phoenician  harbours.  But  the  abilities  of  Pha- 
rax,  the  Spartan  admiral,  and  the  cowardice 
or  negligence  of  the  Persian  commanders,  hith- 
erto rendered  useless  a fleet  of  near  three  hun- 
dred sail,  which  was  ill  manned,  and  which 
often  wanted  money. 

The  activity  of  Conon  undertook  to  remedy 
these  evils.  He  left  Cilicia,  travelled  to  Thap- 
sacus,  embarked  in  the  Euphrates ; and,  as  his 
vessel  was  moved  by  the  combined  impulse  of 
winds,  oars,  and  stream,  he  descended  with  ra- 
pidity along  the  winding  channel  to  Babylon.4 
The  only  obstacle  to  his  intended  conference 
with  Artaxerxes  was,  his  unwillingness  to  de- 
grade the  Athenian  character  by  depressing  the 
body,  bending  the  knee,  and  paying  the  usual 
marks  of  respectful  submission,  which  were 
readily  granted  by  Barbarians  to  the  monarch 
of  the  East ; but  which  the  Greeks  refused  to 
man,  and  reserved  for  the  majesty  of  the  gods. 
This  difficulty,  however,  was  at  length  obviated 
by  those  whose  mutual  interest  strongly  soli- 
cited an  interview.  Conon  represented  to  the 
trembling  monarch,  who  was  still  agitated  by 


4  Diodorus,  1.  xiv.  p.  442 


XXVIII.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


307 


the  terror  of  Agesilaus’s  victories,  the  necessity 
of  opposing  the  Spartans  vigorously  by  sea. 
Their  fleet  alone  had  acquired,  and  maintained, 
the  command  of  the  Asiatic  coast.  A single 
defeat  at  sea  would  excite  their  allies  to  revolt, 
and  drive  their  armies  from  Asia.  But  to  ob- 
tain this  advantage,  the  great  king  must  employ 
an  admiral  worthy  to  command,  and  men  wil- 
ling to  obey.  In  looking  for  the  first,  the  valour 
of  Pharnabazus  could  not  escape  his  notice. 
The  second  might  be  purchased  by  money. 
And  should  Artaxerxes  entrust  him  with  the 
requisite  sum,  he  pledged  his  life  that  he  would 
soon  collect  such  a number  of  sailors  (chiefly 
from  the  Grecian  coasts  and  islands)  as  would 
enable  him  to  defeat  the  fleet  of  Sparta,  and  to 
compel  that  republic  to  abandon  her  eastern 
conquests.  The  proposal  pleased  Artaxerxes, 
the  money  was  raised,  and  Conon  returned  to 
Cilicia  to  accomplish  his  undertaking. 

From  various  sea-ports  of  Asia,  from  the 
smaller  Greek  cities,  the  reluctant  subjects  of 
Sparta,  from  several  maritime  towns  whose  in- 
habitants were  ready  to  serve  any  master  for 
pay,  but  chiefly  from  the  powerful  islands  of 
Rhodes  and  Cyprus,  he  soon  collected  a naval 
force  exceeding  his  most  sanguine  hopes  ; and 
which  might  have  enabled  him  (in- 
y.mP’  dependent  of  the  Barbarian  squa- 
™Vl’  'g  . drons  commanded  by  Pharnabazus) 

* ' ’ to  contend  on  nearly  equal  terms 

with  Pisander  ! With  their  combined  strength, 
Conon  and  Pharnabazus  sailed  westward  in 
quest  of  the  hostile  fleet,  persuaded  that  the 
rash  confidence  of  the  Spartan  admiral  would 
not  decline  battle  with  a superior  enemy.  As 
the  united  armament  doubled  the  northern 
point  of  Rhodes,  they  perceived  the  Lacedae- 
monian squadron,  amounting  to  near  a hun- 
dred galleys,  in  the  capacious  bay  which  is 
formed  between  the  projections  of  the  Dorian 
shore,  and  the  small  islands  called  Sporades, 
from  the  careless  irregularity  with  which  they 
seem  to  have  been  scattered  by  the  hand  of 
nature.5  The  unexpected  approach  of  such  a 
formidable  fleet  did  not  shake  the  sullen  obsti- 
nacy of  Pisander.  He  commanded  (as  it  had 
been  foreseen)  his  men  to  prepare  for  battle. 
They  bore  up  against  the  enemy,  but  on  a 
nearer  survey  were  alarmed  and  terrified  with 
the  excessive  disproportion  of  numbers.  The 
greater  part  turned  their  prows,  and  retired 
towards  the  friendly  shore  of  Cnidus.  Pisan- 
der advanced  in  the  admiral  galley,  and  died 
fighting  bravely  in  defence  of  the  Spartan  ho- 
nour, vainly  endeavouring  to  maintain,  by  the 
vigour  of  his  arm,  what  had  been  betrayed  by 
the  weakness  of  his  counsels.  The  victors 
pursued ; and  after  destroying  great  numbers 
of  the  enemy,  took  and  carried  off  fifty  gal- 
leys ; a capture  sufficient  to  decide  the  fate  of 
any  Grecian  republic.6 


5 Virgil  expresses,  in  few  words,  the  geography  described 
in  the  text : 

Et  crcbris  legimus  freta  eonsita  terris. 

Virg.  xEneid.  iii.  v.  120. 

6 Polybius  seems  to  consider  the  battle  of  Cnidus  ns  the 
era  at  which  the  Spartans  lost  the  command  of  the  sea, 
which  they  had  acquired  by  their  victory  at  ^Egos-Pota- 
mos.  He  says,  their  dominion  lasted  twelve  years.  This 
number,  however,  is  too  large  for  the  interval  between  those 


q,  It  was  the  intelligence  of  this 

battle,  of  which  he  anticipated  the 

A C 394  consecluences’  111  l°ss  °* 

* Spartan  dominions  from  Cnidus  to 
Byzantium,  that  justly  alarmed  and  afflicted 
the  patriotic  breast  of  Agesilaus.  He  assem- 
bled the  troops,  honestly  confessed  the  death  of 
Pisander,  but  artfully  declared,  that,  though  the 
admiral  was  slain,  his  fleet  had  obtained  a com- 
plete victory,  for  which  it  became  himself  and 
them  to  pay  the  usual  tribute  of  thanks  and 
sacrifices  to  the  protecting  gods.  He  then 
crowned  himself  with  a chaplet  of  flowers,  and 
set  the  example  of  performing  this  pious  duty. 
The  devout  stratagem  was  attended  with  a very 
salutary  effect ; for  in  a skirmish  between  the 
advanced  guards,  immediately  preceding  the 
battle,  the  Lacedaemonian  troops,  animated  by 
their  imagined  victory  in  the  East,  defeated 
and  repelled  the  enemy.  Mean  while  the  main 
bodies  of  either  army  advanced  into  the  plain 
of  Coronsea,  at  first  in  awful  silence ; but  hav- 
ing approached  within  a furlong  of  each  other, 
the  Thebans  raised  a universal  shout,  and  ran 
furiously  to  the  charge.  Their  impetuosity 
bore  down  every  thing  before  them  ; but  the 
troops  immediately  commanded  by  Agesilaus, 
repelled  the  left  wring  of  the  enemy,  chiefly 
consisting  of  Argives  and  Athenians.  Already 
those  who  surrounded  his  persoa  saluted  him 
as  conqueror,  and  adorned  him  with  the  crown 
of  victory;  when  it  was  told,  that  the  The- 
bans had  broke  and  totally  routed  the  Orcho- 
menians,  and  were  advancing  to  -seize  the  bag- 
gage. Agesilaus,  by  a rapid  evolution,  prepared 
to  intercept  them,  in  order  to  frustrate  this  de- 
sign. The  Thebans  perceived  this  movement, 
wheeled  about,  and  marched  in  an  opposite  di- 
rection, that  they  might  join,  and  rally  their 
allies,  who  fled  towards  the  mountains  of  He- 
licon. In  the  rencounter  which  followed  Xeno- 
phon is  disposed  to  admire  rather  the  valour, 
than  the  prudence,  of  the  Spartan  king.  In- 
stead of  allowing  the  Thebans  to  pass,  that  he 
might  attack  their  rear  and  flanks,  he  boldly 
opposed  their  progress,  and  assailed  their  front. 
The  shock  was  terrible ; their  shields  meeting, 
clashed  ; they  fought,  slew,  and  were  slain. 
No  voice  was  heard,  yet  none  was  silent ; the 
field  resounded  with  the  noise  of  rage  and  bat- 
tle :7  and  this  was  the  most  desperate  and 
bloody  scene  of  an  action,  itself  the  most  des- 
perate and  bloody  of  any  in  that  age.  At 
length,  the  firmness  of  the  Thebans  effected 
their  long-attempted  passage  to  Helicon;  but 
could  not  encourage  their  allies  to  renew  the 
engagement.  The  Spartans  thus  remained 
masters  of  the  field,  the  sight  of  which  seems 
to  have  deeply  affected  a spectator  whose  mind 


battles,  as  appears  from  the  text.  Other  writers  say,  that 
the  Lacedannonian  empire,  which  the  Greeks  speak  of  as  sy- 
nonymous with  the  command  of  the  sea,  lasted  thirty  years, 
reckoning  from  the  battle  of  xEgos-Potamos  to  the  defeat 
at  Leuotra.  But  this  number  again  is  too  small  for  the  in- 
terval between  those  events;  a remarkable  proof  of  the 
carelessness  of  Greek  writers  in  matters  of  chronology. 
See  Isocrat.  de  Pace,  ct  Casaub.  ad  Polyb.  vol.  iii.  p.  97 — 
99.  edit.  Gronov. 

7 K*i  tegxvyt i [/.tv  ou^syKiss  mtg jji>f  nv  /uiv  evSs  <rcy^‘  Qxvq 

Si  Tl;  TOI06UT1),  0 i 96V  0gyt\  TC  XXI  /UStJJIl  TTCCBoCTyO  IT1  OtV . 

Xenopb.  Agesilaus,  c.  xii.  Such  passages,  inimitable  in 
any  other  language,  show  the  superiority  of  the  Greek. 


303 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


was  habituated  to  such  objects  of  horror.  It 
was  covered  with  steel  and  blood,  with  the 
bodies  of  friends  and  foes  heaped  promiscu- 
ously together,  with  transfixed  bucklers  and 
broken  lances,  some  strewed  on  the  ground, 
others  deeply  adhering  in  the  mortal  wounds 
which  they  had  inflicted,  and  others  still  grasp- 
ed by  the  cold  and  insensible  hands  of  the  com- 
batants who  had  lately  fought  with  such  im- 
petuous ardour.1 

Agesilaus  himself  had  received  several 
wounds  from  various  kinds  of  weapons ; yet 
did  he  restrain  his  resentment  in  the  moment 
of  victory.  When  informed  that  about  four- 
score of  the  enemy  had  taken  refuge  in  a neigh- 
bouring temple  of  Minerva,  he  religiously  re- 
spected the  right  of  sanctuary,  ordered  his 
soldiers  to  abstain  from  hurting  them,  and  even 
appointed  a body  of  horse  to  conduct  them  to 
a place  of  security.  The  next  day  was  em- 
ployed by  the  victors  in  erecting  a trophy  on 
the  scene  of  this  important  action  ; while  the 
enemy  acknowledged  their  defeat,  by  request- 
ing the  bodies  of  the  slain.  Notwithstanding 
his  fatigue  and  wounds,  Agesilaus  then  travel- 
led to  Phocis,  that  he  might  dedicate  the  tenth 
of  his  Asiatic  spoil  (amounting  to  above  a hun- 
dred talents)  in  the  temple  of  Delphian  Apollo. 
Having  returned  towards  the  Peloponnesus,  he 
disbanded  his  eastern  troops,  most  of  whom 
were  desirous  to  revisit  their  respective  cities  ; 
his  Peloponnesian,  and  even  Lacedaemonian 
forces  inclined  also  to  return  home,  that  they 
might  reap  the  fruits  of  harvest  ;2  and  the  ge- 
neral, probably  to  avoid  a journey  painful  to 
his  wounds,  sailed  to  Sparta,  and  joined  in  the 
celebration  of  the  Hyacinthian  festival. 

The  sea-fight  of  Cnidus,  and  the 

^ J,'  battle  of  Coronaea,  were  the  most 
A C important  and  decisive  actions  in 

the  Boeotian  or  Corinthian  war. 


Olymp. 
xcviii.  2. 
A.  C.381: 


which  lasted  eight  years.  The  con- 
tending republics  seem  at  once  to 
have  putforth  their  strength ; and  af- 
terwards to  have  retained  their  resentment  when 
they  had  lost  the  power  of  gratifying  it.  Petty 
hostilities  indeed  were  carried  on  by  mutual 
inroads,  and  ravages  in  the  spring  and  autumn ; 
the  Lacedaemonians  issuing  from  Sicyon,  and 
the  ’Thebans  from  Corinth.  The  inhabitants 
of  the  latter  city  had  eagerly  promoted  the  al- 
liance against  Sparta ; but  when  their  country 
was  made  the  seat  of  war,  they  began  to  repent 
of  this  rash  measure.  The  noble  and  wealthy 
part  of  the  community,  who  had  most  to  fear, 
as  they  had  most  to  lose,  talked  of  a separate 
peace  ; and  as  they  were  abetted  by  a majority 
of  the  people,  their  dependents  or  clients,  they 
intended  to  summon  an  assembly  which  might 
confirm  this  laudable  resolution.  But  the  par- 
tisans of  Timolaus  and  Polyanthes,  who,  though 
the  mercenaries  of  a Barbarian  slave,  were  the 
patrons  of  Corinthian  liberty,  anticipated  a de- 
sign so  unfavourable  to  their  interests,  by  com- 
mitting one  of  the  most  horrid  massacres  re- 
corded in  history.  They  chose  the  Eucleian 


[Chap. 

festival,3  a circumstance  which  seemed  to  black 
en  the  atrocity  of  a crime  which  nothing  could 
aggravate.  Many  of  the  citizens  were  then  en- 
joying themselves  in  the  market-place,  or  as- 
sembled at  the  dramatic  entertainments.  The 
assault  was  rapid  and  general.  The  Corinthians 
were  assassinated  in  the  circles  of  conversation, 
some  in  the  public  walks,  most  in  the  theatre ; 
the  judges  on  the  bench,  the  priests  at  the  altar: 
nor  did  those  monsters  cease  from  destroying, 
till  they  had  cut  off  whoever  they  deemed  most 
willing,  or  most  able  to  oppose  their  measures. 
The  great  body  of  the  people,  who  perceived 
that  even  the  temples,  and  adored  images  of 
the  gods  (whose  knees  they  grasped,)  afforded 
not  any  protection  to  the  victims  of  this  impious 
fury,  prepared  to  fly  from  their  country ; when 
they  were  restrained,  first,  by  the  lamentable 
cries  of  their  wives  and  children,  and  then  by 
the  declaration  of  the  assassins,  that  they  in- 
tended nothing  farther  than  to  deliver  the  city 
from  traitors,  the  partisans  of  Sparta  and  slavery. 
This  abominable  massacre  infected  Corinth  with 
the  plague  of  sedition,  which  silently  lurked, 
or  openly  raged,  in  that  unfortunate  republic, 
during  the  six  following  years.  The  Spartans 
and  Argives  assisted  their  respective  factions ; 
Corinth  was  alternately  subject  to  the  one  and 
the  other,  but  always  to  a foreign  power  ; and 
of  the  two  Corinthian  harbours,  which  were 
considered  as  an  important  part  of  the  capital, 
the  Lechaeum  was  long  garrisoned  by  the  Spar- 
tans, while  the  Cenchreae  remained  in  posses 
sion  of  the  Argives. 

After  the  battles  of  Cnidus  and  Coronaea, 
there  was  not  any  general  engagement  by  land 
or  sea ; and  it  is  wrnrthy  of  observation,  that  the 
partial  actions,  which  happened  on  either  ele- 
ment, generally  followed  the  bias  of  those  im- 
portant victories.  Success  for  the  most  part 
attended  the  sailors  of  Athens,  and  the  soldiers 
of  Sparta ; though  the  naval  exploits  of  Teleutias, 
the  kinsman  of  Agesilaus,  who  surprised  the 
Piraeus  with  twelve  galleys,  took  many  mer- 
chantmen, destroyed  several  ships  of  war,  and 
scoured  the  coast  of  Attica,  formed  an  exception 
extremely  honourable  to  that  commander ; and 
the  military  advantages  of  Iphicrates  the  Athe- 
nian, though  unimportant  in  their  consequences, 
announced  those  great  talents  for  war,  which 
afterwards  rendered  him  so  illustrious.  But,  in 
general,  Agesilaus  and  the  Spartans  maintained 
their  superiority  in  the  field ; while  Conon, 
Thrasybulus,  and  Chabrias,  proved  successful 
against  Thimbron,  Anaxibius,  and  the  other 
naval  commanders  of  the  enemy.4 

In  the  actual  state  of  Greece,  the  respective 
successes  of  the  contending  powers  wrere  not  ac- 
companied by  proportional  advantages.  The 
Lacedaimonians  derived  not  any  solid  or  perma- 
nent benefit  from  their  victory  at  Coronaea, 
unless  wre  account  as  such  the  gratification  of 
their  revenge,  in  ravaging  without  resistance 
the  Argive  and  Boeotian  territory  ; but  their 
defeat  at  Cnidus  deprived  them  in  one  day  of 
the  fruit  of  many  laborious  campaigns,  since, 


3 Xenophon,  with  the  superstitious  insensibility  of  his 
age,  dwells  on  the  enormous  impiety  of  this  choice. 

4 Diodor.  1.  xiv.  ad  Olym.  xcvi.  4.  and  Xenoph.  Hellen. 
L iv.  p.  5. 


1 Xenoph.  Agesil.  c.  xii. 

2 The  solar  eclipse,  mentioned  above  in  the  text,  fixes 
be  battle  of  Coronaea  to  the  fourteenth  of  August. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


xxvm.] 


with  the  assistance  of  a superior  naval  force, 
and  with  the  command  of  the  Persian  treasury, 
Conon  found  little  difficulty  in  detaching  for 
ever  from  their  dominion  the  whole  western 
coast  of  Lesser  Asia.  This  enterprise  must 
have  been  effected  with  uncommon  rapidity, 
and,  unless  the  Persian  fleet  kept  the  sea  in  the 
middle  of  winter  (which  is  not  at  all  probable,) 
could  only  employ  about  three  months.  The 
measures  taken  by  the  Spartans,  either  to  pre- 
serve or  to  recover  their  important  possessions 
in  the  East,  have  scarcely  deserved  the  notice  of 
history,  if  we  except  their  resistance  at  Abydus, 
a place  less  famous  for  this  memorable  defence, 
(such  is  the  love  of  fiction,  and  the  contempt  of 
truth  !)  than  for  the  fabulous  amours  of  Hero 
and  Leander.  Dercyllidas  had  obtained  the 
government  of  this  strong  and  populous  town, 
as  the  reward  of  his  military  services.  Instead 
of  imitating  the  pusillanimity  of  the  neighbour- 
ing governors,  many  of  whom,  alarmed  by  the 
disaster  at  Cnidus,  fled  in  precipitation  from  the 
places  entrusted  to  their  command,  Dercyllidas 
assembled  the  Abydenians  ; assured  them  that 
one  naval  defeat  had  not  ruined  the  power  of 
Sparta,5  who  even  before  she  had  attained  the 
sovereignty  of  the  sea,  now  unfortunately  lost, 
was  able  to  reward  her  benefactors,  and  to 
punish  her  enemies.  “ The  moment  of  adversity 
furnished  an  occasion  to  display  their  inviolable 
attachment  to  the  republic;  and  it  would  be 
glorious  for  them  alone,  of  all  the  inhabitants 
of  the  Asiatic  coast,  to  brave  the  power  of 
Persia.”  Having  confirmed  the  courage  of  the 
Abydenians,  he  sailed  to  the  town  of  Sestos, 
across  the  most  frequented  and  narrowest  pas- 
sage of  the  Hellespont.  Sestos  was  the  prin- 
cipal place  of  the  Thracian  Chersonesus,  the 
inhabitants  of  which  owed  their  protection  and 
safety  to  the  useful  labours  of  Dercyllidas;6  and 
this  claim  of  merit  enabled  him  to  secure  their 
allegiance.  The  fidelity  of  these  towns,  amidst 
the  general  defection  of  the  coast  of  Europe 
and  of  Asia,  prevented  the  inconveniences  and 
hardships  to  which  the  expelled  Spartans,  who 
had  been  employed  in  the  garrisons  of  those 
parts,  must  have  been  otherwise  exposed  ; and 
delivered  them  from  the  necessity  of  under- 
taking a winter’s  journey  to  the  Peloponnesus, 
through  the  territories  of  many  hostile  repub- 
lics. The  unfortunate  governors  and  garrisons, 
who  had  fled,  or  who  had  been  driven  from 
the  places  of  their  respective  command,  took 
refuge  within  the  friendly  walls  of  Sestos  and 
Abydus.  Their  numbers  increased  the  security 
of  those  cities,  and  enabled  Dercyllidas,  who 
excelled  in  the  art  of  fortification,  to  put  them 
in  such  a posture  of  defence  as  baffled  the  at- 
tempts of  Conon  and  Pharnabazus. 

But  the  success  of  these  commanders  was  still 
sufficiently  complete  ; and  the  importance  of 
their  services  excited  the  warmest  gratitude  in 
the  breast  of  Artaxerxes.  The  merit  of  the 


5 The  remarkable  expression  of  Xenophon  shows  the  im- 
portance of  this  defeat  in  the  general  estimation  of  the 
Abydenians,  and  of  Dercyllidas  himself,  though  he  would 
fain  dissemble  it.  Eo-n  Js  evx  out® j «%ov,  «>  ts  vxvhxxix 
iK(»Tn6tf/utv,  ovStv  in  urniv.  “The  matter  stands 
not  thus,  that  because  we  have  been  worsted  in  the  sea  fight, 
we  are  therefore  nothing.” 

6 See  above,  p.  298. 


Olymp. 
xcvi.  4. 

A.  C.  393. 


satrap  was  acknowledged  soon  afterwards,  by 
his  obtaining  in  marriage  the  daughter  of  the 
great  king. 

The  patriotic  Conon  neither  de- 
sired nor  received  any  personal  re- 
ward ; but  employed  his  favour  with 
Artaxerxes  to  retrieve  the  affairs 
of  Athens,  the  interest  of  which  formed  the 
honourable  motive  that  had  alone  engaged, 
and  that  still  retained  him,  in  the  Persian  ser- 
vice. He  inflamed  the  resentment  which  both 
Pharnabazus  and  his  master  had  justly  conceiv- 
ed against  Sparta,  and  encouraged  them,  early 
in  the  spring,  to  send  their  victorious  arma- 
ment towards  Greece,  to  retaliate  the  ravages 
committed  in  the  East  by  the  arms  of  Agesilaus. 
But  he  instructed  them,  that  if  they  would 
render  their  vengeance  complete,  and  humble 
for  ever  the  Spartan  pride,  they  must  raise  the 
fallen  rival  of  that  imperious  republic.  The  dis- 
bursement of  a sum  of  money,  which  would  be 
scarcely  felt  by  the  treasury  of  Persia,  might 
suffice  to  rebuild  the  walls  and  harbours  of 
Athens;  a measure  by  which  they  would  inflict 
the  deepest  wound  on  the  power,  as  well  as  on 
the  pride,  of  their  ambitious  enemy.  The  pro- 
posal was  heard  with  approbation;  the  expense 
was  liberally  supplied ; the  Persian  fleet  set  sail, 
reduced  the  Cyclades  and  Cythera,  ravaged  the 
coast  of  Laconia,  and,  after  performing  in  de- 
tached squadrons  whatever  seemed  most  useful 
for  the  Persian  service,  assembled  in  the  long- 
deserted  harbours  of  the  Phalerus,  Munichia, 
and  Piraeus.  There,  the  important  task  of  re- 
storing the  ancient  ornaments  and  defence  of 
the  city  of  Minerva,  was  begun,  carried  on,  and 
accomplished,  with  extraordinary  diligence. 
The  ready  service  of  the  crews  belonging  to  the 
numerous  fleet,  assisted  the  industry  of  merce- 
nary workmen,  whom  the  allurement  of  gain 
had  brought  from  every  quarter  of  Greece ; and 
the  labour  of  both  was  seconded  and  encour- 
aged by  the  voluntary  and  eager  exertions  of 
the  Boeotians  and  Argives ; but,  above  all,  by 
the  zeal  of  the  Athenians  themselves,  who 
justly  regarded  their  actual  employment  as 
the  second  foundation  of  their  once  glorious 
capital. 

The  work  was  completed  before 
the  return  of  spring ; and  the  morti- 
fying intelligence,  when  brought  to 
Sparta,  affected  the  magistrates  of 
that  republic  with  the  crudest  anxiety.  They 
were  ready  to  abandon  for  ever  the  prospect 
of  recovering  their  lost  dominion  in  the  East ; 
they  were  desirous  to  obtain  an  accommodation 
with  Artaxerxes  on  the  most  humiliating  terms ; 
they  were  willing  to  deprive  themselves  of 
the  only  advantage  yet  in  their  power,  to  fore- 
go even  the  pleasure  of  revenge,  and  to  abstain 
from  ravaging  the  territories  of  their  neighbours 
and  enemies,  provided  only  the  great  king  and 
his  satraps  would  grant  them  a condition,  with 
which  it  was  easy  to  comply,  since  it  required 
nothing  but  that  they  should  cease  to  lavish 
their  own  money  in  raising  the  dangerous 
power  of  the  Athenians.  For  effecting  this 
purpose,  they  sent  successive  embassies  to  the 
court  of  Persia,  as  well  as  to  Teribazus,  who 
had  lately  succeeded  Tithraustes  in  the  govern- 


Olymp. 
xcvii.  1. 
A.  C.  392. 


310 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


ment  of  the  southern  provinces.  They  indus- 
triously neglected  Pharnabazus,  from  whom 
they  could  not  reasonably  expect  any  favour,  as 
the  hostilities  of  Agesilaus  had  peculiarly  ex- 
cited the  resentment  of  that  warlike  satrap. 

Among  the  ministers  employed  by  Sparta,  in 
this  negotiation,  was  Antalcidas,  a man  whose 
prior  history  is  little  known.  He  appears  to 
have  had  an  intercourse  of  hospitality  with 
several  noble  Persians;1  it  is  not  improbable 
that  he  had  served  under  the  standard  of  Cyrus, 
and  perhaps  continued  in  the  East  during  the 
successive  expeditions  of  Thimbron,  Dercylli- 
das,  and  Agesilaus.  If  we  except  the  artful  and 
daring  Lysander,  Sparta  never  employed  a 
more  proper  agent  to  treat  with  the  Barbarians. 
Antalcidas  was  bold,  eloquent,  subtle,  comply- 
ing, a master  in  all  the  arts  of  insinuation  and 
address,  and  equally  well  qualified,  by  his  abili- 
ties and  vices,  to  execute  an  insidious  commis- 
sion at  a corrupt  court.  The  revered  institu- 
tions of  his  country  were  the  objects  of  real  or 
well-feigned  contempt;  he  derided  the  frugal 
self-denying  maxims  of  the  divine  Lycurgus  ; 
but  peculiarly  delighted  the  voluptuous,  cow- 
ardly, and  treacherous  satraps  and  courtiers, 
when  he  directed  the  poisoned  shafts  of  his 
ridicule  against  the  manly  firmness,  the  probity, 
and  the  patriotism  of  Leonidas  and  Callicra- 
tidas,  names  equally  glorious  to  Sparta  and 
dishonourable  to  Persia. 

The  success  of  such  a minister,  almost  ensur- 
ed by  his  own  character  and  talents,  was  has- 
tened by  the  imprudent  ambition  of  Conon  and 
the  Athenians,  too  soon  and  too  fatally  intoxi- 
cated by  the  deceitful  gifts  of  prosperity.  When 
this  illustrious  commander  co-operated  with 
Pharnabazus  in  expelling  the  Lacedaemonians 
from  the  East,  he  earnestly  exhorted  the  satrap 
to  confirm  the  Asiatic  Greeks  in  the  enjoyment 
of  their  ancient  liberties,  lest  the  fear  of  op- 
pression might  suggest  the  means  of  resistance, 
and  oblige  them  to  form  a general  alliance  for 
their  own  defence,  which  might  prove  favoura- 
ble to  Artaxerxes.  In  this  plausible  advice  the 
patriotic  Athenian  had  a farther  view  than  it 
was  possible  for  the  Persian  at  that  time  to  dis- 
cover. After  rebuilding  the  walls  and  harbours 
of  Athens,  he  requested  Pharnabazus,  who  pre- 
pared to  return  to  his  province,  that  he  might  be 
allowed,  for  a few  months  longer,  to  employ  a 
squadron  of  Persian  ships,  in  conjunction  with 
his  own,  to  infest  the  territories  of  Sparta  and 
her  allies.  The  satrap,  naturally  unsuspicious, 
and  perhaps  betrayed  by  his  resentment,  readily 
granted  this  demand.  But  Conon,  unmindful 
ofiiis  promised  operations  against  the  common 
enemy,  thought  only  of  promoting  the  interest 
of  his  republic.  He  sailed  to  the  Cyclades,  to 
Chios,  to  Lesbos,  and  even  to  the  coast  of  Eolis 
and  Ionia,  displayed  the  strength  of  his  arma- 
ment, described  the  flourishing  fortune  of 
Athens,  and  endeavoured  to  persuade  or  to 
compel  the  astonished  Asiatics  and  islanders  to 
acknowledge  the  just  authority  of  their  ancient 
metropolis  or  sovereign,  who  having  risen  more 
splendid  from  her  ruins,  required  only  the  at- 
tachment of  her  former  allies  and  subjects,  to 


[Chap. 

resume  her  wonted  power,  and  recover  her 
hereditary  renown. 

The  success  of  this  extraordinary  enterprise 
is  not  particularly  described,  nor  is  the  omission 
material,  since  this  last  expedition  of  Conon  had 
not  any  other  permanent  effect  but  that  of  ruin- 
ing himself.  His  unjustifiable  ambition  fur- 
nished powerful  weapons  to  the  dexterity  of 
Antalcidas,  who  represented  him  as  guilty  of 
the  most  unexampled  audacity,  aggravated  by 
the  most  perfidious  ingratitude,  in  attempting 
to  alienate  and  to  conquer  the  king’s  dominions, 
even  by  the  assistance  of  the  king’s  forces,  to 
which  both  his  country  and  himself  owed  so 
many  recent  and  signal  benefits.  The  accusa- 
tion was  probably  rendered  more  welcome  to 
Teribazus,  by  the  jealousy  which  he  naturally 
entertained  of  the  neighbouring  satrap,  the 
friend  of  Conon,  and  his  own  rival.  But  after 
the  last  unwarrantable  transaction  of  the  Athe- 
nian, which  he  could  defend  only  by  the  obso- 
lete Greek  maxim,  that  every  thing  is  lawful 
to  a man  in  the  service  of  his  country,  even  his 
late  colleague  Pharnabazus  seems  to  have  with- 
drawn from  him  the  protection  and  friendship 
by  which  he  had  been  so  long  distinguished,  so 
that  the  influence  of  that  powerful  satrap  form- 
ed not  any  opposition  to  the  negotiations  and 
intrigues  of  Antalcidas.  The  Athenians,  how- 
ever, sent  Dion,  Hermogenes,  with  other  emis- 
saries, to  watch  and  counteract  his  measures. 
Conon  was  named  at  the  head  of  this  deputa- 
tion; and  as  he  knew  not  the  full  extent  of 
Teribazus’s  animosity,  inflamed  and  exaspe- 
rated by  the  address  of  Antalcidas,  he  expected 
that  the  personal  presence  of  a man,  who  had 
formerly  served  the  Persians  with  fidelity  and 
success,  might  obtain  an  easy  pardon  from  the 
satrap,  and  perhaps  prove  useful  to  the  affairs 
of  Athens.  The  Boeotians  and  Argives  like- 
wise sent  their  ambassadors,  who  had  instruc- 
tions to  act  in  concert  with  Conon  and  his  col- 
leagues. But  their  overtures  were  little  regard- 
ed, while  those  of  Antalcidas  met  with  warm 
approbation  from  Teribazus. 

The  Lacedaemonian  ambassador  declared 
that  he  had  been  commanded  to  offer  such 
terms  of  peace  as  suited  equally  the  dignity  and 
the  interest  of  the  great  king.  u The  Spartans 
resigned  all  pretensions  to  the  Greek  cities  in 
Asia,  which  they  acknowledged  to  be  depen- 
dencies of  the  Persian  empire.  Why  should  Ar- 
taxerxes then  continue  to  lavish  his  treasures 
in  vain  ? since  the  Spartans  not  only  ceded  to 
him  the  immediate  object  of  dispute,  but  ear- 
nestly desired  to  promote  the  future  prosperity 
of  his  dominions,  by  settling  the  affairs  of 
Greece,  as  best  answered  his  convenience.  For 
this  purpose  they  were  ready  to  declare  all  the 
cities  and  islands,  small  and  great,  totally  inde- 
pendent of  each  other;  in  consequence  of  which 
there  would  not  be  any  republic  sufficiently 
powerful  thenceforth  to  disturb  the  tranquillity 
of  Persia.”  These  conditions,  wThich  the  most 
insolent  minister  of  the  great  king  might  him- 
self have  dictated,  were  too  advantageous  not 
to  be  liable  to  suspicion.  But  Teribazus  was 
so  blinded  by  partiality  for  the  Spartan  minis- 
ter, that  he  seems  not  to  have  entertained  tho 
smallest  doubt  of  his  sincerity.  The  terms  of 


1 Xenoph  Hellen. 


XXVIII.] 

peace  were  transmitted  to  the  court  of  Susa, 
that  they  might  be  approved  and  ratified  by 
Artaxerxes.  The  subtlety  of  Antalcidas  was 
rewarded  by  a considerable  sum  of  money; 
and  the  patriotism  of  Conon  (a  patriotism 
which  had  carried  him  beyond  the  bounds  of 
justice  and  propriety)  was  punished  by  imme- 
diate death,2  or  by  an  ignominous  confinement.3 
His  fate  is  variously  related ; but  his  actions 
justly  rank  him  with  the  first  of  Grecian  names; 
and  the  fame  of  an  illustrious  father  was  support- 
ed and  rivalled  by  that  of  his  son  Timotheus.4 

It  might  have  been  expected  that  a plan  of 
accommodation,  so  advantageous  and  honoura- 
ble for  Persia,  should  have  been  readily  accept- 
ed  by  Artaxerxes.  But  the  iiego- 

^ *2  tiation  languished  for  several  years, 
A^C  390  Partly  on  account'  °f  the  temporary 
disgrace  of  Teribazus,  who  was  suc- 
ceeded by  Struthas ; a man  who,  moved  by  some 
unknown  motive,  warmly  espoused  the  interest 
of  the  Athenians;  and  partly  by  the  powerful 
solicitations  and  remonstrances  of  the  Boeotian 
and  Argive  ambassadors,  who  accused  the  since- 
rity, and  unveiled  the  latent  ambition  of  Sparta. 

Mean  while  the  war  was  carried  on  with  un- 
remitting activity.  The  Lacedaemonians  and 
their  allies  sallied  from  their  strong  garrisons  in 
Sicyon  and  the  Lechaeum,  to  destroy  the  har- 
vests and  the  villages  of  their  Peloponnesian 
enemies.  The  Boeotians  and  Argives  retaliated 
these  injuries  by  several  hostile  incursions  into 
the  territories  of  Sparta;  while* the  Athenians, 
as  if  they  had  again  attained  the  command  of 
the  sea,  bent  the  whole  vigour  of  their  repub- 
lic towards  an  element  long  propitious  to  their 
ancestors. 

The  recent  splendour  of  Conon  had  eclipsed 
the  ancient  and  well-merited  renown  of  Thra- 
sybulus,  whose  extraordinary  abilities,  and  more 
extraordinary  good  fortune,  had  twice  rescued 
his  country  from  the  yoke  of  tyrants.  But  after 
the  lamented  death  or  <^aptivity  of  the  former, 
the  Athenian  fleet,  amounting  to  forty  sail,  was 
entrusted  to  Thrasybulus;  who,  having  scoured 
the  jEgcan  sea,  sailed  to  the  Hellespont,  and 
persuaded  or  compelled  the  inhabitants  of  By- 
zantium, and  several  other  Thracian  cities,  to 
abolish  their  aristocratic  government,  and  to 
accept  the  alliance  of  Athens.  His  activity  was 
next  directed  against  the  isle  of  Lesbos,  in 
which  the  Lacedaemonian  interest  was  still  sup- 
ported by  a considerable  body  of  troops.  Hav- 
ing landed  his  men,  he  joined  battle  with  the 
enemy  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Methymna, 
and  obtained  a complete  victory,  after  killing 
with  his  own  hand  Therimachus,  the  Spartan 
governor  and  general.  The  principal  cities  of 
the  island  acknowledged  the  Athenian  power, 
and  seasonably  reinforced  the  fleet,  by  the  ter- 
ror of  which  they  had  been  subdued.  Encou- 
raged by  this  success,  Thrasybulus  sailed  to- 
ward Rhodes,  in  order  to  assist  the  democratic 
faction,  who  equally  contended  for  the  interest 
of  Athens  and  their  own. 

Before  proceeding,  however,  to  that  impor- 
tant island,  he  determined  to  multiply  the  re- 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


311 


2 Tsoc.  Panegyr.  3 Xcnoph.  Gr.  Hist.  1.  iv. 

4  Dinarch.  adv.  Demosth.  p.  94.  et  Corn.  Ncpos,  in  Vit. 
Conon,  et  Timotb. 


sources,  and  to  confirm  the  affections,  of  the 
fleet.  For  this  purpose  he  raised  considerable 
supplies  of  whatever  seemed  most  necessary 
for  his  expedition  from  the  maritime  towns  of 
Asia,  and  at  length  entered  the  mouth  of  the 
Eurymedon  (the  glorious  scene  of  Cymon’s 
victories)  and  levied  a heavy  contribution  on 
Aspendus,  the  principal  sea-port  and  capital  of 
Pamphylia.  But  here  his  good  fortune  ended.5 
The  patient  timidity  of  the  Barbarians  had  en- 
dured the  public  depredation,  to  which  they 
were  long  accustomed;  but  even  their  servility 
could  not  brook  the  private  rapacity  and  in- 
tolerable exactions  of  the  sailors  and  troops, 
which  Vere  imputed  (not  perhaps  without  rea- 
son) to  the  unrelenting  avarice  of  the  comman- 
der. The  resentment  of  the  Pamphylians  over- 
came their  cowardice.  They  attacked  the  Gre- 
cian tents  in  the  night,  and  surprised  the  secu- 
rity of  Thrasybulus,  who  thus  fell  a sacrifice 
to  a very  unjustifiable  defect,  which,  if  we  may 
believe  a contemporary  writer,  greatly  debased 
the  dignity  of  his  otherwise  illustrious  character.6 

The  unjust  treatment  of  Aspen- 

■7..  L*  dus,  which  had  been  retorted  by 
xcvn  4 i*i  * 

A C*  389  SUCk  S1£na*  revenge>  would  never 
perhaps  have  reached  the  ears  of 
Artaxerxes,  had  not  his  voluptuous  indolence 
been  beset  by  the  active  importunity  of  Antal- 
cidas. This  vigilant  and  artful  minister  let 
slip  no  opportunity  to  rouse  the  jealousy  of  the 
great  king  against  the  Athenians,  his  hereditary 
foes,  and  to  obliterate  his  resentment  against 
the  Spartans,  his  recent  but  less  natural  ene- 
mies. The  severe  exactions  from  Pamphylia, 
a province  acknowledging  his  authority,  aftord- 
ded  a powerful  topic  of  persuasion,  which  the 
Spartan  ambassador  could  not  fail  to  employ ; 
but  it  is  uncertain  whether  even  this  important 
argument  would  have  conquered  the  reluctance 
of  the  Persian  monarch  to  concur  with  the  mea- 
sures of  a people,  who  had  enabled  the  rebel- 
lious Cyrus  to  dispute  his  throne,  and  who  had 
recently  invaded  and  plundered,  not  a maritime 
city,  but  the  interior  provinces  of  the  empire. 
His  interest  and  inclination  were  combated  by 
his  resentment  and  his  pride ; when  his  fluctuat- 
ing irresolution  was  at  length  decided  by  the 
Athenians,  whose  mad  imprudence  crowned 
the  triumph  of  Antalcidas. 

The  signal  victories  of  Conon  and  Thrasybu- 
lus, and  the*  rising  fortune  of  Athens,  encour- 
aged Evagoras  king  of  Salamis,  who  had  re- 
ceived some  late  cause  of  disgust,  to  execute 
his  long-meditated  design  of  revolting  from 
Persia.  Egypt  was  actually  in  rebellion;  Arta- 
xerxes had  undertaken  a war  against  the  bar- 
barous Carduchians,7  who  were  by  no  means  a 


5 Corn.  Ncp.  in  Vit.  Thrasybul. 

6 Lysias  against  Ergocles.  This  Ergocles  was  the  friend 
and  confidant  of  Thrasybulus.  Ho  had  assisted  him  in 
expelling  the  thirty  tyrants,  and  had  recently  accompanied 
him  in  his  expedition  to  the  coast  of  Thrace,  mentioned  in 
the  text.  The  military  exploits  of  Thrasybulus  in  Thrace 
were  highly  honourable  and  meritorious;  but  his  private 
behaviour  was  the  reverse.  He  stuck  at  nothing  by  which 
he  could  enrich  himself  or  his  dependants.  Ergocles  was 
condemned  to  death  for  the  share  which  he  had  taken  in 
this  unjustifiable  peculation  and  rapacity.  Lysias’s  Ora- 
tions against  Ergocles  and  Philocrates.  See  likewise  Aris- 
tophanes Ecclesiaz.  v.  356.  and  Schol.  ad  locum. 

7 These  and  the  following  circumstances  concerning  the 


312 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


contemptible  enemy.  These  were  very  favoura- 
ble circumstances ; but  the  Persian  fleet,  which, 
after  performing  the  service  for  which  it  had 
been  equipped,  had  continued  to  lie  inactive  in 
the  Phoenician  and  Cilician  harbours,  wTas  ready 
to  be  employed  in  any  new  enterprise.  The 
skilful  and  experienced  bravery  of  the  king  of 
Salamis,  seconded  by  the  youthful  ardour  of 
his  son  Protagoras,  obtained  an  easy  victory 
over  the  first  squadrons  that  were  sent  to  in- 
vade his  island.  But  there  was  reason  to  dread 
the  arrival  of  a far  superior  force.  In  this  dan- 
ger Evagoras  requested,  and  obtained,  the  as- 
sistance of  the  Athenians;  who  not  only  en- 
joyed peace  with  Persia,  but  whose  ambassa- 
dors wrere  endeavouring  to  prevent  that  court 
from  making  peace  with  their  enemies. 

This  extraordinary  measure  of  a 
xcviii  1 Pe°plei  ln  preferring  their  gratitude 
A C *388  le*r  interest5  a gratitude  which 
’ * ‘ they  might  have  foreseen  to  be  use- 

less to  him  whom  they  meant  to  oblige,  and  per- 
nicious to  the  most  important  interests  of  their 
republic,  finally  determined  Artaxerxes  to  es- 
pouse the  cause  of  the  Spartans;  and  to  dictate 
the  terms  of  a general  peace,  almost  in  the 
same  wrords  which  had  been  proposed  by  An- 
talcides : “ That  the  Greek  cities  in  Asia,  with 
the  island  of  Cyprus  and  the  Peninsula  of  Cla- 
zomene,  should  be  subject  to  Persia;  Athens 
should  be  allowed  to  retain  her  immemorial 
jurisdiction  in  the  isles  of  Lemnos,  Imbros,  and 
Scyros;  but  all  the  other  republics,  small  and 
great,  should  enjoy  the  independent  govern- 
ment of  their  own  hereditary  jaws.  Whatever 
people  rejected  these  conditions,  so  evidently 
calculated  for  preserving  the  public  tranquillity, 
must  expect  the  utmost  indignation  of  the  great 
king,  who,  in  conjunction  with  the  republic  of 
Sparta,  would  make  war,  on  their  perverse  and 
dangerous  obstinacy,  by  sea  and  land,  with 
ships  and  money.”* 1 

fv,  Teribazus  and  Antalcidas  return- 

xcvhi^2  e<*  ^rom  ^astl  charged  with  the 
A C 387  definitive  resolutions,  or  rather  the 
' haughty  mandate  of  Artaxerxes, 
which  had  been  confirmed  by  the  unalterable 
sanction  of  the  royal  signet.  There  was  reason, 
however,  to  apprehend  that  Thebes,  Athens, 
and  Argos,  might  still  reject  the  terms  of  a 
peace  proposed  by  their  avowed  enemies,  per- 
nicious to  their  particular  and  immediate  in- 
terests, and  equally  disadvantageous  and  disho- 
nourable to  the  whole  Grecian  name.  The  re- 
membrance of  the  glorious  confederacy,  for  de- 
fending the  Asiatic  colonies  against  the  oppres- 
sion of  Barbarians,  could  not  indeed  much 
influence  the  degenerate  councils  of  those  re- 
publics; but  the  Thebans  must  resign,  with 
reluctance,  their  real  or  pretended  authority 
over  the  inferior  cities  of  Bceotia;  the  Argives 
must  unwillingly  withdraw  their  garrison  from 
Corinth,  and  leave  that  important  capital  in  the 
power  of  the  aristocratic  or  Lacedaemonian  fac- 
tion; and  the  Athenians  must  abandon,  with 


war  of  Cyprus  are  scattered  through  Diodorus,  Isocrates’s 
Pane?yric  of  Athens,  and  the  Panegyric  of  Evagoras. 

1 The  last  words  are  literally  translated  from  Xenoph. 

p.  550.  See  likewise  Diodor.  1.  xiv.  c.  cx.  Plut.  Agesyl.  p. 

608 : and  Artaxerx.  p.  1022. 


[Chap. 

regret,  the  fruits  of  their  recent  victories,  and 
the  hopes  of  recovering  their  ancient  grandeur. 
The  opposition  of  these  states  had  been  fore- 
seen by  Antalcidas,  who  took  the  most  effectual 
measures  to  render  it  impotent.  By  the  assis- 
tance of  Persian  money  he  equipped  a fleet  of 
eighty  sail,  from  the  mercenary  sea-ports  of 
Greece  and  Asia,  from  the  intermediate  isles, 
and  even  from  the  coasts  of  Italy  and  Sicily. 
This  armament  was  independent  of  the  squa- 
drons with  which  Teribazus  prepared  to  attack 
the  isles  of  Cyprus,  if  the  presumption  of  Eva- 
goras, unassisted  and  alone,  should  dare  to 
provoke  his  hostility.  The  satrap  also  had  col- 
lected a very  considerable  army,  which  was 
ready  to  embark  for  Greece,  and  to  co-operate 
with  Agesilaus,  who  had  assembled  the  domestic 
troops  and  allies  of  Sparta  to  march,  at  the 
first  summons,  against  any  city  or  republic  that 
might  reject  the  peace  of  Antalcidas.2  These 
vigorous  preparations,  intimidating  the  weak- 
ness of  the  confederates,  compelled  them  into 
a reluctant  compliance  with  the  terms  of  the 
treaty.  The  Thebans  made  the  strongest  and 
most  obstinate  resistance;  but  their  pretensions 
were  finally  silenced  by  the  threats  of  the  Spar- 
tan king,  the  inveterate  enemy  of  their  republic. 
The  Boeotian  cities  v^ere  acknowledged  to  be 
independent,  and  admitted  as  parties  in  the 
peace.  The  Argives  retired  from  Corinth,  which, 
being  deserted  by  the  leaders  of  the  democratical 
faction,  became  a faithful  ally  to  Sparta.  The 
military  and  naval  operations  ceased,  tranquillity 
was  restored,  and  the  armies  and  fleets  wrere, 
on  both  sides,  disbanded  and  dissolved.3 

But  amidst  this  universal  and  most  obsequi- 
ous submission  to  the  court  of  Persia,  one  man 
avowed  his  discontent  and  prepared  to  main- 
tain his  opposition.  The  article  respecting  Cy- 
prus was  loudly  rejected  by  Evagoras,  who 
asserted  the  independence  of  his  native  island ; 
and,  wuth  a magnanimity  that  formed  a striking 
contrast  with  the  degenerate  and  disgraceful 
softness  of  his  Grecian  allies,  set  the  power  of 
Artaxerxes  at  defiahce.  Evagoras  trusted  to 
the  resources  of  his  own  vigorous  mind,  to  the 
superior  skill  of  his  seamen,  and  to  the  assist- 
ance of  Acoris  king  of  Egypt.  But  the  nu- 
merous squadrons  of  Teribazus  prevailed  over 
all  his  hopes.  He  was  discomfited  in  a naval 
engagement ; his  territories  were  invaded  and 
ravaged ; he  was  reduced  to  his  capital  Sala- 
mis ; and  even  Salamis  wTas  threatened  with  a 
siege.  His  resistance  had  already  exceeded 
what  his  strength  warranted,  or  what  his  dig- 
nity required.  His  enemies  were  incapable  of 
perseverance,  or  unwilling  to  drive  him  to  de- 
spair. He  resigned  his  numerous  and  recent 
Oivmn  conquests  in  Cyprus,  but  retained 
xcviii  4 possession  of  the  ancient  princi- 
A C 385  Teucer,  which  his  fortu- 

nate arms  had  recovered  from  an 
usurper  ; and  submitted,  without  dishonour,  to 
imitate  the  example  of  many  preceding  princes 
of  Salamis,  and  to  acknowledge  himself  the 
tributary  of  the  king  of  Persia.4 


2 Tuf  £t  AvToeXxiJou  ngtivr,;  xxXov/itvtis.  Xenoph. p.277 

3 /u iv  t*  &c.  Xenoph.  p.  551. 

4 Diodor.  1.  xv.  p.  462. 


XXIX.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


313 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Reflections  upon  the  Peace  of  Antalcidas — Ambitious  views  of  Sparta — State  of  Arcadia — Siege 
of  Mantincea — Olynthian  Confederacy — The  Spartans  make  War  on  Olynthus — Submission  of 
that  Republic — Pella  becomes  the  Capital  of  Macedon — Phcebidas  seizes  the  Theban  Citadel — 
The  Measure  approved  by  Agesilaus — Conspiracy  of  the  Theban  Exiles — The  Theban  Demo- 
cracy restored. 


* | ''HE  peace  of  Antalcidas  forms  an  important 
and  disgraceful  era  in  the  Grecian  history. 
The  valuable  colonies  in  Asia,  the  cause,  the 
object,  and  the  scene,  of  so  many  memorable 
wars,  were  resigned  and  abandoned  for  ever  to 
the  power  of  a Barbarian  master.  The  king 
of  Persia  dismembered  the  distant  dependen- 
cies, and  controlled  the  domestic  arrangements 
of  a people  who  had  given  law  to  his  ances- 
tors.6 Their  ancient  confederacies  were  dis- 
solved ; the  smaller  cities  were  loosened  from 
dependence  on  their  powerful  neighbours  ; all 
were  disunited  and  weakened  ; and  Greece  felt 
the  languor  of  peace  without  enjoying  the  bene- 
fits of  security. 

But  if  the  whole  Grecian  name  was  disho- 
noured by  accepting  this  ignominious  treaty, 
what  peculiar  infamy  must  belong  to  the  ma- 
gistrates of  Sparta,  by  whom  it  was  proposed 
and  promoted  ? What  motives  of  advantage 
could  balance  this  weight  of  disgrace  ? Or,  ra- 
ther, what  advantage  could  the  Spartans  derive 
from  such  ignoble  condescension  as  seemed  to- 
tally unworthy  of  their  ancient  power,  but  far 
more  unworthy  of  their  actual  renown  ? This 
question,  like  most  political  questions,  may  be 
best  answered  by  facts ; and  the  transactions 
which  both  preceded  and  followed  the  peace 
of  Antalcidas  clearly  discover  and  ascertain  the 
secret,  but  powerful,  causes  of  that  dishonoura- 
ble, and  seemingly  disadvantageous,  measure. 

The  ambition  of  making  conquests  in  the 
East,  which  it  now  appeared  impossible  to  re- 
tain, had  deprived  the  Lacedaemonians  of  an 
authority,  or  rather  dominion  in  Greece,  ac- 
quired by  the  success  of  the  Peloponnesian  war, 
and  which  they  might  have  reasonably  ex- 
pected to  preserve  and  to  confirm.  Not  only 
their  power,  but  their  safety,  was  threatened 
by  the  arms  of  a hostile  confederacy,  which  had 
been  formed  and  fomented  by  the  wealth  of 
Persia.  Athens,  their  rival,  their  superior,  their 
subject,  but  always  their  unrelenting  enemy, 
had  recovered  her  walls  and  fleet,  and  aspired 
to  command  the  sea.  Thebes  and  Argos  had 
become  sensible  of  their  natural  strength,  and 
disdained  to  acknowledge  the  pre-eminence,  or 
to  follow  the  standard,  of  any  foreign  republic. 
The  inferior  states  of  Peloponnesus  were  weary 
of  obeying  every  idle  summons  to  war,  from 
which  they  derived  not  any  advantage  but  that 
of  gratifying  the  ambition  of  their  Spartan 
masters.  The  valuable  colonies  in  Macedon 
and  Thrace,  and  particularly  the  rich  and  po- 
pulous cities  of  the  Chalcidic  region,  the  blood- 
less conquests  of  the  virtuous  Brasidas,  had 
forsaken  the  interest  of  Sparta,  when  Sparta 
forsook  the  interest  of  justice.  Scarcely  any 

6  See  the  Articles  of  the  Treaty  concluded  in  449  A.  C. 

p.  156. 

2 R 


vestige  appeared  of  the  memorable  trophies 
erected  in  a war  of  twenty-seven  years.  The 
eastern  provinces  (incomparably  the  most  im- 
portant of  all)  were  irrecoverable  lost;  and 
this  rapid  decline  of  power  had  happened  in 
the  course  of  ten  years,  and  had  been  chiefly 
occasioned  by  the  fatal  splendour  of  Agesilaus’s 
victories  in  Asia. 

About  a century  before,  and  almost  on  the 
same  scene,  the  Spartans  had  been  first  deprived 
of  their  hereditary  fame,  and  prescriptive  ho- 
nours.7 Almost  every  interference,  in  peace  or 
war,  with  the  Ionian  colonies,  had  hurt  the  in- 
terests of  their  republic.  They  naturally  began 
to  suspect,  therefore,  that  such  distant  expedi- 
tions suited  not  the  circumstances  of  Sparta, 
an  inland  city,  with  a fertile  territory,  but 
destitute  of  arts,  industry,  and  commerce  ; and 
whose  inhabitants,  having  little  genius  for  the 
sea,  were  naturally  unable  to  equip,  or  to  main- 
tain, such  a naval  force  as  might  command  the 
obedience  of  an  extensive  coast,  attached  by 
powerful  ties  to  their  Athenian  rivals.  The 
abandoning,  therefore,  of  what  they  could  not 
hope  to  regain,  or,  if  regained,  to  preserve, 
seemed  a very  prudent  and  salutary  measure  ; 
since,  in  return  for  this  imaginary  concession, 
they  received  many  real  and  important  advan- 
tages. They  wrere  appointed  to  superintend 
and  to  direct  the  execution  of  the  treaty ; and 
in  order  to  make  their  authority  effectual,  en- 
titled to  demand  the  assistance  of  Persian  mo- 
ney, with  which  they  might  easily  purchase 
Grecian  soldiers.  The  condition  requiring  the 
smaller  cities  to  be  declared  free  and  indepen- 
dent (although  the  dexterity  of  Antalcidas  had 
proposed  it  as  the  best  means  of  preventing  the 
future  invasion  of  Asia,)  was  peculiarly  bene- 
ficial to  the  Spartans.  It  represented  them  as 
the  patrons  of  universal  liberty,  and  restored 
them  that  honourable  reputation  which  they 
had  long  lost.  From  the  nature  of  the  condi- 
tion itself,  it  could  only  apply  to  such  places  as 
being  kept  in  a reluctant  subjection,  still  pos- 
sessed courage  to  vindicate  their  freedom.  In 
the  secondary  towns  of  Messenia  and  Laconia, 
the  stern  policy  of  Sparta  had  crushed  the 
hope,  and  almost  the  desire,  of  obtaining  this 
inestimable  benefit.  The  authority  of  other 
capitals  was  less  imperious  and  imposing ; the 
sovereign  and  subject  were  more  on  a footing 
of  equality  ; and  it  was  a maxim  in  Greece, 
“ That  men  are  disposed  to  reject  the  just  rights 
of  their  equals,  rather  than  to  revolt  against  the 
unlawful  tyranny  of  their  masters.8  But  Sparta 
expected  not  only  to  detach  the  inferior  com- 


7 See  above,  p.  151. 

8 Thucydid.  passim.  See  particularly  the  speech  of  the 
Athenians  at  the  beginning  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  c.  xv. 
p.  187. 


314 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


munities  from  their  more  powerful  neighbours, 
but  to  add  them  to  the  confederacy  of  which 
she  formed  the  head ; and  by  such  multiplied 
accessions  of  power,  of  wealth,  and  of  fame, 
to  re-establish  that  solid  power  in  Greece, 
which  had  been  imprudently  abandoned  for  the 
hope  of  Asiatic  triumphs.1 

That  such  considerations  of  interest  and  am- 
bition, not  a sincere  desire  to  promote  the  pub- 
lic tranquillity,  had  produced  this  perfidious 
treaty,  could  not  long  be  kept  secret ; notwith- 
standing the  various  artifices  employed  to  con- 
ceal it.  Thebes  and  Argos  were  required  to 
comply  with  the  terms  of  the  peace  ; but  no 
mention  was  made  of  withdrawing  the  Lacae- 
demonian  garrisons  from  the  places  which  they 
occupied.  Lest  this  injustice  might  occasion 
general  discontent,  the  Athenians  were  allowed 
the  same  privilege.  The  possession  of  the  un- 
important isles  of  Lemnos,  Scyros,  and  Imbros, 
flattered  their  vain  hopes,  and  lulled  them  into 
false  security  ; and,  as  they  expected  to  reap 
the  fruits  of  the  victories  of  Conon  and  Thra- 
sybulus,  the)?  were  averse  to  renew  the  war  for 
the  sake  of  their  allies,  whose  interests  were 
now  separated  from  their  own.  Meanwhile 
the  Spartan  emissaries  negotiated  and  intrigued 
in  all  the  subordinate  cities,  encouraging  the 
aristocratical  factions,  and  fomenting  the  ani- 
mosities of  the  citizens  against  each  other,  and 
against  their  respective  capitals.  The  jealousies 
and  complaints,  which  had  been  principally  oc- 
casioned by  these  secret  cabals,  were  usually 
referred  to  the  Spartan  senate ; whose  affected 
moderation,  under  pretence  of  defending  the 
cause  of  the  weak  and  the  injured,  alwaysde- 
cided  the  contest  in  the  way  most  favourable 
for  themselves.  But  the  warlike  disciples  of 
Lycurgus  could  not  long  remain  satisfied  with 
these  juridical  usurpations.  They  determined 
to  take  arms,  which  they  probably  hoped  to 
employ  with  such  artful  dexterity  as  might  pre- 
vent any  general,  or  very  dangerous,  alarm  ; 
beginning  with  such  cities  as  had  not  entered 
into  the  late  confederacy  against  them,  gradu- 
ally extending  their  hostilities  to  the  more  pow- 
erful members  of  that  confederacy ; and  thus 
conquering  successively  those  whose  entire  and 
collective  strength  it  would  have  been  vain  to 
assail.2 

The  first  victim  of  this  ambitious 
xcviii  3 policy  was  the  flourishing  republic 
A C 336  M311*111863’  whose  territory  was 

situate  almost  in  the  centre  of  Ar- 
cadia,, .itself  the  centre  of  the  Peloponnesus. 
The  origin  of  Mantinaea  was  the  same  with 
that  of  Tegea,  Stymphalis,  Heraea,  Orcho- 
menas,  and  other  neighbouring  cities,  which 
had  grown  into  populousness  and  power 
from  the  scattered  villages  of  shepherds  inha- 
biting the  valleys  and  mountains  of  Arcadia. 
The  exuberant  fertility,  the  inland  situation, 
the  generous  warmth,  yet  lively  verdure,3  to- 
gether with  the  picturesque  and  animating 
scenery  of  this  delightful  region,  seemed  pecu- 


1 Vid.  Isocrat.  de  Pace,  passim. 

2 Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  v.  p.  551.  and  Diodor.  1.  xv.  p.448. 

3 These  circumstances  are  common  to  Arcadia  with  the 
other  mountainous  districts  of  Greece,  as  well  as  with  the 
islands  of  the  Archipelago.  Tournefort. 


[Chap. 

liarly  adapted  to  inspire,  and  to  gratify,  the 
love  of  rural  happiness  ; and  to  afford,  in  all 
their  elegance  and  dignity,  those  sublime  and 
sacred  joys  of  the  country , which  the  genius  of 
ancient  poets  hath  felt,  and  described  with  such 
affecting  sensibility.  Every  district  of  Arca- 
dia was  marked  and  diversified  by  hills,  some 
of  which,  could  we  credit  the  inaccuracy  of 
geographical  description,  ascend  two  miles  in 
perpendicular  height,4  and  which  supply  innu- 
merable streams,  that  water  and  fertilize  the  rich 
valleys  which  they  enclose  and  defend.  This 
secure  and  insulated  position  of  their  territory 
long  preserved  the  Arcadians  igporant  and  un- 
corrupted ; and  a little  before  the  period  of  his- 
tory now  under  review,  they  were  distinguished 
by  the  innocent  simplicity  of  their  manners, 
and  by  their  fond  attachment  to  a pastoral  life. 
But  the  turbulent  ambition  of  their  neighbours 
had  often  obliged  them  to  employ  the  sword  in- 
stead of  the  sheep-hook.  They  had  reluctantly 
taken  arms  ; yet,  when  compelled  by  necessity, 
or  excited  by  honour,  the  mountaineers  of  Ar- 
cadia had  displayed  such  stubborn  valour,  and 
exerted  such  efforts  of  vigour  and  activity,  as 
made  their  services  eagerly  desired,  and  pur- 
chased with  emulation,  by  the  surrounding 
states.  Nor  had  they  trusted  to  their  persona) 
strength  and  bravery  alone  for  the  defence  of 
their  beloved  possession.  Having  quitted  their 
farms  and  villages,  they  had  assembled  into 
walled  towns,  from  which  their  numerous  gar- 
risons were  ready  to  sally  forth  against  a hos- 
tile invader.  The  dangerous  vicinity  of  Sparta 
had  early  driven  the  companions  of  Pan  and 
the  Nymphs  from  the  vocal  woods  of  mount 
Msenalus,5  into  the  fortifications  of  Tegea,  for- 
merly the  principal  city  of  the  province,6  but 
afterwards  rivalled  and  surpassed  by  Mantinaea, 
which  was  become  an  object  of  jealousy  and 
envy,  not  only  to  the  neighbouring  cities  of 
Arcadia,  but  even  to  Sparta  herself. 

]ji  the  year  immediately  follow- 
xcviii  3 treatF  Antalcidas,  Lace- 

A C *37*6  daemonian  ambassadors  were  sent 
to  Mantinaea,  to  discharge  a very  ex- 
traordinary commission.  Having  demanded  an 
audience  of  the  assembly,  they  expressed  the 
resentment  of  their  republic  against  a people, 
who,  pretending  to  live  in  friendship  with  them, 
had  in  the  late  war  repeatedly  furnished  with 
corn  their  avowed  enemies  the  Argives.  That, 
on  other  occasions,  the  Mantinaeans  had  un- 
guardedly discovered  their  secret  hatred  to 
Sparta,  rejoicing  in  her  misfortunes,  and  envy- 
ing her  prosperity.  That  it  was  time  to  antici- 
pate this  dangerous  and  unjust  animosity;  for 
which  purpose  the  Spartans  commanded  them 
to  demolish  their  walls,  to  abandon  their  proud 
city,  and  to  return  to  those  peaceful  villages  in 
which  their  ancestors  had  lived  and  flourished.7 
The  Mantinaeans  received  this  proposal  with  the 
indignation  which  it  merited ; the  ambassadors 


4 Descript.  Graec.  apud  Gronov.  vol.  i. 

5 Maenalus  argutumque  nemus  pinosque  loquentes 

Semper  habet ; semper  pastorum  ille  audit  amorea 
Panaoue,  &o.  Virg.  Eel.  viii.  v.  22. 

6 Herodot.  I.  vi.  c.  105. 

7 Xenoph.  Ilellen.  1.  v.  c.  2,  et  seq.  Diodor.  L.  xv.  c.  7 

et  seq. 


XXIX.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


315 


retired  in  disgust;  the  Spartans  declared  war; 
summoned  the  assistance  of  their  confederates ; 
and  a powerful  army,  commanded  by  king  Age- 
sipolis,  invaded  the  hostile  territory. 

But  the  most  destructive  ravages  could  not 
bend  the  resolution  of  the  Mantinaeans.  The 
Strength  and  loftiness  of  their  walls  bade  defi- 
ance to  assault;  nor  could  a regular  siege  be 
undertaken  with  certain  success,  as  the  maga- 
zines of  Mantinaea  were  abundantly  stored 
with  various  kinds  of  grain,  the  crops  of  the 
former  year  having  been  uncommonly  plentiful. 
Agesipolis,  however,  embraced  this  doubtful 
mode  of  attack,  and  drew  first  a ditch,  and  then 
a wall,  entirely  round  the  place,  employing  one 
part  of  his  troops  in  the  work,  and  another  in 
guarding  the  workmen.  This  tedious  service 
exhausted  the  patience  of  the  besiegers,  with- 
out shaking  the  firmness  of  the  Mantinaeans. 
The  Spartans  were  afraid  to  detain  longer  in 
the  field  their  reluctant  confederates;  but  Age- 
sipolis proposed  a new  measure,  which  was  at- 
tended with  complete  and  immediate  success. 
The  river  Ophis,  formed  by  the  collected  tor- 
rents from  mount  Anchisius,  a river  broad', 
deep,  and  rapid,  flowed  through  the  plain,  and 
the  city  of  Mantinaea.  It  was  a laborious  un- 
dertaking to  stop  the  course  of  this  copious 
stream;  which  was  no  sooner  effected,  than 
the  lower  parts  of  the  walls  of  Mantinaea  were 
laid  under  water.  According  to  the  usual  prac- 
tice of  the  Greeks,  the  fortifications  of  this 
place  were  built  of  raw  bricks,  which  being  less 
liable  to  break  into  chinks,  and  to  fly  out  of 
their  courses,  were  preferred  as  the  best  defence 
against  the  battering-engines  then  in  use.  But 
it  is  the  inconvenience  of  raw  bricks,  to  be  as 
easily  dissolved  by  water,  as  wax  is  melted  by 
the  sun.8 9 *  The  walls  of  Mantinaea  began  to 
yield,  to  shake,  to  fall  in  pieces.  The  activity 
of  the  inhabitants  propped  them  with  wood, 
but  without  any  permanent  advantage ; so  that, 
despairing  of  being  able  to  exclude  the  enemy, 
they  sent  to  capitulate,  requesting  that  they 
might  be  permitted  to  keep  possession  of  their 
city,  on  condition  that  they  demolished  their 
fortifications,  and  followed,  in  peace  and  war, 
the  fortune  of  Sparta. 

Ql  Agesipolis  and  his  counsellors  re- 

xcviii  4 fused  to  grant  them  any  other  terms 
A C *385  Peace  th3-11  th°se  which  had  been 
originally  proposed  by  the  republic. 
He  observed,  that  while  they  lived  together  in 
one  populous  city,  their  numbers  exposed  them 
to  the  delusions  of  seditious  demagogues,  whose 
address  and  eloquence  easily  seduced  the  mul- 
titude from  their  real  interest,  and  destroyed 
the  influence  of  their  superiors  in  rank,  in 
wealth,  and  in  wisdom,  on  whose  attachment 
alone  the  Lacedaemonians  could  safely  depend. 
They  insisted,  therefore,  that  the  Mantinaeans 
should  destroy  their  houses  in  the  city;  sepa- 
rate into  four  distinct  communities and  return 
to  those  villages  which  their  ancestors  had  in- 
habited. The  terror  of  an  immediate  assault 
made  it  necessary  to  comply  with  this  humiliat- 

8 This  is  the  expression  of  Pausanias,  in  Arcad.  who 
mentions  the  name  of  the  river  Ophis,  omitted  by  Xeno- 
phon and  Diodorus. 

9 Xenophon  says  four.  Diodorus  five. 


ing  demand;  but  the  most  zealous  partisans  of 
democracy,  to  the  number  of  sixty,  afraid  of 
trusting  to  the  capitulation,  were  allowed  to  fly 
from  their  country ; which  is  mentioned  as  an 
instance  of  moderation10  in  the  Lacedaemonian 
soldiers,  who  might  have  put  them  to  death  as 
they  passed  through  the  gates, 
j-x,  t This  transaction  was  scarcely 

xci^f " finished,  when  the  Spart^p  magis- 
A C 384  trates  se*zed  an  opportunity  of  the 
domestic  discontents  among  the 
Phliasians,  to  display  the  same  tyrannical  spi- 
rit, but  with  still  greater  exertions  of  severity. 
The  little  republic  of  Phlius,  like  every  state  of 
Greece  in  those  unfortunate,  at  least  turbulent 
times,  was  distracted  by  factions.  The  prevail- 
ing party  banished  their  opponents,  the  friends 
of  Sparta  and  aristocracy.  They  were  allowed 
to  return  from  exile,  in  consequence  of  the  com- 
mands and  threats  of  Agesilaus;11  but  met  not 
with  that  respectful  treatment  which  seemed 
due  to  persons  who  enjoyed  such  powerful  pro- 
tection. They  complained,  and  Agesilaus  again 
interfered,  by  appointing  commissioners  to  try 
and  condemn  to  death  the  obnoxious  Phliasians ; 
an  odious  office,  which  must  have  been  exe- 
cuted with  unexampled  rigour,  since  the  city 
of  Phlius,  which  had  hitherto  been  divided  by  a 
variety  of  interests,  thenceforward  continued 
invariably  the  steadfast  ally  of  Sparta.12 

Mean  while  ambassadors  arrived  from  Acan- 
thus and  Apollonia,two  cities  of  the  Chalcidicd, 
requesting  the  Lacedaemonian  assistance  against 
the  dangerous  ambition  of  Olynthus.  This 
city,  of  which  we  had  occasion  to  mention  the 
foundation  towards  the  beginning  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian war,  was  situate  nine  miles  from  the 
sea,  in  a fertile  and  secure  district,  between  the 
rivers  Olynthus  and  Amnias,  which  flow  into 
the  lake  Bolyca,  a name  improperly  bestowed 
on  the  inmost  recess  of  the  Toronaic  gulf. 
The  vexatious  government  of  Athens  first 
drove  the  maritime  communities  of  the  Chal- 
cidic  region  within  the  walls  of  Olynthus ; the 
oppressive  tyranny  of  Sparta  6bliged  them  to 
strengthen  those  walls,  as  well  as  to  provide 
sufficient  garrisons  to  defend  them;  and  the 
subsequent  misfortunes  of  these  domineering 
republics,  together  with  the  weakness  of  Mace- 
don,  encouraged  and  enabled  the  inhabitants  of 
Olynthus  thus  successfully  to  employ,  in  offen- 
sive war,  the  forces  which  had  been  raised  with 
no  other  view  than  to  maintain  their  own  inde- 
pendence. The  towns  which  they  subdued  were 
either  incorporated  or  associated  with  their 
own ; and  Olynthus  became  the  head  of  a con- 
federacy, whose  extent,  power,  resources,  and 
hopes,  occasioned  just  alarm  among  the  neigh- 
bouring communities  of  Greeks  and  Barbarians. 
They  had  already  conquered  the  southern 
shores  of  Macedon,  which  comprehended  the 
delightful  regions  of  Chalcis  and  Pierea,  in- 
dented by  two  great  and  two  smaller  bays,  and 
affording,  in  the  highest  perfection,  the  united 
benefits  of  agriculture,  pasturage,  and  com- 


10  Or  rather  of  good  discipline;  tts The  nobles 

of  the  Mantinceans,  o«  ^sKrurroi  twv  were  not 

so  lemperate  ; vide  Xenoph.  p.  552. 

11  Xenoph.  in  Aeesyl.  et  Hellen.  1.  v.  p.  533. 

12  Id.  1.  vii.  •).  625. 


316 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


merce.  They  aspired  at  acquiring  the  valuable 
district  of  mount  Pangoeus,  whose  timber  and 
mines  alike  tempted  their  ambition  and  avarice; 
and  Olynthus  being  favourably  situate  in  the 
centre  of  the  Chalcidice,  itself  the  centre  of  the 
Macedonian  and  Thracian  coasts,  might  have 
preserved  and  extended  her  dominion,  if  the 
ambassadors  of  Acanthus  and  Apollonia  had 
not  completely  effected  the  object  of  their  com- 
mission at  Sparta.  They  applied  to  the  ephori, 
who  introduced  them  to  the  greater  assembly, 
consisting  not  only  of  the  Spartans  and  Lace- 
dsemonians,  but  of  the  deputies  sent  by  their 
confederates.  Cleigenes,  the  Acanthian,  spoke 
in  the  name  of  his  colleagues : “We  apprehend, 
O Lacedaemonians,  and  allies ! that  amidst  the 
multiplied  objects  of  your  care  and  correction, 
you  have  overlooked  a great  and  growing  dis- 
order which  threatens,  like  a pestilence,  to  in- 
fect and  pervade  Greece.  The  ambition  of  the 
Olynthians  has  increased  with  their  power. 
By  the  voluntary  submission  of  the  smaller 
cities  in  their  neighbourhood,  they  have  been 
enabled  to  subdue  the  more  powerful.  Embol- 
dened by  this  accession  of  strength,  they  have 
wrested  from  the  king  of  Macedon  his  most 
valuable  provinces.  They  actually  possess 
Pella,  the  greatest  city  in  that  kingdom ; and 
the  unfortunate  Amyntas  is  on  the  point  of  aban- 
doning the  remainder  of  his  dominions,  which 
he  is  unable  to  defend.  There  is  not  any  com- 
munity in  Thrace  capable  to  stop  their  pro- 
gress. The  independent  tribes  of  that  warlike 
but  divided  country,  respect  the  authority,  and 
court  the  friendship  of  the  Olynthians,  who  will 
doubtless  be  tempted  to  extend  their  dominion 
on  that  side,  in  order  to  augment  the  great 
revenues  which  they  derive  from  their  commer- 
cial cities  and  harbours,  by  the  inexhaustible 
mines  in  mount  Pangseus.  If  this  extensive 
plan  should  be  effected,  what  can  prevent  them 
from  acquiring  a decisive  superiority  by  sea  and 
land  ? and  should  they  enter  into  an  alliance 
with  Athens  and  Thebes  (a  measure  actually 
in  contemplation,)  what  will  become,  we  say 
not,  of  the  hereditary  pre-eminence  of  Sparta, 
but  of  its  independence  and  safety  ? The  pre- 
sent emergency,  therefore,  solicits,  by  every 
motive  of  interest  and  of  honour,  the  activity 
and  valour  of  your  republic.  By  yielding  a 
seasonable  assistance  to  Acanthus  and  Apollo- 
nia, which,  unmoved  by  the  pusillanimous  ex- 
ample of  their  neighbours,  have  hitherto  spurn- 
ed the  yoke,  and  defied  the  threats  of  Olynthus, 
you  will  save  from  oppression  two  peaceful 
communities,  and  check  the  ambition  of  an 
usurping  tyrant.  The  reluctant  subjects  of  the 
Olynthians  will  court  your  protection  ; and  the 
Chalcidian  cities  will  be  encouraged  to  revolt, 
especially  as  they  are  not  yet  inseparably  linked 
with  the  capital  by  the  ties  of  intermarriage  and 
consanguinity,  and  by  the  interchange  of  rights 
and  possessions.1  When  such  a connection 
shall  take  place,  (for  the  Olynthians  have  made 
a law  to  encourage  it,)  you  will  be  unable  to 
break  the  force  of  this  powerful  and  dangerous 
confederacy.” 

The  speech  of  Cleigenes,  and  the  ambitious 

1 Axt  <yxT>i<rt<r«  Xenoph. 

p.  555. 


[CHAr. 

views  of  the  republic  to  which  it  was  addressed, 
afford  reason  to  conjecture  that  the  ambassa- 
dors neither  asked  any  thing  in  favour  of  their 
own  communities,  nor  urged  any  accusation 

Olymp. 
xeix.  2. 

A.  C.  383. 


against  Olynthus,  which  had  not 
been  previously  suggested  by  the 
Spartan  emissaries  in  Macedon. 


The  reception  given  to  the  proposal 
of  Cleigenes  tends  to  confirm  this  conclusion. 
The  Lacedaemonians,  with  affected  impartiality 
and  indifference,  desired  the  opinion  of  their 
allies,  before  declaring  their  own.  But  there 
was  not  any  occasion  to  declare  what  none 
could  be  so  blind  as  to  mistake.  The  confede- 
rates with  one  consent,  but  especially  those 
who  wished  to  ingratiate  themselves  with 
Sparta,2  determined  to  undertake  the  expedi- 
tion against  Olynthus.  The  Spartans  com- 
mended their  resolution,  and  proceeded  to  de- 
liberate concerning  the  strength  of  the  army  to 
be  raised,  the  mode  of  levying  it,  and  the  time 
for  taking  the  field.  It  was  resolved,  that  the 
whole  forces  should  amount  to  ten  thousand 
effective  men ; and  a list  was  prepared,  con- 
taining the  respective  contingents  to  be  fur- 
nished by  the  several  cities.  If  any  state  should 
be  unable  to  supply  the  full  complement  of 
soldiers,  money  would  be  taken  in  their  stead, 
at  the  rate  of  half  a drachm  a day  (or  three- 
pence halfpenny)  for  each  man  ; but  if  neither 
the  troops  nor  the  money  were  sent  in  due  time, 
the  Lacedaemonians  would  punish  the  disobe- 
dience of  the  obstinate  or  neglectful,  by  fining 
them  eight  times  the  sum  which  they  had  been 
originally  required  to  contribute. 

The  ambassadors  then  rose  up,  and  Clei- 
genes, again  speaking  for  the  rest,  declared  that 
these  were  indeed  noble  and  generous  resolu- 
tions; but,  unfortunately,  could  not  be  exe- 
cuted with  such  promptitude  as  suited  the 
urgency  of  the  present  crisis.  The  dangerous 
situation  of  Acanthus  and  Apollonia  demanded 
immediate  assistance.  He  proposed,  therefore, 
that  those  troops  which  were  ready,  should  in- 
stantly take  the  field ; and  insisted  on  this 
measure  as  a matter  of  the  utmost  importance 
to  the  future  success  of  the  war. 

The  LacedEemonians  acknowledged  the  ex- 
pediency of  the  advice ; and  commanded  Eu- 
damidas,  with  two  thousand  men,  to  proceed 
f-.,  without  delay  to  Macedon,  while 

xeix  brother  Phcebidas  collected  a 

A C 383  Power^*u^  reinforcement,  in  order  to 
follow  him.  A very  extraordinary 
event,  which  we  shall  have  occasion  fully  to 
explain,  retarded  the  arrival  of  those  auxilia- 
ries, until  the  season  for  action  had  been  nearly 
spent.  But  Eudamidas,  with  his  little  band, 
performed  very  essential  service.  He  strength- 
ened the  garrisons  of  such  places  as  were  most 
exposed  to  assaults  from  the  enemy ; the  ap- 
pearance of  a Spartan  army  encouraged  the 
spirit  of  revolt  among  the  allies  and  subjects 
of  Olynthus ; and  soon  after  his  march  into 
the  Chalcidic£,  Eudamidas  received  the  volun- 
tary surrender  of  Potidaea,  a city  of  great  im- 
portance in  the  isthmus  of  Pallene. 

Such  was  the  first  campaign  of  a war  which 


2 K*»  flxKKTTX  01  /30U\0jU£|/0«  TOIT  A XXtXa 

/xzvioi;.  Xenopb.  p.  555. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


317 


XXIX.] 

lasted  four  years,  and  was  carried  on  under 
four  successive  generals.  Eudamidas,  too  much 
elated  by  his  first  success,  ravaged  the  Olyn- 
thian  territory,  and  unguardedly  approached 
the  city.  He  was  intercepted,  conquered,  and 
slain,  and  his  army  dispersed  or  lost.3 

Teleutias,  the  brother  of  Agesilaus,  whose 
naval  exploits  have  been  already  mentioned 
with  applause,  assumed  the  conduct  of  this 
distant  expedition,  with  a body  of  ten  thou- 
sand men.  He  was  assisted  by  Amyntas,  king 
ni  of  Macedon,  and  still  more  effectu- 

7mfj'  ally  by  Derdas,  the  brother  of  that 
AC1p  qqo  prince,  and  the  governor,  or  rather 
’ y ' sovereign,  of  Elymea,  the  most 
western  province  of  Macedon,  which  abounded 
in  cavalry.  By  the  united  efforts  of  these  for- 
midable enemies,  the  Olynthians,  who  had  been 
defeated  in  various  rencounters,  were  shut  up 
within  their  walls,  and  prevented  from  culti- 
vating their  territory.  Teleutias  at  length 
marched  with  his  whole  forces,  in  order  to  in- 
vest, or  if  he  found  an  opportunity,  to  assault 
the  place.  His  surprise  and  indignation  were 
excited  by  the  boldness  of  the  Olynthian  horse, 
who  ventured  to  pass  the  Amnias  in  sight  of 
such  a superior  army ; and  he  ordered  the  tar- 
geteers,  who  were  commanded  by  Tlemonidas, 
to  repel  their  insolence.  The  cavalry  made  an 
artful  retreat  across  the  Amnias,  and  were 
fiercely  pursued  by  the  Lacedaemonians.  When 
a considerable  part  of  the  latter  had  likewise 
passed  the  river,  the  Olynthians  suddenly  faced 
about,  and  charged  them.  Tlemonidas,  with 
above  a hundred  of  his  companions,  fell  in  the 
action.  The  Spartan  general  beheld  with  grief 
and  rage  the  successful  bravery  of  the  enemy. 
Grasping  his  shield  and  lance,  he  commanded 
the  cavalry,  and  the  remainder  of  the  target- 
eers,  to  pursue  without  intermission ; and,  at 
the  head  of  his  heavy-armed  men,  advanced 
with  less  order  than  celerity.  The  Olynthians 
attempted  not  to  stop  their  progress,  till  they 
arrived  under  the  walls  and  battlements.  At 
that  moment  the  townsmen  mounted  their  ram- 
parts, and  assailed  the  enemy  with  a shower  of 
darts  and  arrows,  and  every  kind  of  missile 
weapon,  which  greatly  added  to  the  confusion 
occasioned  by  the  rapidity  of  their  march. 
Mean  while  the  flower  of  the  Olynthian  troops, 
who  had  been  purposely  drawn  up  behind  the 
gates,  sallied  forth  with  irresistible  violence ; 
Teleutias,  attempting  to  rally  his  men,  was 
slain  in  the  first  onset ; the  Spartans  who  at- 
tended him  gave  ground ; the  ivhole  army  was 
repelled,  and  pursued  with  great  slaughter, 
while  they  fled  in  scattered  disorder  towards 
the  friendly  towns  of  Acanthus,  Apollonia, 
Spartolus,  and  Potidaea.4 

This  mortifying  disaster  did  not  cool  the  ar- 
dour of  the  Spartans  for  gaining  possession  of 
Olynthus.  In  the  year  three  hundred  and 
Olvmn  eighty-one  before  Christ,  which  was 
xcix  4*  ^ie  war,  ^cy  sent  Age- 

A C 381  siP°^s’  with  a powerful  reinforce- 
ment, into  Macedon.  The  arrival 
of  this  prince  early  in  the  spring,  revived  the 
hopes  of  the  vanquished,  and  confirmed  the 


3 Xcnoph.  p.  556. 


4 Idem.  p.  561,  et  seq. 


attachment  of  the  Lacedaemonian  allies.  He 
invaded  and  ravaged  such  parts  of  the  Olyn- 
thian territory  as  had  been  spared  in  former  in- 
cursions, and  took  by  storm  the  strong  city  of 
Torona.  But  while  he  prepared  to  avail  him- 
self of  these  advantages  for  rendering  his  suc- 
cess complete,  he  was  seized  by  a calenture,  a 
disease  incident  to  warm  climates,  and,  as  the 
name  expresses,  affecting  the  patient  with  a 
painful  sensation  of  burning  heat,  which  he  is 
eager  to  extinguish  by  the  most  violent  and 
dangerous  remedies.5  Agesipolis  had  lately 
visited  the  temple  of  Apollo  at  Aphytis,  a 
maritime  town  on  the  Toranaic  gulf.  In  the 
paroxysm  of  this  disorder,  he  longed  for  the 
fanning  breezes,  the  shady  walks  and  groves, 
and  the  cool  crystalline  streams,  of  that  de- 
lightful retreat.  His  attendants  indulged  his 
inclination,  but  could  not  save  his  life.  He 
died  on  the  seventh  day  of*  the  disease,  within 
the  precincts  of  the  consecrated  ground.  His 
remains,  embalmed  in  honey,  were  conveyed  to 
Sparta.6  • His  brother  Cleombrotus  succeeded 
to  the  throne ; and  Polybiades,  a general  of  ex- 
perience and  capacity,  was  invested  with  the 
command  in  Macedon. 

Polybiades,  imitating  the  exam- 
c ^ pie  of  his  predecessors,  conducted 

A C 380  a Power^  reinforcement  against 
Olynthus,  which  was  completely 
surrounded  by  land,  while  a squadron  of  La- 
cedaemonian galleys  blocked  up  the  neighbour- 
ing harbour  of  Mecyberna.  The  events  of  the 
siege,  which  lasted  eight  or  ten  months,  have 
not  been  thought  worthy  of  record.  It  is  pro- 
bable that  the  Olynthians  no  longer  ventured 
to  sally  forth  against  such  a superior  force  : 
yet  they  must  have  beep  exceedingly  distressed 
by  famine  before  their  obstinacy  could  be  de- 
termined to  capitulate.  They  formally  relin- 
quished all  claim  to  the  dominion  of  the  Chal- 
cidice  : they  ceded  the  Macedonian  cities  to 
their  ancient  sovereign  ; and  engaged,  by  so- 
lemn oaths,  to  obey,  in  peace  and  war,  the 
commands  of  their  Spartan  confederates  and 
masters.7  In  consequence  of  this  humiliating 
treaty,  or  rather  of  this  absolute  submission  of 
the  Olynthians,  Polybiades  led  off  his  victori- 
ous army,  and  Amyntas  forsook  the  royal  resi- 
dence of  iEgae  or  Edessa,  and  re-established 
his  court  at  Pella,  a place  of  great  strength  and 
beauty,  situate  on  an  eminence,  which,  with  an 
adjoining  plain  of  considerable  extent,  was  de- 
fended by  the  rivers  Axius  and  Lydias,  and  by 
impervious  lakes.and  morasses.  The  city  was 
distant  only  fifteen  miles  from  the  iEgean  sea, 
with  which  it  communicated  by  means  of  the 
above  mentioned  rivers.  It  had  been  of  old 
founded  by  Greeks,  by  whom  it  was  recently 
conquered  and  peopled ; but  in  consequence  of 
the  misfortunes  and  surrender  of  Olynthus, 
Pella  became,  and  thenceforth  continued,  the 
capital  of  Macedon. 


5 It  is  supposed,  wilh  great  probability,  that  the  sailors 
who  suddenly  disappear  in  the  Mediterranean,  during  the 
heat  of  summer,  have  been  attacked  in  the  night  by  the 
calenture,  and  have  thrown  themselves  into  the  sea.  Cy- 
clopied.  Par.  ad  voc.  The  disorder  is  examined  by  Dr 
Shaw,  Phil.  Trans.  Abridg.  vol.  iv. 

6 Xenoph.  p.  564.  7 Ibid.  p.  565. 


318 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


The  commencemient,  and  especially  the  con- 
clusion of  the  Olynthian  war,  breathed  the 
same  spirit  with  the  peace  of  Antalcidas,  and 
proved  the  degenerate  ambition  of  the  Spar- 
tans, who  were  prepared  to  aggrandise  the  Bar- 
barians on  every  side,  in  order  to  obtain  their 
assistance  towards  extending  their  own  domi- 
nion in  Greece.  This  selfish  and  cruel  system 
of  policy  deserved  the  indignation  and  resent- 
ment of  the  whole  Grecian  name,  who  were  at 
length  excited  against  Sparta  by  a very  extra- 
ordinary transaction,  to  which  we  already  had 
occasion  to  allude.  When  Eudamidas  under- 
took the  expedition  against  Olynthus,  it  was 
intended  that  his  brother  Phoebidas  should  fol- 
low him  at  the  head  of  eight  thousand  men. 
This  powerful  reinforcement  marched  from 
Peloponnesus,  and,  in  their  journey  north- 
wards, encamped  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Thebes,  which  was  then  torn  by  the  inveterate 
hostility  of  contending  factions.  Ismenias, 
whose  name  has  already  occurred  on  a very 
dishonourable  occasion,  headed  the  democra- 
tical  party  ; Leontiades  supported  the  interest 
of  Sparta  and  aristocracy  ; and  both  were  in- 
vested with  the  archonship,  the  chief  magis- 
tracy in  the  commonwealth.  It  is  not  abso- 
lutely certain  that  Phoebidas  had  previous  or- 
ders to  interfere  in  this  dissension,1  when  he 
was  accosted  by  Leontiades,  “ who  exhorted 
him  to  seize  the  opportunity  which  fortune  had 
thrown  in  his  way,  of  performing  a signal  ser- 
vice to  his  country.  He  then  explained  to  the 
Lacedaemonian  the  distracted  state  of  Thebes, 
and  the  facility  with  which  he  might  become 
master  of  the  citadel ; so  that  while  his  brother 
Eudamidas  was  carrying  on  the  war  againfct 
Olynthus,  he  himself  would  acquire  possession 
of  a much  greater  city.”2 

A contemporary  historian,  whose  known 
partiality  for  the  Lacedaemonians  disposed  him 
to  regard  this  singular  enterprise  as 
^ mP*  an  act  of  private  audacity,  repre- 
sents Phoebidas  as  a man  of  a light 
and  vain  mind,  who  loved  the  fame 
of  a splendid  action  more  than  life  itself,  and 
who  embraced,  with  childish  transports  of  joy,3 
the  proposal  of  Leontiades.  The  mode  of  ex- 
ecuting their  plan  was  soon  settled  between 
them.  To  elude  suspicion,  Phoebidas  made  the 
usual  preparations  for  continuing  his  journey, 
when  he  was  suddenly  recalled  by  his  associate. 
It  was  the  month  of  July;  the  heat  was  in- 
tense, and,  at  mid-day,  few  or  no  passengers 
were  to  be  seen  in  the  roads  or  streets.  The 
Theban  matrons  celebrated  the  festival  of 
Ceres,  and  prayed  that  bountiful  divinity  to 
preserve  the  hope  of  a favourable  harvest. 
The  appropriated  scene  of  their  female  worship 
was  the  Cadmaea,  or  citadel,  of  which  the  gates 
had  been  purposely  thrown  open,  and  which 
was  totally  defenceless,  as  the  males  were  uni- 
versally excluded  from  this  venerable  ceremony. 


xcix.  2. 

A.  C.  383. 


[Cha*. 

Every  circumstance  conspired  to  facilitate  the 
design  of  Leontiades,  who  conducted  the  La- 
cedaemonians to  the  fortress,  without  finding 
the  smallest  opposition.  He  immediately  de- 
scended to  the  senate,  which,  though  it  usually 
assembled  in  the  Cadmaea,  was  then  sitting  in 
the  market-place ; declared  that  the  Lacedae- 
monians had  acted  by  his  advice,  and  without 
any  purpose  of  hostility  ; seized  Ismenias  with 
his  own  hand  as  a disturber  of  the  public  peace, 
and  ordered  the  other  leaders  of  the  republican 
faction  to  be  taken  into  safe  custody.  Many 
were  caught  and  imprisoned,  and  about  four 
hundred  escaped  to  Athens.4 

When  the  news  of  this  event  reached  Sparta, 
the  senate  and  assembly  resounded  with  real  or 
well-feigned  complaints  against  the  madness  of 
Phoebidas,  who,  unprovoked  by  any  injury,  had 
violently  seized  a place  in  alliance  and  amity 
with  the  republic.  Agesilaus,  however,  under- 
took his  defence  ; his  ambitious  mind  had  long 
fomented  the  domineering  arrogance  of  his 
country  ; possibly  he  had  prompted  the  enter- 
prise of  Phoebidas,  which  he  warmly  approved ; 
and  his  influence  being  as  extensive  as  his  abili- 
ties, he  easily  persuaded  his  countrymen  to  jus- 
tify the  fortunate  rashness5  of  that  commander, 
by  keeping  possession  of  the  Theban  citadel. 

During  five  years  the  Spartans  maintained, 
in  the  Cadmaea,  a garrison  of  fifteen  hundred 
men.  Protected  by  such  a body  of  foreign 
troops,  which  might  be  reinforced  on  the  short- 
est warning,  the  partisans  of  aristocracy  acquir- 
ed an  absolute  ascendant  in  the  affairs  of  the 
republic,  which  they  conducted  in  such  a man- 
ner as  best  suited  their  own  interest,  and  the 
convenience  of  Sparta.  Without  pretending  to 
describe  the  banishments,  confiscations,  and 
murders,  of  which  they  were  guilty,  it  is  suffi- 
cient for  the  purpose  of  general  history  to  ob- 
serve, that  the  miserable  victims  of  their  ven- 
geance suffered  similar  calamities  to  those  which 
afflicted  Athens  under  the  thirty  tyrants.  The 
severity  of  the  government  at  length  drove  the 
Thebans  to  despair ; and  both  the  persecuted 
exiles  abroad,  and  the  oppressed  subjects  at 
home,  prepared  to  embrace  any  measures,  how- 
ever daring  and  hazardous,  which  promised 
them  a faint  hope  of  relief.6 

Among  the  Theban  fugitives  who 

^ had  taken  refuge  in  Athens,  and 

A C 378  w^ose  Persons  were  now  loudly  de- 
manded by  Sparta,  was  Pelopidas, 
the  son  of  Hippocles,  a youth,  whose  distin- 
guished advantages  might  have  justly  rendered 
him  an  object  of  envy,  before  he  was  involved 
in  the  misfortunes  of  his  country.  He  yielded 
to  none  in  birth  ; he  surpassed  all  in  fortune  ; 
he  excelled  in  the  manly  exercises  so  much 
esteemed  by  the  Greeks,  and  was  unrivalled  in 
qualities  still  more  estimable,  generosity  and 
courage.  He  had  an  hereditary  attachment  to 
the  democratic  form  of  policy ; and,  previous 


1 Diodorus  boldly  asserts,  that  Phoebidas  acted  by  orders 
of  his  republic,  and  that  the  feigned  complaints  against  him 
were  nothing  but  a mask  to  disguise  or  to  conceal  the  in- 
justice of  the  community. 

2 Xenoph.  p.  297,  et  seq.  Plutarch,  in  Pelopid.  Diodor, 
p.  457. 

3 Ak<xsw9»tS)]  is  the  expression  used  by  Xenophon. 


4 Xenoph.  p.  557. 

5 To  save  appearances,  however,  Phoebidas  was  fined. 
Even  his  accusers  were  offended,  not  at  his  injustice,  but 
at  his  acting  without  orders.  Xenoph.  ibid,  et  Plutarch, 
vil.  ii.  p.  336. 

6 Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  v.  c.  iv.  Plut.  in  Pelopid.  dem  de 
Genio  Socratis,  p.  322,  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


319 


XXVIJ.J 

to  the  late  melancholy  revolution,  was  marked 
out  by  his  numerous  friends  and  adherents  as 
the  person  most  worthy  of  administering  the 
government.  Pelopidas  had  often  conferred 
with  his  fellow  sufferers  at  Athens  about  the 
means  of  returning  to  their  country,  and  re- 
storing the  democracy  ; encouraging  them  by 
the  example  of  the  patriotic  Thrasybulus,  who, 
with  a handful  of  men,  had  issued  from  Thebes, 
and  effected  a similar,  but  still  more  difficult, 
enterprise.  While  they  secretly  deliberated  on 
this  important  object,  Mello,  one  of  the  exiles, 
introduced  to  their  nocturnal  assembly  his  friend 
Phyllidas,  who  had  lately  arrived  from  Thebes; 
a man  whose  enterprising  activity,  singular  ad- 
dress, and  crafty  boldness,  justly  entitle  him  to 
the  regard  of  history. 

Phyllidas  was  strongly  attached  to  the  cause 
of  the  exiles ; yet,  by  his  insinuating  complai- 
sance, and  officious  servility,  he  had  acquired 
the  entire  confidence  of  Leontiades,  Archias, 
and  the  other  magistrates,  or  rather  tyrants,7 
of  the  republic.  In  business  and  in  pleasure, 
he  rendered  himself  alike  necessary  to  his  mas- 
ters ; his  diligence  and  abilities  had  procured 
him  the  important  office  of  secretary  to  the 
council ; and  he  had  lately  promised  to  Archias 
and  Philip,  the  two  most  licentious  of  the  ty- 
rants, that  he  would  give  them  an  entertain- 
ment, during  which  they  might  enjoy  the  con- 
versation and  the  persons  of  the  finest  women 
in  Thebes.  The  day  was  appointed  for  this 
infamous  rendezvous,  which  these  magisterial 
debauchees  expected  with  the  greatest  impa- 
tience ; and,  in  the  interval,  Phyllidas  set  out 
for  Athens,  on  pretence  of  private  business.s 

In  Athens,  the  time  and  the  means  were  ad- 
justed for  executing  the  conspiracy.  A body 
of  Theban  exiles  assembled  in  the  Thriasian 
plain,  on  the  frontier  of  Attica,  where  seven, 9 
or  twelve, 'o  of  the  youngest  and  most  enter- 
prising, voluntarily  offered  themselves  to  enter 
the  capital,  and  to  co-operate  with  Phyllidas  in 
the  destruction  of  the  magistrates.  The  distance 
between  Thebes  and  Athens  was  about  thirty- 
five  miles.  The  conspirators  had  thirteen  miles 
to  march  through  a hostile  territory.  They 
disguised  themselves  in  the  garb  of  peasants, 
arrived  at  the  city  towards  evening  with  nets 
and  hunting  poles,  and  passed  the  gates  with- 
out suspicion.  During  that  night,  and  the  suc- 
ceeding day,  the  house  of  Charon,  a wealthy 
and  respectable  citizen,  the  friend  of  Phyllidas 
and  a determined  enemy  of  the  aristocracy, 
afforded  them  a secure  refuge,  till  the  favoura- 
ble moment  summoned  them  to  action. 

The  important  evening  approached,  when  the 
artful  secretary  had  prepared  his  long-expected 
entertainment  in  the  treasury.  Nothing  had 
been  omitted  that  could  flatter  the  senses,  and 
lull  the  activity  of  the  mind  in  a dream  of  plea- 
sure. But  a secret  and  obscure  rumour,  which 
had  spread  in  the  city,  hung,  like  a drawn  dag- 
ger, over  the  voluptuous  joys  of  the  festivity. 
It  had  been  darkly  reported,  that  some  unknown 
strangers,  supposed  to  be  a party  of  the  exiles, 
had  been  received  into  the  house  of  Charon.  All 


7 T))v  5rsf  i Af  %i*w  TvqctwiSx.  Xcnopb. 

8 Xenoph.  p.  566. 

9 Plutareh  in  Pelopid.  10  Ibid. 


the  address  of  Phyllidas  could  not  divert  tho 
terror  of  his  guests.  They  despatched  one  ot 
their  lictors  or  attendants  to  demand  the  imme- 
diate presence  of  Charon.  The  conspirators 
were  already  buckling  on  their  armour,  in 
hopes  of  being  immediately  summoned  to  exe- 
cute their  purpose.  But  what  was  their  asto- 
nishment and  terror,  when  their  host  and  pro- 
tector was  sternly  ordered  to  appear  before  the 
magistrates ! The  most  sanguine  were  per- 
suaded that  their  design  had  become  public, 
and  that  they  must  all  miserably  perish,  without 
effecting  any  thing  worthy  of  their  courage. 
After  a moment  of  dreadful  reflection,  they  ex- 
horted Charon  to  obey  the  mandate  without 
delay.  But  that  firm  and  patriotic  Theban  first 
went  to  the  apartment  of  his  wife,  took  his  in- 
fant son,  an  only  child,  and  presented  him  to 
Pelopidas  and  Mello,  requesting  them  to  retain 
in  their  hands  t^iis  dearest  pledge  of  his  fidelity. 
They  unanimously  declared  their  entire  confi- 
dence in  his  honour,  and  entreated  him  to  re- 
move from  danger  a helpless  infant,  who  might 
become,  in  some  future  time,  the  avenger  of  his 
country’s  wrongs.  But  Charon  was  inflexible, 
declaring,  “ That  his  son  could  never  aspire  at 
a happier  fortune,  than  thatof  dying  honourably 
with  his  father  and  friends.” 

So  saying,  he  addressed  a short  prayer  to  the 
gods,  embraced  his  associates,  and  departed. 
Before  he  arrived  at  the  treasury,  he  was  met 
by  Archias  and  Phyllidas.  The  former  asked 
him,  in  the  presence  of  the  other  magistrates, 
who^e  anxiety  had  brought  them  from  table, 
“ Who  are  those  strangers  said  to  have  arrived 
the  other  day,  and  to  be  now  entertained  in 
your  family?”  Charon  had  composed  his  counte- 
nance so  artfully,  and  retorted  the  question  with 
such  well-dissembled  surprise,  as  considerably 
quieted  the  solicitude  of  the  tyrants,  which  was 
totally  removed  by  a whisper  of  Phyllidas, 
“ That  the  absurd  rumour  had  doubtless  been 
spread  for  no  other  purpose  but  that  of  disturb- 
ing their  pleasures.” 

They  had  scarcely  returned  to  the  banquet, 
when  Fortune,  as  if  she  had  taken  pleasure  to 
confound  the  dexterity  of  Phyllidas,  raised  up  a 
new  and  most  alarming  danger.  A courier  ar- 
rived from  Athens  with  every  mark  of  haste 
and  trepidation,  desiring  to  see  Archies,  to 
whom  he  delivered  a letter  from  an  Athenian 
magistrate  of  the  same  name,  his  ancient  friend 
and  guest.  This  letter  revealed  the  conspiracy; 
a secret  not  entrusted  to  the  messenger,  who 
had  orders,  however,  to  request  Archias  to  read 
the  despatch  immediately,  as  containing  matters 
of  the  utmost  importance.  But  that  careless 
voluptuary,  whose  thoughts  were  totally  absorb- 
ed in  the  expected  scene  of  pleasure,  replied  with 
a smile,  “ Business  to-morrow;”  deposited  the 
letter  under  the  pillow  of  the  couch,  on  which, 
according  to  ancient  custom,  he  lay  at  the  enter- 
tainment ; and  resumed  his  conversation  with 
Phyllidas  concerning  the  ladies,  whom  he  had 
promised  to  introduce.  Matters  were  now 
come  to  a crisis ; Phyllidas  retired  for  a mo- 
ment ; the  conspirators  were  put  in  motion  ; 
their  weapons  concealed  under  the  flowing  swell 
of  female  attire,  and  their  countenances  over- 
shadowed and  hid  by  a load  of  crowns  and  gar- 


320 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


lands.  In  this  disguise  they  were  presented  to 
the  magistrates  intoxicated  with  wine  and  folly. 
At  a given  signal  they  drew  their  daggers,  and 
effected  their  purpose.1  Charon  and  Mello  were 
the  principal  actors  in  this  bloody  scene,  which 
was  entirely  directed  by  Pbyllidas.  But  a more 
difficult  task  remained.  Leontiades,  with  other 
abettors  of  the  tyranny,  still  lived,  to  avenge  the 
murder  of  their  associates.  The  conspirators, 
encouraged  by  their  first  success,  and  conducted 
by  Phyllidas,  gained  admission  into  their  houses 
successively,  by  means  of  the  unsuspected  secre- 
tary. On  the  appearance  of  disorder  and  tu- 
mult, Leontiades  seized  his  sword,  and  boldly 
prepared  for  his  defence.  Pelopidas  had  the 
merit  of  destroying  the  principal  author  of  the 
Theban  servitude  and  disgrace.  His  associates 
perished  without  resistance ; men  whose  names 
may  be  consigned  to  just  oblivion,  since  they 
■\yere  distinguished  by  nothing  memorable  but 
their  cruel  and  oppressive  tyranny. 

The  measures  of  the  conspirators  were  equally 
vigorous  and  prudent.  Before  alarming  the 
city,  they  proceeded  to  the  different  prisons, 
which  were  crowded  with  the  unfortunate  vic- 
tims of  arbitrary  power.  Every  door  was  open 
to  Phyllidas.  The  captives,  transported  wTith 
joy  and  gratitude,  increased  the  strength  of  their 
deliverers.  They  broke  open  the  arsenals,  and 
provided  themselves  with  arms.  The  streets  of 
Thebes  now  resounded  with  alarm  and  terror ; 
every  house  and  family  were  filled  with  confu- 
sion and  uproar ; the  inhabitants  were  univer- 
sally in  motion  ; some  providing  lights,  others 
running  in  wild  disorder  to  the  public  places, 
and  all  anxiously  wishing  the  return  of  day,  that 
they  might  discover  the  unknown  cause  of  this 
nocturnal  tumult. 

During  a moment  of  dreadful  silence,  which 
interrupted  the  noise  of  sedition,  a herald  pro- 
claimed, with  a clear  and  loud  voice,  the  death 
of  the  tyrants,  and  summoned  to  arms  the 
friends  of  liberty  and  the  republic.  Among 
others  w7ho  obeyed  the  wTelcome  invitation  was 
Epaminondas,  the  son  of  Polymnis,  a youth  of 
the  most  illustrious  merit ; ivho  united  the 
.wisdom  of  the  sage,  and  the  magnanimity  of 
the  hero,  with  the  practice  of  every  mild  and 
gentle  virtue  ; unrivalled  in  knowledge  and  in 
eloquence ; in  birth,  valour,  and  patriotism,  not 
inferior  to  Pelopidas,  with  whom  he  had. con- 
tracted an  early  friendship.  The  principles  of 
the  Pythagorean  philosophy,2  which  he  had 
diligently  studied  under  Lysis  of  Tarentum, 
rendered  Epaminondas  averse  to  engage  in  the 
conspiracy,  lest  he  might  imbue  his  hands  in 
civil  blood.3  But  when  the  sword  was  once 
drawn,  he  appeared  with  ardour  in  defence  of 
his  friends  and  country ; and  his  example  was 
followed  by  many  brave  and  generous  youths 
who  had  reluctantly  endured  the  double  yoke  of 
domestic  and  foreign  tyranny. 
qi  The  approach  of  morning  had 

c brought  the  Theban  exiles,  in  arms, 

A C 378  fr°m  *he  Thriasian  plain.  The  par- 
tisans of  the  conspirators  were  con- 


1 Xenoph.  p.  567.  Plutarch,  in  Pelopid.  Diodor.  1.  xv. 
p.  470. 

2 See  p.  141—146. 

3 Plutarch,  de  Genio  Socratis,  p.  279,  ct  passim. 


[Chap. 

tinually  increased  by  a confluence  of  new  aux- 
iliaries from  every  quarter  of  the  city.  En- 
compassed by  such  an  invincible  band  of  ad- 
herents, Pelopidas  and  his  associates  proceeded 
to  the  market-place  ; summoned  a general  as- 
sembly of  the  people  ; explained  the  necessity, 
the  object,  and  the  extent  of  the  conspiracy; 
and,  with  the  universal  approbation  of  their 
fellow  citizens,  restored  the  democratic  form 
of  government.4 

Exploits  of  valour  and  intrepidity  may  be  dis- 
covered in  the  history  of  every  nation.  But  the 
revolution  of  Thebes  displayed  not  less  wisdom 
of  design,  than  enterprising  gallantry  in  execu- 
tion. Amidst  the  tumult  of  action,  and  ardour 
of  victory,  the  conspirators  possessed  sufficient 
coolness  and  foresight  to  reflect  that  the  Cad- 
msea,  or  citadel,  which  was  held  by  a Lacedae- 
monian garrison  of  fifteen  hundred  men,  would 
be  reinforced,  on  the  first  intelligence  of  dan- 
ger, by  the  resentful  activity  of  Sparta.  To 
anticipate  this  alarming  event,  which  must 
have  rendered  the  consequences  of  the  conspi- 
racy incomplete  and  precarious,  they  command- 
ed the  messenger,  whom,  immediately  after  the 
destruction  of  the  tyrants,  they  had  despatched 
to  their  friends  in  the  Thriasian  plain,  to  pro- 
ceed to  Athens,  in  order  to  communicate  the 
newrs  of  a revolution  which  could  not  fail  to 
be  highly  agreeable  to  that  state,  and  to  solicit 
the  immediate  assistance  of  the  Athenians, 
whose  superior  skill  in  attacking  fortified 
places  was  acknowledged  by  Greeks  and  Bar- 
barians. This  message  was  attended  with  the 
most  salutary  effects.  The  acute  discernment 
of  the  Athenians  eagerly  seized  the  precious 
opportunity  of  weakening  Sparta,5  which,  if 
once  neglected,  might  never  return.  Several 
thousand  men  were  ordered  to  march  ; and  no 
time  was  lost,  either  in  the  preparation,  or  in 
the  journey,  since  they  reached  Thebes  the 
day  after  Pelopidas  had  re-established  the  de- 

The  seasonable  arrival  of  those 
auxiliaries,  whose  celerity  exceed- 
ed the  most  sanguine  hopes  of  the 
Thebans,  increased  the  ardour  of 
the  latter  to  attack  the  citadel.  The  events  of 
the  siege  are  variously  related.6  According  to 
the  most  probable  account,  the  garrison  made 
a very  feeble  resistance,  being  intimidated  by 
the  impetuous  alacrity  and  enthusiasm,  as  well 
as  the  increasing  numbers  of  the  assailants,  who 
already  amounted  to  fourteen  thousand  men, 
and  received  continual  accessions  of  strength 
from  the  neighbouring  cities  of  Boeotia.  Only 
a few  days  had  elapsed,  when  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians desired  to  capitulate,  on  condition  of  be- 
ing allowed  to  depart  in  safety  with  their  arms. 
Their  proposal  was  readily  accepted ; but  they 
seem  not  to  have  demanded,  or  at  least  not  to 
have  obtained,  any  terms  of  advantage  or  secu- 
rity for  those  unfortunate  Thebans,  whose  at- 
tachment to  the  Spartan  interest  strongly  soli- 
cited their  protection.  At  the  first  alarm  of 
sedition,  these  unhappy  men,  with  their  wives 


4 Xenoph.  Diodor,  et  Plutarch,  ibid. 

5 Dinarch.  Orat.  contra  Desmosth.  p.  100. 

6 Diodorus  differs  entirely  from  Xenophon  and  Plutarch, 

whom  I have  chiefly  followed. 


mocracy. 

Olymp. 
c.  3. 

A.  C.  378. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


* 321 


XXX. 


and  families,  had  taken  refuge  in  the  citadel. 
The  greater  part  of  them  cruelly  perished  by 
the  resentment  of  their  countrymen ; a remnant 
only  was  saved  by  the  humane  interposition 


of  the  Athenians.7  So  justly  had  Epaminon- 
das  suspected,  that  the  revolution  could  not 
be  accomplished  without  the  effusion  of  civil 
blood. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


The  Boeotian  war — Unsuccessful  attempt  of  Sphrodias  against  the  Pirceus — Doubts  concerning 
Xenophon’s  Account  of  that  transaction — Agesilaus  invades  Bceotia — Military  Success  of  the 
Thebans — Naval  Success  of  the  Athenians — Congress  for  Peace  under  the  Mediation  of  Arta- 
xerxes — Epaminondas , Deputy  from  Thebes — Cleombrotus  invades  Bceotia* — Battle  of  Leuctra — 
State  of  Greece — Jason  of  Thessaly — His  Character  and  Views — Assassinated  in  the  midst  of 
his  Projects. 


'jPHE  emancipation  of  Thebes  gave  a deep 
wound  to  the  pride  and  tyranny  of  Sparta; 
q,  and  the  magistrates  of  the  latter  re- 

c ^ public  prepared  to  punish,  with  due 

A C 378  severity’  what  they  affected  to  term 
' the  unprovoked  rebellion  of  their 
subjects.  The  Thebans  firmly  resolved  to  main- 
tain the  freedom  which  they  had  assumed ; and 
these  dispositions  on  both  sides  occasioned  a 
memorable  war,  which,  having  lasted  with  little 
interruption  during  seven  years,  ended  with  the 
battle  of  Leuctra,  which  produced  a total  revo- 
lution in  the  affairs  of  Greece. 

The  ardent  mind  of  Agesilaus  had  long  in- 
spired, or  directed,  the  ambitious  views  of  his 
country.  He  enjoyed  the  glory,  but  could  not 
avoid  the  odium,  attached  to  his  exalted  situa- 
tion; and  fearing  to  increase  the  latter,  he  al- 
lowed the  conduct  of  the  Theban  war  to  be 
committed  to  the  inexperience  of  his  unequal 
colleague.  In  the  heart  of  a severe  winter, 
Cleombrotus,  with  a well-appointed  army,  en- 
tered Boeotia.  His  presence  confirmed  the  obe- 
dience of  Thespia?,  Plattea,  and  other  inferior 
communities.  He  defeated  some  straggling  par- 
ties of  the  Thebans,  repelled  their  incursions, 
ravaged  their  territory,  burned  their  villages, 
but  attempted  not  to  make  any  impression  on 
the  well-defended  strength  of  their  city.  After 
a campaign  of  two  months,  he  returned  home, 
leaving  a numerous  garrison  in  Thespise,  com- 
manded by  Sphodrias,  a general  of  great  enter- 
prise, but  little  prudence. 

Mean  while  the  Athenians,  alarmed  by  the 
nearer  view  of  danger,  publicly  disavowed  the 
assistance  which  they  had  given  to  Thebes ; 
and  having  disgraced,  banished,  or  put  to 
death,8  the  advisers  of  that  daring  measure,  re- 
newed their  alliance  with  Sparta.  The  Thebans 
felt  the  full  importance  of  this  defection,  and 
left  nothing  untried  to  prevent  its  fatal  ten- 
dency, a design  (could  we  believe  tradition)  in 
which  they  succeeded  by  a very  singular  strata- 
gem. The  light  and  rash  character  of  Spho- 
drias was  well  known,  we  are  told,  to  the  The- 
ban chiefs,  who  employed  secret  emissaries  to 
persuade  him,  by  arguments  most  flattering  to 


7 Xenoph.  et  Plutarch,  ibid. 

8 Xonoph.  p.  334.  I have  endeavoured  to  reconcile 
Xenophon  and  Dinarchus,  cited  above. 

2 S 


his  passions,  to  attack  by  surprise  the  imper- 
fectly repaired  harbour  of  Athens.  These  art- 
ful ministers  of  deceit  represented  to  Sphodrias, 
that  it  was  unworthy  of  his  dignity,  and  of  his 
valour,  to  employ  the  arms  of  Sparta  in  a pre- 
datory war,  while  an  object  of  far  more  impor- 
tance and  glory  naturally  solicited  the  activity 
of  his  enterprising  mind.  “The  Thebans,  in- 
deed, were  vigilant  in  guard  ; and,  being  ani- 
mated by  the  enthusiasm  of  newly-recovered 
freedom,  were  determined,  rather  than  surren- 
der, to  bury  themselves  under  the  ruins  of  their 
country.  But  their  secret  and  perfidious  ally, 
whose  assistance  had  recently  enabled  them  to 
throw  off  the  Spartan  yoke,  was  lulled  in  secu- 
rity. The  moment  had  arrived  for  crushing 
the  implacable  hatred  of  the  Athenians,  by  sur- 
prising the  Piraeus,  their  principal  ornament 
and  defence ; an  action  which  would  bo  cele- 
brated by  posterity  above  the  kindred  glory  of 
Phcebidas,  who,  during  the  time  also  of  an 
insidious  peace,  had  seized  the  Theban  citadel.”3 
The  distance  between  Thebes  and  Thespiae, 
which  was  not  more  than  twenty  miles,  fur- 
nished an  easy  opportunity  for  carrying  on 
these  secret  practices  ; but  the  distance,  which 
exceeded  forty  miles,  between  Thebes  and 
Athens,  rendered  the  enterprise  of  Sphodrias 
abortive.  He  marched  from  Thespiae  with  the 
flower  of  his  garrison,  early  in  the  morning,  ex 
pecting  to  reach  the  Piraeus  before  the  dawn  of 
the  succeeding  day.  But  he  was  surprised  by 
the  return  of  light  in  the  Thriasian  plain.  The 
borough  of  Eleusis  was  alarmed;  the  report  flew 
to  Athens,  and  the  citizens,  with  their  usual  alac- 
rity, seized  their  arms,  and  prepared  for  a vigor 
ous  defence.  The  mad  design,  and  the  still 
greater  madness  of  Sphodrias,  in  ravaging  the 
country  during  his  retreat,  provoked  the  fury  of 
the  A thenians.  They  immediately  seized  the  per- 
sons of  such  Lacedaemonians  as  happened  to  re- 
side in  their  city.  They  sent  an  embassy  to  Spar- 
ta, complaining,  in  the  most  indignant  terms,  of 
the  insult  of  Sphodrias.  The  Spartans  disavow- 
ed his  conduct.  He  was  recalled  and  tried,  but 
saved  from  death  by  the  authority  of  Agesilaus. 
This  powerful  protection  was  obtained  by  the 
intercession  of  his  son  Cleonymus,  the  beloved 
companion  of  Archidamus,  the  son  and  succes- 


9 Xenoph.  p.  340.  Diodorus,  p.  472. 


325 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


sor  of  the  Spartan  king.  Archidamus  pleaded, 
with  the  modest  eloquence  of  tears,  for  the 
father  of  a friend,  his  equal  in  years  and  valour, 
with  whom  he  had  been  long  united,  in  the 
most  tender  affection.  Cleonymus  declared  on 
this  occasion,  that  he  should  never  disgrace  the 
ardent  attachment  of  the  royal  youth:  and 
illustrious  as  Archidamus  afterwards  became, 
Xenophon  affirms,  that  his  early  and  unaltera- 
ble love  of  Cleonymus  forms  not  the  shade,  but 
rather  the  fairest  light,  of  his  amiable  and  ex- 
alted character.1 

Such  is  the  account  of  this  transaction, 
given  originally  by  Xenophon,  and  faithfully 
copied  by  other  writers,  ancient  and  modern. 
But  there  is  some  reason  to  suspect  that  Age- 
silaus  was  not  totally  unacquainted  with  the 
ambitious  and  unwarrantable  design  of  Spho- 
drias ; that  the  Spartans  would  have  approved 
the  measure,  had  it  been  crowned  with  success; 
and  that  even  the  philosophic  Xenophon,  a par- 
tial admirer  of  Agesilaeus  and  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians, has  employed  the  persuasive  simplicity 
of  his  inimitable  style,  to  varnish  a very  unjus- 
tifiable transaction.  Such,  at  least,  it  appeared 
to  the  Athenian  assembly,  who,  offended  by  the 
crime,  were  still  more  indignant  at  the  acquit-' 
tal,  of  Sphodrias.  From  that  time  they  began 
to  prepare  their  fleet,  to  enlist  sailors,  to  collect 
and  to  employ  all  the  materials  of  war,  with  a 
resolution  firmly  to  maintain  the  cause  of 
Thebes  and  their  own. 

q.  While  they  were  busied  in  such 

c 4 preparations,  Agesilaus  repeatedly 

A C 377  lnva(^e<^  Boeotia,  without  perform- 
et  Olvmp.  ing  any  thin?  worthy  of  his  former 

i ^ P’  renown.  His  army  amounted  to 
A*  c'  270  eighteen  thousand  foot,  and  fifteen 
hundred  horse.  The  enemy  were 
assisted  by  a considerable  body  of  mercenaries, 
commanded  by  Chabrias  the  Athenian,  who 
finally  repelled  the  Spartan  king  from  Thebes, 
by  a stratagem  not  less  simple  than  uncommon. 
The  Theban  army  prepared  to  act  on  the  de- 
fensive against  a superior  force,  and  occupied  a 
rising  ground  in  the  neighbourhood  of  their 
city.  Agesilaus  detached  a body  of  light-armed 
troops,  to  provoke  them  to  quit  this  advanta- 
geous post;  but  the  Thebans  cautiously  main- 
tained their  ground,  and  obliged  the  enemy  to 
draw  out  their  whole  forces,  in  order  to  dis- 
lodge them.  Chabrias,  waiting  their  approach, 
commanded  his  troops  to  execute  a new  move- 
‘ment,  which  he  had  recently  taught  them  for 
such  an  emergency.  They  supported  their  ad- 
vanced bodies  on  their  left  knee,  extended  their 
shields  and  spears,  and  thus  firmly  maintained 
their  ranks.2  Alarmed  at  the  determined  bold- 


1 Xenoph.  p.  570. 

2 The  words  of  Nepos,  in  Chabria,  are  better  explained 
by  reading;,  Q.ui  obnixo  genu  scuto,  pro  jactaque  hasta, 
impetum  excipere  hostium  docuit.”  This  agrees  with  the 
statue  of  Chabria9  in  the  Villa  Borghese,  whose  singular 
attitude  has  given  so  much  trouble  to  antiquaries.  Winkel- 
man  conjectures  this  master-piece  of  art  to  be  the  most  an- 
cient statue  in  Rome,  from  the  form  of  the  letters  in  the 
name  Agasias  with  which  it  is  inscribed.  He  observes, 
that  it  is  erroneously  supposed  to  be  a gladiator,  since  the 
Greeks  never  honoured  gladiators  with  such  monuments  ; 
and  the  style  of  the  workmanship  proves  it  more  ancient 
than  the  introduction  of  that  inhuman  spectacle  into  Greece. 
The  body  of  the  statue  is  advanced  and  rests  on  the  left 


[Chap. 

ness  of  an  unusual  array,  which  seemed  to  bid 
him  defiance,  Agesilaus  withdrew  his  army 
from  the  capital,  and  contented  himself  with 
committing  further  ravages  on  the  country. 

Olvmp  ci  2 In  the  skirmishes  wkich  hap- 
\ C 375*  Pene(l  after  his  retreat,  the  The- 
bans proved  repeatedly  victori- 
ous. He  returned  home,  and  continued,  at 
Sparta  during  the  following  year,  to  be  cured 
of  his  wounds ; where  he  suffered  the  mortify- 
ing reproaches  of  his  adversary  Antalcidas,  “for 
teaching  the  Thebans  to  conquer.”  The  gene- 
rals who  succeeded  him  had  not  better  success. 
Phcebidas,  the  original  author  of  the  war,  who 
had  been  appointed  governor  of  Thespis,  was 
defeated  and  slain,  wfith  the  greatest  part  of  the 
garrison  of  that  place.  Pelopidas,  with  his 
own  hand,  killed  the  Spartan  commander  in 
the  action  at  Tanagra;  and  in  the  pitched  bat- 
tle of  Tegyra,  the  Lacedaemonians,  though 
superior  in  number,  were  broken  and  put  to 
flight;  a disgrace  which,  they  reflected  with 
sorrow,  had  never  befallen  them  in  any  former 
engagement. 

Olvmo  While  the  war  was  thus  carried 

cj  j * ' on  by  land,  the  Athenians  put  to 

A*  C 376  sea’  anc*  £a*ne(*  most  distin- 
guished advantages  on  their  favour- 
ite element.  The  Lacedaemonian  fleet,  of  sixty 
sail,  commanded  by  Pollis,  was  shamefully  de- 
feated near  the  isle  of  Naxos,  by  the  skilful 
bravery  of  Chabrias,  ■who  performed  alternately, 
and  with  equal  abilities,  the  duties  of  admiral 
and  general.3  But  the  principal  scene  of  ac- 
tion was  the  Ionian  sea,  where  Timotheus4  and 
Iphicrates  every  where  prevailed  over  the  com- 
manders who  opposed  them.  The  fleet  of 
Sparta  was  totally  ruined  by  the  victors,  who 
repeatedly  ravaged  the  coasts  of  Laconia,5  and 
laid  under  heavy  contributions  the  islands  of 
Corcyra,  Zacinbhus,  Leucadia,  and  Cephalenia. 
Even  the  isles  and  cities  more  remote  from  the 
scene  of  this  naval  war,  particularly  the  valua- 
ble island  of  Chios,  and  the  important  city  of 
Byzantium,  deserted  their  involuntary  connec- 
tion with  the  declining  fortune  of  Sparta,  and 
once  more  accepted  the  dangerous  alliance  of 
the  Athenians.6 

These  hostile  operations,  which  weakened, 
without  subduing,  the  spirit  of  the  vanquished, 
were  interrupted  by  the  solicitations  and  bribes 
of  the  king  of  Persia,  who  earnestly  promoted 
the  domestic  tranquillity  of  Greece,  that  he 
might  enjoy  the  assistance  of  its  arms  in  crush- 
ing a new  rebellion  in  Egypt.  His  emissaries 
met  with  equal  success  in  Athens  and  Sparta, 
which  were  alike  weary  of  the  war,  the  former 


thish;  the  right  arm  grasps  a javelin,  or  spear;  around  the 

left  is  seen  a leather  thong,  or  handle  of  a shield.  It  seems, 
says  Winkelman,  the  particular  attitude  of  a warrior  on 
some  dangerous  emergency.  What  this  emergency  was, 
the  learned  and  ingenious' Lessing  fortunately  discovered, 
by  the  words  of  Cornelius  Nepo9.  “ Hoc  (the  stratagem  of 
Chabrias)  usque  eo  tota  Grcecia  fama  celebratum  est,  ut 
illo  statu  Chabrias  sibi  statuam  fieri  voluerit,  qua  pub- 
lice  ei  ab  Atheniensibus  in  foro  constitutaest” 

3 Xenoph.  p.  577.  Diodor.  1.  xv.  ad  Olymp.  ci.  1. 

4 Corn.  Nep.  in  Vit.  Timoth.  et  Dinarch.  adv.  Demosth. 
Such  was  the  good  fortune  of  Timotheus,  that  the  satirical 
artists  of  the  times  painted  him  asleep,  covered  with  a net, 
in  which  the  cities  and  islands  entangled  and  caught  them- 
selves. Plutarch,  de  invid.  et  odio. 

5 Xenoph.  p.  578.  6 Id.  ibid. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


323 


XXX.] 

having  little  more  to  hope,  and  the  latter  hav- 
ing every  thing  to  fear,  from  its  continuance. 
Many  of  the  inferior  states,  being  implicitly 
governed  by  the  resolves  of  these  powerful  re- 
publics, readily  imitated  their  example.  And 
so  precarious  and  miserable  was  the  condition 
of  them  all,  in  that  disorderly  period,  that  about 
twenty  thousand  men  abandoned  their  homes 
and  families,  and  followed  the  standard  of  the 
Persians.  The  merit  of  Iphicrates  justly  enti- 
tled him  to  the  command  of  his  countrymen, 
which  was  unanimously  conferred  on  him.  But 
the  expedition  produced  nothing  worthy  of 
such  a general,  who  in  a few  months  returned 
to  Athens,  disgusted  with  the  ignorant  pride, 
and  slothful  timidity,  of  the  Persian  command- 
ers, who  durst  not  undertake  any  important 
enterprise,  without  receiving  the  slow  instruc- 
tions of  a distant  court.7 

Mean  while  the  Thebans,  who, 
c-  P*  elated  by  a flow  of  unwonted  pros- 
A*  C 374  Per^y’  had  Proudly  disregarded  the 
representations  of  Artaxerxes,  pro- 
fited of  the  temporary  diversion  made  by  the 
Egyptian  war,  to  reduce  several  inferior  cities 
of  Boeotia.  The  walls  of  Thespiae  were  rased 
to  the  ground  ; Plataea  met  with  the  same  fate  ; 
and  its  inhabitants,  after  suffering  the  cruellest 
indignities,  were  driven  into  banishment.  It 
might  be  expected  that  the  unfortunate  exiles 
should  have  sought  refuge  in  Sparta,  whose 
authority  they  had  uniformly  acknowledged, 
since  the  dishonourable  peace  of  Antalcidas. 
But  so  dissimilar  were  the  fluctuating  politics 
of  Greece  to  the  regular  transactions  of  mo- 
dern times  (governed  by  the  lifeless  but  steady 
principle  of  interest,)  that  the  Plataeans  had  re- 
course to  Athens,  a city  actually  in  alliance 
with  the  people  by  whom  they  had  been  so  un- 
justly persecuted.  Their  eloquence,  their  tears, 
the  memory  of  past  services,  and  the  promise 
of  future  gratitude,  prevailed  on  the  Athenian 
assembly,  who  kindly  received  them  into  the 
bosom  of  their  republic,  and  expressed  the 
warmest  indignation  against  their  insolent  op- 
pressors.8 

This  affecting  transaction  threat- 
ened to  deprive  the  Thebans  of  an 
ally,  to  whom  they  were  in  a great 
measure  indebted  for  their  prospe- 
Their  subsequent  conduct  tended  still 


Olymp. 
cii.  1. 

A.  C.  372. 


rity. 

farther  to  widen  the  breach.  They  marched 
troops  into  Phocis,  with  an  intention  to  reduce 
that  country.  They  heard  with  equal  disdain, 
the  remonstrances  of  their  friends,  and  the 
threats  of  their  enemies.  Their  unusual  arro- 
gance totally  alienated  the  Athenians,  who 
seemed  finally  disposed  to  conclude  a lasting 
peace  with  Sparta,  on  the  principles  of  the 
treaty  of  Antalcidas,  that  their  respective  gar- 
risons should  be  withdrawn  from  foreign  parts, 
and  the  communities,  small  as  well  as  great, 
be  permitted  to  enjoy  the  independent  govern- 
ment of  their  own  equitable  laws.  The  inte- 
rest of  the  king  of  Persia,  who  still  needed 
fresh  supplies  to  carry  on  the  Egyptian  war, 


induced  him  to  employ  his  good  offices  for  pro- 
moting this  specious  purpose;  and  a conven- 
tion of  all  the  states  was  summoned  to  Sparta, 
whither  the  Thebans  deigned  indeed  to  send  a 
representative ; but  a representative,  whose 
firmness  and  magnanimity  were  well  fitted  to 
sustain  and  elevate  the  aspiring  pretensions  of 
his  republic. 

In  effecting  this  glorious  revolution,  which 
gave  freedom  to  Thebes,  as  well  as  in  the  mili- 
tary operations,  which  immediately  followed 
that  important  event,  the  youthful  merit  of  Pe- 
lopidas  had  acquired  the  fame  of  patriotism, 
valour,  and  conduct.  The  nobility  of  his  birth, 
and  the  generous  use  of  his  riches,  increased 
the  ascendant  due  to  his  illustrious  services. 
Every  external  advantage,  the  manly  grace  of 
his  person,  the  winning  affability  of  his  de- 
portment, his  superior  excellence  in  the  martial 
exercises  so  highly  prized  by  the  Greeks,  and 
especially  by  the  Thebans,  gained  him  the  ad- 
miration of  the  multitude  ; or,  in  other  words, 
of  the  legislative  assembly  of  his  country.  He 
had  been  successively  elected,  during  six  years, 
to  the  first  dignity  of  the  republic  ; nor  had 
the  Thebans  ever  found  reason  to  repent  their 
choice.9  Yet  in  the  present -emergency,  when 
they  were  required  to  appoint  a deputy  for  the 
convention  at  Sparta  (the  most  important 
charge  with  which  any  citizen  could  be  en- 
trusted,) Pelopidas,  with  all  his  merit,  was  not 
the  minister  whom  they  thought  proper  to  em- 
pioy. 

Epaminondas,  naturally  his  rival,  but  always 
his  friend,  had  hitherto  been  contented  with  a 
subordinate  station  : yet  every  office  which  he 
exercised,  whether  in  the  civil  or  military  de- 
partment, derived  new  lustre  from  his  personal 
dignity.  His  exterior  accomplishments  were 
not  inferior  to  those  of  Pelopidas  ; but  he  had 
learned  from  the  philosophy  of  Lysis  the  Py- 
thagorean, to  prefer  the  mind  to  the  body,  me- 
rit to  fame,  and  the  rewards  of  virtue  to  the 
gifts  of  fortune.  He  resisted  the  generous  so- 
licitations of  his  friends  to  deliver  him  from  the 
honourable  poverty  in  which  hq  was  born ; 
continuing  poor  from  taste  and  choice,  and 
justly  delighting  in  a situation,  which  is  more 
favourable,  especially  in  a democratical  repub- 
lib,  to  that  freedom  and  independence  of  mind 
which  wisdom  recommends  as  the  greatest 
good.  Nor  was  he  more  careless  of  money 
than  avaricious  of  time,  which  he  continually 
dedicated  to  the  study  of  learning  and  philo- 
sophy, or  employed  in  the  exercise  of  public 
and  private  virtue.  Yet  to  become  useful  ho 
was  not  desirous  to  be  great.  The  same  soli- 
citude which  others  felt  to  obtain,  Epaminon- 
das showed  to  avoid,  the  dangerous  honours  of 
his  country.  His  ambitious  temper  would  have 
been  better  satisfied  to  direct,  by  a personal  in- 
fluence with  the  magistrates,  the  administra- 
tion of  government  from  the  bosom  of  his  be- 
loved retirement,10  when  the  unanimous  voice 
of  the  citizens,  and  still  more  the  urgency  of 
the  times,  called  him  to  public  life ; and  such 


7 Corn.  Nepos.  in  Iphicrat.  Diodorus,  1.  xv.  ad  Olymp. 

c.  iv. 

8 Diodor.  l.xv.  ad  Olymp.  ct  Isocrat.  Orat.  pro  Plat. 


f)  Pint,  in  Pclopid. 

10  The  conduct  of  Epaminondas  coincides  with,  and 
confirms,  the  account  above  given  of  the  Pythagorean  phi 
losophy 


324 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


was  his  contempt  for  the  glory  of  a name,  that 
had  he  lived  in  a less  turbulent  period,  his  ex- 
alted qualities,  however  admired  by  select 
friends,  would  have  probably  remained  un- 
known to  his  contemporaries  and  posterity. 

Such  was  the  man  to  whose 
ymp.  abilities  and  eloquence  the  The- 
C ^79  kans  committed  the  defence  of  their 
’ ’ ' most  important  interests  in  the  ge- 

neral congress  of  the  Grecian  states.  The 
Athenians  sent  Antocles  and  Callistratus  ; the 
first  a subtile,1  the  second  an  affecting  orator.2 
Agesilaus  himself  appeared  on  the  part  of 
Sparta.  Matters  were  easily  adjusted  between 
those  leading  republics,  who  felt  equal  resent- 
ment at  the  unhappy  fate  of  Thespis  and  Pla- 
taea.  They  lamented  their  mutual  jealousy, 
and  unfortunate  ambition,  which  had  occa- 
sioned so  many  bloody  and  destructive  wars  ; 
and  commemorated  the  short  but  glorious  in- 
tervals of  moderation  and  concord,  which  had 
tended  so  evidently  to  their  own  and  the  pub- 
lic felicity.  Instructed  by  fatal  experience,  it 
was  time  for  them  to  lay  down  their  arms,  and 
to  allow  that  tranquillity  to  themselves  and  to 
their  neighbours,  which  was  necessary  to  heal 
the  wounds  of  their  common  country.  The 
peace  could  not  be  useful  or  permanent,  unless 
it  were  established  on  the  liberal  principles  of 
equality  and  freedom,  to  which  all  the  Grecian 
communities  were  alike  entitled  by  the  treaty 
of  Antalcidas.  It  was  proposed,  therefore,  to 
renew  that  salutary  contract,  which  was  ac- 
cepted by  the  unanimous  consent  of  Athens, 
of  Sparta,  and  of  their  respective  confederates. 

Epaminondas3  then  stood  up,  offering  to  sign 
the  treaty  in  the  name  of  the  Boeotians.  “ The 
Athenians,”  he  took  notice,  “ had  signed  for 
all  the  inhabitants  of  Attica  ; the  Spartans  had 
signed  not’  only  for  the  cities  of  Laconia,  but 
for  their  numerous  allies  in  all  the  provinces 
of  the  Peloponnesus.  Thebes  was  entitled  to 
the  same  prerogatives  over  her  dependent  cities, 
which  had  anciently  acknowledged  the  power 
of  her  kings,  and  had  recently  submitted  to  the 
arms  of  her  citizens.”  Agesilaus,  instead  of 
answering  directly  a demand  which  could  nei- 
ther be  granted  with  honour,  nor  denied  with 
justice,  asked,  in  his  turn,  Whether  it  was  the 
intention  of  the  Thebans  to  admit,  in  terms  of 
the  treaty,  the  independence  of  Bceotia  ? Epa- 
minondas demanded,  Whether  it  was  the  in- 
tention of  Sparta  to  admit  the  independence 
of  Laconia  ? w Shall  the  Boeotians,”  said  the 
king,  with  emotion,  “ be  free  ?”  “ Whenever,” 
replied  Epaminondas  with  firmness,  u you  re- 
store freedom  to  the  Lacedaemonians,  the  Mes- 
senians,  and  the  oppressed  communities  of  Pe- 
loponnesus, whom,  under  the  name  of  allies, 
you  retain  in  an  involuntary  and  rigorous  ser- 
vitude.” 


1 E?r«<rTfe<p>)j  g^ruig.  Xenoph.  1.  vi. 

2 The  pathetic  pleadin?  of  Callistratus,  for  the  citizens 
of  Oropus,  first  inspired  Demosthenes  with  the  ambition  of 
eloquence.  Plut.  in  Demosth. 

3 The  convention  of  Sparta  is  noticed  by  Xenophon, 
Diodorus,  Plutarch,  and  Cornelius  Nepos.  The  first  writer 
is  silent  with  regard  to  Epaminondas.  Plutarch  and  Cor- 
nelius Nepos  furnish  the  hints  which  I have  made  use  of  in 

the  text.  It  is  not  impossible  that  there  were  two  conven- 

tions, at  different  times,  respecting  the  same  object.  In  that 
•case,  Xenophon  must  have  totally  onjittcd  one  of  them. 


[Ciiap. 

Then  turning  to  the  deputies  of  the  allies,  he 
represented  to  them  the  cruel  mockery  by  which 
they  were  insulted.  “ Summoned  to  deliberate 
concerning  the  general  freedom  and  indepen- 
dence, they  were  called  to  ratify  a peace, 
which,  instead  of  establishing  these  invaluable 
and  sacred  rights,  confirmed  the  stern  tyranny 
of  an  imperious  master.”  That  “ the  cities, 
small  and  great,  should  be  free,”  was  the  ver- 
bal condition  of  the  treaty ; but  its  real  drift 
and  import  was,  that  Thebes  should  give  free- 
dom to  Bceotia,  and  thereby  weaken  her  own 
strength,  while  Sparta  kept  in  subjection  the 
extensive  territories  of  her  confederates,  in 
whose  name  she  had  signed  that  perfidious 
contract,  and  whose  assistance  she  expected, 
and  could  demand,  towards  giving  it  immediate 
effect.  If  the  allies  persisted  in  their  actual 
resolution,  they  consented  to  destroy  the  power 
of  Thebes,  which  was  the  only  bulwark  to  de- 
fend them  against  Spartan  usurpation : they 
consented  to  continue  the  payment  of  those  in- 
tolerable contributions  with  which  they  had 
long  been  oppressed ; and  to  obey  every  idle 
summons  to  war,  of  which  they  chiefly  suffered 
the  fatigues  and  dangers,  while  the  advantage 
and  glory  redounded  to  the  Spartans  alone.  If 
they  felt  any  respect  for  the  glorious  name  of 
their  ancestors ; if  they  entertained  any  sense 
of  their  own  most  precious  interests,  they 
would  be  so  little  disposed  to  promote  the  re- 
duction of  Thebes,  that  they  would  imitate 
the  auspicious  example  of  that  ancient  and  no- 
ble city,  which  had  acquired  the  dignity  of  in- 
dependent government,  not  by  inscriptions4  and 
treaties,  but  by  arms  and  valour. 

The  just  remonstrances  of  Epaminondas 
made  a deep  impression  on  the  deputies.  Agesi- 
laus, alarmed  at  its  effect,  answered  him  in  a 
strain  very  different  from  that  despotic  brevity5 
which  the  Spartans  usually  affected.  His 
speech  was  long  and  eloquent.  He  reasoned, 
prayed,  threatened.  The  deputies  were  awed 
into  submission,  less  perhaps  by  the  force  of  his 
eloquence,  than  by  the  terror  of  the  Spartan 
armies  ready  to  take  the  field.  But  the  words 
of  Epaminondas  sunk  deep  into  their  hearts. 
They  communicated,  at  their  return,  the  pow- 
erful impression  to  their  constituents ; and  its 
influence  was  visible  in  the  field  of  Leuctra, 
and  in  the  events  which  followed  that  memora- 
ble engagement. 

As  the  Grecian  states  were  accustomed  to 
grant  more  unreserved  powers  to  their  generals 
and  ministers,  than  are  allowed  by  the  practice 
of  modern  times,  we  must  be  contented  to 
doubt,  whether,  in  this  important  negotiation, 
Epaminondas  acted  merely  by  the  extemporary 
impulse  of  his  own  mind,  or  only  executed, 
with  boldness  and  dignity,  the  previous  instruc- 
tions of  his  republic.  It  is  certain,  that  his  re- 
fusal to  acknowledge  the  freedom  of  Bceotia, 
not  only  excluded  Thebes  from  the  treaty,  but 
exposed  her  to  the  immediate  vengeance  of  the 
confederates ; and  according  to  the  received 
principles  of  modern  policy,  there  is  reason  to 

4 The  public,  deeds  and  transactions  of  the  Greeks  wero 
inscribed  on  pillars  of  marble.  Thucyd.  et  Xenoph.  passim 

5 Epaminondas  said,  or  more  probably  it  was  said  for 
him,  that  he  had  compelled  the  Spartans  to  lengthen  their 
monosyllables.  Plut.  in  Agesil. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


325 


XXX.] 

accuse  both  the  prudence  and  the  justice  of  the 
admired  Theban ; his  prudence,  in  provoking 
the  strength  of  a confederacy,  with  which  the 
weakness  of  any  single  republic  seemed  totally 
unable  to  contend  ; and  his  justice,  in  denying 
to  several  communities  of  Boeotia  their  heredi- 
tary laws  and  government.  Yet  the  conduct  of 
Epaminondas  has  never  been  exposed  to  such 
odious  reproaches.  Success  justified  his  auda- 
city ; and  the  Greeks,  animated  by  an  ambi- 
tious enthusiasm  to  aggrandise  their  respective 
cities,  were  taught  to  dignify  by  the  names  of 
patriotism  and  magnanimity,  qualities  which, 
in  the  sober  judgment  of  posterity,  would  be 
degraded  by  very  different  appellations.  There 
are  reasons,  however,  not  merely  specious,  by 
which  Epaminondas  might  justify  his  conduct 
at  an  impartial  bar.  He  could  not  be  ignorant 
that  Thebes,  unassisted  and  alone,  was  unable 
to  cope  with  the  general  confederacy  of  Greece: 
but  he  knew  that  this  confederacy  would  never 
exist  but  in  words,  since  the  jealousy  of  several 
states,  and  particularly  of  Athens,  would  be  dis- 
posed rather  to  commiserate,  than  to  increase, 
the  calamities  of  a people  at  variance  with 
Sparta.6  He  perceived  the  effect  of  his  spirited 
remonstrances  on  the  most  steadfast  adherents 
of  that  republic;  and  contemplating  the  circum- 
stances of  his  country,  and  of  the  enemy,  he 
found  several  motives  of  encouragement  to  the 
seeming  unequal  contest. 

The  Spartans  had  been  weakened  by  the  de- 
fection and  loss  of  their  dominions,  and  dejected 
by  their  unfortunate  attempts  to  recover  them. 
They  had  been  deprived  of  their  prescriptive 
honours,  and  had  forsaken  their  hereditary 
maxims.  Their  ancient  and  venerable  laws 
had  in  a great  measure  ceased  to  govern  them; 
and  the  seeds  of  those  corruptions  were  already 
sown,  which  have  been  censured  by  philoso- 
phers and  statesmen  with  equal  justice  and  se- 
verity.7 Nor  were  they  exposed  to  the  usual 
misfortunes,  only,  of  a degenerate  people  ; the 
institutions  of  Lycurgus  formed  one  consistent 
plan  of  legislation,  which  ctmld  not  be  par- 
tially observed  and  partially  neglected.  While 
the  submissive  disciples  of  that  extraordi- 
nary lawgiver  remained  satisfied  with  their 
simplicity  of  manners,  their  poverty,  and  their 
virtue,  and  had  scarcely  any  other  object  in 
view,  but  to  resist  the  solicitations  of  pleasure, 
and  to  repel  the  encroachments  of  enemies, 
the  law,  which  discouraged  a commercial  in- 
tercourse with  foreign  nations,  and  which  ex- 
cluded strangers,  whatever  merit  they  might 
possess,  from  aspiring  to  the  rank  of  citizens, 
was  an  establishment  strictly  comformable  to  the 
peculiar  spirit  of  the  Lacedaemonian  constitution. 
But  when  Sparta  abandoned  the  simplicity  of 
her  primitive  maxims,  became  ambitious, 
wealthy,  triumphant,  and  almost  continually 
engaged  in  war,  not  as  the  means  of  defence, 
but  as  the  instrument  of  power  and  conquest, 
consistency  required  that  she  should  have  laid 
aside  her  pretensions  to  those  exclusive  honours 
which  she  no  longer  deserved.  When  she  re- 
linquished the  virtuous  pre-eminence  of  her  an- 


6 Xenophon  hints  at  this  disposition,  1.  vi.  p.  608. 

7 Aristot.  Politic.  1.  ii.  c.  9. 


cestors,  the  warlike  inhabitants  of  Peloponnesus 
were  not  unworthy  to  be  ranked  with  her  citi- 
zens ; and  by  admitting  them  to  this  honour, 
she  would  have  given  them  an  interest  in  her 
victories,  and  rendered  them  willing  partners 
of  her  danger.  But,  instead  of  adopting  this 
generous  policy,  which  possibly  might  have  ren- 
dered her  what  Rome,  with  more  wisdom  in- 
deed, but  not  with  more  virtue  or  more  valour, 
afterwards  became,  the  mistress  of  the  world, 
she  increased  he  pretensions  in  proportion  to 
the  decline  of  her  merit;  spurned  the  inequality 
of  a fcederal  union,  to  which  the  Peloponnesians 
were  entitled;  deprived  even  the  Lacedaemoni- 
ans of  their  just  share  in  the  government,  and 
concentrated  all  power  and  authority  within  the 
senate  and  assembly  of  Sparta.  A long  course 
of  almost  uninterrupted  hostilities  had  deprived 
her  of  the  best  half  of  her  citizens,  whose  num- 
bers were  continually  diminishing,  without  the 
possibility  of  ever  being  repaired  ; nor  could  it 
be  difficult  to  overthrow  an  empire  which  de- 
pended on  the  address  and  bravery  of  about  four 
thousand  warriors,  the  splendour  of  a great 
name,  and  the  reluctant  assistance  of  insulted 
allies  and  oppressed  subjects.6 

The  consideration  of  these  circumstances, 
which  could  not  fail  to  present  themselves  to  the 
sagacity  of  Epaminondas,  might  have  encour- 
aged him  to  set  the  threats  of  his  adversaries  at 
defiance,  especially  when  he  reflected  on  the 
actual  condition  of  Thebes,  whose  civil  and 
military  institutions  had  recently  acquired  new 
spirit  and  fresh  vigour. 

The  Thebans,  with  their  subjects  or  neigh- 
bours in  Boeotia,  had  been  long  regardbd  as  an 
unworthy  and  faithless  race,  with  strong  bodies 
but  ignoble  souls,  and  infamous  among  the 
Greeks,  on  account  of  their  ancient  alliance  with 
Xerxes  and  the  Barbarians.  The  divine  genius 
of  Pindar  had  not  redeemed  them  from  the  cha- 
racter of  a sluggish  and  heavy  people,  noted 
even  to  a proverb  for  stupidity .9  From  the  age 
of  that  inimitable  writer,  they  appear,  indeed, 
to  have  been  little  addicted  to  the  pursuit  of 
mental  excellence ; but  they  uniformly  continued 
to  cultivate,  with  peculiar  care,  the  gymnastic 
exercises,  which  gave  the  address  and  dexterity 
of  art  to  the  ponderous  strength  of  their  gigan- 
tic members.  To  acquire  renown  in  war,  such 
people  only  wanted  that  spark  of  etherial  fire 
which  is  kindled  by  a generous  emulation.  The 
tyranny  of  Sparta  first  animated  their  inactive 
languor.  Having  spurned  an  oppressive  yoke, 
they  boldly  maintained  their  freedom  ; and,  in 
the  exercise  of  defensive  war,  gained  many  ho- 
nourable trophies  over  enemies  who  had  long 
despised  them.  Success  enlivened  their  hopes, 
inflamed  their  ambition,  and  gave  a certain 
elevation  to  their  national  character,  which 
rendered  them  as  ambitious  of  war  and  victory, 


8 The  condition  of  Sparta,  represented  in  the  text,  is 
taken  from  the  history  of  the  times  in  Xenophon  and  Dio- 
dorus, from  Aristotla’s  Politics,  1.  ii.  c.  9.  the  Oration  of 
Archidamus,  and  the  Panathaniean  Oration  of  Isocrates. 
The  last  writer  reduces  the  number  of  Spartan  citizens  to 
two  thousand  ; a diminution  principally  occasioned  by  the 
battles  of  Leuctra  and  Mantina;a  which  happened  a con- 
siderable time  before  the  composition  of  that  discourse. 

9 Uceotum  in  crasso  jurares  aero  natum.  Hor.  Epist.  j, 
1.  II. 


326 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE 


ds  they  had  formerly  been  anxious  for  peace 
und  preservation.  Theyhad  introduced  a severe 
system  of  military  discipline  ; they  had  con- 
siderably improved  the  arms  and  exercise  of 
cavalry ; they  had  adopted  various  modes  of 
arranging  their  forces  in  order  of  battle,  superior 
to  those  practised  by  their  neighbours.  Emula- 
tion, ardour,  mutual  esteem,  and  that  spirit  of 
combination,  which  often  prevails  in  turbulent 
and  distracted  times,  had  united  a considerable 
number  of  their  citizens  in  the  closest  engage- 
ments, and  inspired  them  with  the  generous 
resolution  of  braving  every  danger  in  defence  of 
each  other.  This  association  originally  consist- 
ed of  about  three  hundred  men,  in  the  prime  of 
life,  and  of  tried  fidelity,  and  commanded  by 
Pelopidas,  the  glorious  restorer  of  his  country’s 
freedom.  From  the  inviolable  sanctity  of  their 
friendship,  they  were  called  the  Sacred  Band, 
and  their  valour  was  as  permanent  as  their 
friendship.  During  a long  succession  of  years, 
they  proved  victorious  wherever  they  fought ; 
and  at  length  fell  together,  with  immortal  glory, 
in  the  field  of  Chseronsea,  with  the  fall  of  Thebes, 
of  Athens,  and  of  Greece.  Such,  in  general, 
were  the  circumstances  and  condition  of  those 
rival  republics,* 1  when  they  were  encouraged  by 
Iheir  respective  chiefs  to  decide  their  preten- 
sions by  the  event  of  a battle. 

In  the  interval  of  several  months,  between  the 
p.,  congress  at  Sparta  and  the  invasion 

Cf  Bceotia,  Agesilaus  and  his  son 
A C 371  Archidamus  collected  the  domestic 
strength  of  their  republic,  and  sum- 
moned the  tardy  aid  of  their  confederates.  Sick- 
ness prevented  the  Spartan  king  from  taking 
the  field  in  person ; but  his  advice  prevailed 
with  the  ephori  and  senate,  to  command  his 
colleague  Cleombrotus  (who,  in  the  former 
year,  had  conducted  a considerable  body  of 
troops  into  Phocis,  in  order  to  repel  the  The- 
bans from  that  country,)  to  march  without  delay 
into  the  hostile  territory,  with  assurance  of 
being  speedily  joined  by  a powerful  reinforce- 
ment. The  rendezvous  was  appointed  in  the 
plain  of  Leuctra,  which  surrounded  an  obscure 
village  of  the  same  name,  situate  on  the  Boeo- 
tian frohtier,  almost  at  the  equal  distance  of  ten 
miles  from  the  sea  and  from  Platoea.  The  plain 
was  encompassed  on  all  sides  by  the  lofty 
ridges  of  Helicon,  Cithaeron,  and  Cynocephalae; 
and  the  village  was  hitherto  remarkable  only 
for  the  tomb  of  two  Theban  damsels,  the 
daughters  of  Scedasus,  who  had  been  violated 
by  the  brutality  of  three  Spartan  youths.  The 
dishonoured  females  had  ended  their  disgrace 
by  at  voluntary  death  ; and  the  afflicted  father 
had  imitated  the  example  of  their  despair,  after 
imploring  vengeance  in  vain  from  gods  and 
men.2 

The  Spartans  and  their  confederates  joined 
forces  in  this  neighbourhood,  after  repelling  a 
few  Theban  detachments  w^iich  guarded  the 
defiles  of  Mount  Helicon.  Their  army  amount- 
ed to  twenty-four  thousand  foot,  and  sixteen 
hundred  horse.  The  Thebans  could  not  muster 
half  that  strength,  after  assembling  all  their 


[Chap. 

troops,  which  had  been  scattered  over  the  fron- 
tier, in  order  to  oppose  the  desultory  irruptions 
of  the  enemy.  Their  cavalry,  however,  nearly 
equalled  those  of  the  Spartans  in  number,  and 
far  excelled  them  in  discipline  and  in  valour. 
Epaminondas  exhorted  them  to  march,  and 
repel  the  invaders,  if  they  would  prevent  the 
defection  of  Bceotia,  and  avoid  the  dangers  and 
disgrace  of  a siege.  They  readily  obeyed,  and 
proceeded  to  the  neighbouring  mountains,  on 
which  having  encamped,  they  obtained  a com- 
manding view  of  the  forces  in  the  plain. 

Having  heard  an  account  of  the  superior 
numbers  of  the  enemy,  the  Thebans  still  deter- 
mined to  give  them  battle.  But  as  the  eyes  are 
the  most  timorous  of  the  senses,  they  were 
seized  with  terror  and  consternation  at  behold- 
ing the  massy  extent  of  the  Spartan  camp. 
Several  of  the  colleagues  of  Epaminondas  (for 
he  had  no  fewer  than  six)  were  averse  to  an 
engagement,  strongly  dissuading  the  general 
from  this  dangerous  measure,  and  artfully  in- 
creasing the  panic  of  the  troops,  by  recounting 
many  sinister  omens  and  prodigies.  The  mag- 
nanimous chief  opposed  the  dangerous  torrent 
of  superstitious  terror,  by  a verse  of  Homer,3 
importing,  that  to  men  engaged  in  the  pious 
duty  of  defending  their  country,  no  particular 
indication  was  necessary  of  the  favourable  will 
of  heaven,  since  they  were  immediately  em- 
ployed in  a service  peculiarly  agreeable  to  the 
gods.  At  the  same  time,  he  counteracted  the 
dejection  of  their  imaginary  fears,  by  encourage- 
ments equally  chimerical.  It  was  circulated, 
by  his  contrivance,  that  the  Theban  temples  had 
opened  of  their  own  accord,  in  consequence  of 
which  the  priestesses  had  announced  a victory; 
that  the  armour  of  Hercules,  reposited  in  the 
Cadmaea,  had  suddenly  disappeared,  as  if  that 
invincible  hero  in  person  had  gone  to  battle  in 
defence  of  his  Theban  countrymen;  above  all, 
an  ancient  oracle  was  carefully  handed  about, 
denouncing  defeat  and  ruin  to  the  Spartans 
near  the  indignant  tomb  of  the  daughters  of 
Scedasus.  These  artifices  gained  the  multi- 
tude, while  arguments  more  rational  prevailed 
with  their  leaders,  of  whom  the  majority  at 
length  ranged  themselves  on  the  side  of  the 
general. 

Before  conducting  them  to  battle,  Epaminon- 
das displayed  his  confidence  of  victory,  by  per- 
mitting all  those  to  retire,  who  either  disap- 
proved his  cause,  or  were  averse  to  share  his 
danger  ; a permission  which  the  Thespians  first 
thought  proper  to  embrace.  The  unwarlike 
crowd  of  attendants,  wThose  services  w?ere  use- 
less in  time  of  action,  gradually  seized  the  same 
opportunity  to  leave  the  camp.  The  swelling 
multitude  appeared  as  a second  army  to  the 
Spartans,  who  sent  a powerful  detachment  to 
oppose  them.  The  fear  of  being  cut  off  by  the 
enemy  threw  them  back  on  the  Thebans,  whose 
hopes  wrere  enlivened  by  the  unexpected  return 
of  such  a considerable  reinforcement.  Thus 
encouraged,  they  determined  unanimously  to 
stand  by  their  admired  chief,  and  either  to  de- 
fend their  country,  or  to  perish  in  the  attempt; 


I 3 El/  0»(UV0{  C6g«TT0{  UfiVVia-Sxi  Wig*  7TStT(r,S.  II.  xii. 

I v.  243. 


1 Plut.  in  Pelopid.  v.  11.  p.355—366. 

2 Xcnopb.  p.  595. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


327 


XXX.] 

and  the  ardour  of  the  troops  equalling  the  skill 
of  the  general,  the  union  of  such  advantages 
rendered  them  invincible. 

Cleombrotus  had  disposed  his  forces  in  the 
form  of  a crescent,  according  to  an  ancient  and 
favourite  practice  of  the  Spartans.  His  cavalry 
were  posted  in  squadrons  along  the  front  of  the 
right  wing,  where  he  commanded  in  person. 
The  allies  composed  the  left  wing,  conducted  by 
Archidamus.  The  Theban  general,  perceiving 
this  dispositition,  and  sensible  that  the  issue  of 
the  battle  would  chiefly  depend  on  the  domes- 
tic troops  of  Sparta,  determined  to  charge  vi- 
gorously with  his  left,  in  order  to  seize  or  de- 
stroy the  person  of  Cleombrotus  ; thinking  that 
should  this  design  succeed,  the  Spartans  must 
be  discouraged  and  repelled  ; and  that  even  the 
attempt  must  occasion  great  disorder  in  their 
ranks,  as  the  bravest  would  hasten,  from  every 
quarter,  to  defend  the  sacred  person  of  their 
king.  Having  resolved,  therefore,  to  commit 
the  fortune  of  the  day  to  the  bravery  of  the  left 
division  of  his  forces,  he  strengthened  it  with 
the  choice  of  his  heavy-armed  men,  whom  he 
drew  up  fifty  deep.  The  cavalry  were  placed 
in  the  van,  to  oppose  the  Spartan  horse,  whom 
they  excelled  in  experience  and  valour.  Pelo- 
pidas,  with  the  Sacred  Band,  flanked  the  whole 
on  the  left ; and  deeming  no  particular  station 
worthy  of  their  prowess,  they  were  prepared  to 
appear  in  every  tumult  of  the  field,  whither 
they  might  be  called,  either  by  an  opportunity 
of  success,  or  by  the  prospect  of  distinguished 
danger.  The  principal  inconvenience  to  which 
the  Thebans  were  exposed,  in  advancing  to  the 
charge,  was  that  of  being  surrounded  by  the 
wide-extended  arms  of  the  Spartan  crescent. 
This  danger  the  general  foresaw ; and  in  order 
to  prevent  it,  he  spread  out  his  right  wing,  of 
which  the  files  had  only  six  men  in  depth,  and 
the  ranks  proceeding  in  an  oblique  line,  diverged 
the  farther  from  the  enemy,  in  proportion  as 
they  extended  in  length. 

q.  The  action  began  with  the  caval- 

* * ry,  which,  on  the  Spartan  side,  con- 
A C 371  s*stec*  chieAy  °f  such  horses  as  were 
kept  for  pleasure  by  the  richer  citi- 
zens in  times  of  peace ; and  which,  proving  an 
unequal  match  for  the  disciplined  valour  of  the 
Thebans,  were  speedily  broken,  and  thrown 
back  on  the  infantry.  Their  repulse  and  rout 
occasioned  considerable  disorder  in  the  Lacedae- 
monian ranks,  which  was  greatly  heightened 
by  the  impetuous  onset  of  the  Sacred  Band. 
Epaminondas  availed  himself  of  this  momen- 
tary confusion  to  perform  one  of  those  rapid 
evolutions  which  commonly  decide  the  fortune 
of  battles.  He  formed  his  strongest,  but  least 
numerous  division,  into  a compact  wedge,  with 
a sharp  point  and  with  spreading  flanks ; ex- 
pecting that  the  Lacedaemonians,  as  soon  as 
they  had  recovered  their  ranks,  would  attack 
the  weaker  and  more  extended  part  of  his  army, 
which,  from  the  oblique  arrangement  in  which 
it  had  been  originally  drawn  up,  seemed  pre- 
pared for  a retreat.  The  event  answered  his 
expectation.  While  the  Lacedaemonians  ad- 
vanced against  his  right  wing,  where  they  found 
little  or  no  resistance,  he  rushed  forward  with 
his  left;  and  darting  like  the  beak  of  a gal- 


ley4 on  the  flank  of  the  enemy,  bore  down  every 
thing  before  him,  until  he  arrived  near  the  post 
occupied  by  Cleombrotus.  The  urgency  of  the 
danger  recalled  to  their  ancient  principles  the 
degenerate  disciples  of  Lycurgus.  The  bravest 
warriors  flew  from  every  quarter  to  the  assist- 
ance of  their  prince,  covered  him  with  their 
shields,  and  defended  him  with  their  swords 
and  lances.  Their  impetuous  valour  resisted 
the  intrepid  progress  of  the  Thebans,  till  the 
Spartan  horemen,  who  attended  the  person  of 
Cleombrotus,  were  totally  cut  off,  and  the  king 
himself,  pierced  with  many  wounds,  fell  on 
the  breathless  or  expiring  bodies  of  his  gener- 
ous defenders.  The  fall  of  the  chief  gave 
new  rage  to  the  battle.  Anger,  resentment, 
and  despair,  by  turns  agitated  the  Spartans. 
According  to  the  superstitious  ideas  of  pagan- 
ism, the  death  of  their  king  appeared  to  them  a 
slight  misfortune,  compared  with  the  disgrace- 
ful impiety  of  committing  his  mangled  remains 
to  the  insults  of  an  enemy.  To  prevent  this 
abomination,  they  exerted  their  utmost  valour, 
and  their  strenuous  efforts  were  successful. 
But  they  could  not  obtain  any  further  advan- 
tage. Epaminondas  was  careful  to  fortify  his 
ranks,  and  to  maintain  his  order  of  battle ; and 
the  firmness  and  rapidity  of  his  regular  assault 
gained  a complete  and  decisive  victory  over  the 
desperate  resistance  of  broken  troops.  The 
principal  strength  of  the  allies  had  hitherto 
remained  inactive,  unwilling  rashly  to  engage 
in  a battle,  the  motives  of  which  they  had 
never  heartily  approved.  The  defeat  of  the 
Lacedaemonians,  and  the  death  of  Cleombrotus, 
decided  their  wavering  irresolution.  They  de- 
termined, almost  with  one  accord,  to  decline 
the  engagement ; their  retreat  was  effected 
with  the  loss  of  about  two  thousand  men ; and 
the  Thebans  remained  sole  masters  of  the  field.5 

The  care  of  burying  the  dead,  and  the  fear 
of  reducing  the  enemy  to  despair,  seemed  to 
have  prevented  Epaminondas  from  pursuing 
the  vanquished  to  their  camp ; which,  as  it  was 
strongly  fortified,  could  not  be  taken  without 
great  slaughter  of  the  assailants.  When  the 
Lacedaemonians  had  assembled  within  the  de- 
fence of  their  ditch  and  rampart,  their  security 
from  immediate  danger  allowed  them  time  to 
reflect  with  astonishment  and  sorrow  on  the- 
humiliating  consequences  of  their  recent  dis- 
aster. Whether  they  considered  the  number 
of  the  slain,  or  reflected  on  the  mortifying  loss 
of  national  honour,  it  was  easy  for  them  to  per- 
ceive, that,  on  no  former  occasion,  the  glory  of 
their  country  had  ever  received  such  a fatal 
wound.  Many  Spartans  declared  their  disgrace 
too  heavy  to  be  borne;  that  they  never  would 
permit  their  ancient  laurels  to  be  buried  under 
a Theban  trophy  ; and  that,  instead  of  craving 
their  dead  under  the  protection  of  a treaty, 
(which  would  be  acknowledging  their  defeat,) 
they  were  determined  to  return  into  the  field, 
and  to  recover  them  by  force  of  arms.  This 
manly,  but  dangerous  resolution,  was  con- 
demned in  the  council  of  war,  by  the  officers 


4 Xenophon  employs  this  expression  on  a similar  occa- 
sion, in  relating  the  battle  of  Mantinsea. 

5 Xenoph.  p.  596.  et  seq.  ad  I’lut.  vol.  ii.  366.  et  seq. 


328 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


of  most  experience  and  authority.  They  ob- 
served, that  of  seven  hundred  Spartans  who 
fought  in  the  engagement,  four  hundred  had 
fallen  ; that  the  Lacedaemonians  had  lost  one 
thousand,  and  the  allies  two  thousand  six  hun- 
dred. Their  army  indeed  still  outnumbered 
that  of  the  enemy ; but  their  domestic  forces 
formed  scarcely  the  tenth  part  of  their  strength, 
nor  could  they  repose  any  confidence  in  the 
forced  assistance  of  their  reluctant  confederates, 
who,  emboldened  by  the  misfortunes  of  Sparta, 
declared  their  unwillingness  to  renew  the  bat- 
tle, and  scarcely  concealed  their  satisfaction  at 
the  humiliation  and  disgrace  of  that  haughty 
and  tyrannical  republic.  Yielding,  therefore, 
to  the  necessity  of  this  miserable  juncture,  the 
Spartans  sent  a herald  to  crave  their  dead,  and 
to  acknowledge  the  victory  of  the  Thebans.1 

Before  they  found  it  convenient  to  return 
home,  the  fatal  tidings  had  reached  their  capi- 
tal ; and  on  this  memorable  occasion,  the  Spar- 
tans exhibited  that  striking  peculiarity  of  beha- 
viour, which  naturally  resulted  from  the  insti- 
tutions of  Lycurgus.  Availing  himself  of  the 
extraordinary  respect  which  uncultivated  na- 
tions bestow  on  military  courage,  in  preference 
to  all  other  virtues  and  accomplishments,  that 
legislator  allowed  to  the  man  who  had  lost  his 
defensive  armour,  or  who  had  fled  in  the  day 
of  battle,  but  one  melancholy  alternative,  more 
dreadful  than  death  to  a generous  mind.  The 
unfortunate  soldier  was  either  driven  into  per- 
petual banishment,  and  subjected  to  every  in- 
dignity which,  in  a rude  age,  would  naturally 
be  inflicted  by  the  resentment  of  neighbouring 
and  hostile  tribes ; or,  if  he  submitted  to  remain 
at  home,  he  was  excluded  from  the  public  as- 
semblies, from  every  office  of  power  or  honour, 
from  the  protection  of  the  laws,  and  almost 
from  the  society  of  men,  without  the  shadow  of 
a hope  ever  to  amend  his  condition.  The  in- 
fluence of  this  stern  law,  which  seems  to  have 
been  forgotten  in  the  field  of  Leuctra,  was  illus- 
trated in  a very  striking  manner,  after  that  un- 
fortunate battle. 

The  messenger  of  bad  news  arrived,  while 
the  Spartans,  according  to  annual  custom,  were 
celebrating,  in  the  month  of  July,  gymnastic 
and  musical  entertainments,  and  invoking  hea- 
ven to  preserve  the  fruits  of  the  approaching 
autumn.  Being  introduced  to  the  Ephori,  he 
informed  them  of  th  e public  disaster.  These  ma- 
gistrates commanded  the  festival  to  proceed ; 
sending,  however,  to  each  family  a list  of  the 
warriors  whom  it  had  lost,  and  enjoining  the 
women  to  abstain  from  unavailing  lamentations. 
Next  day,  the  fathers  and  other  relations  of 
such  as  had  perished  in  the  field  of  battle,  ap- 
peared in  the  public  places,  dressed  in  their 
gayest  attire,  saluting  and  congratulating  each 
other  on  the  bravery  of  their  brethren  or  chil- 
dren. But  the  kinsmen  of  those  who  had  saved 
themselves  by  a shameful  flight,  either  remain- 
ed at  home,  brooding  in  silence  over  their  do- 
mestic affliction,  or,  if  they  ventured  abroad, 
discovered  every  symptom  of  unutterable  an- 
guish and  despair.  Their  persons  were  shame- 
fully neglected,  their  garments  rent,  their  arms 


[Chap. 

folded,  their  eyes  fixed  immoveably  on  the 
ground  ; expecting,  in  humble  resignation,  the 
sentence  of  eternal  ignominy  ready  to  be  de- 
nounced by  the  magistrate  against  the  unworthy 
causes  of  their  sorrow.2  But,  on  this  critical 
emergency,  the  rigour  of  the  Spartan  discipline 
was  mitigated  by  Agesilaus,  whom  the  number 
and  rank  of  the  criminals  deterred  from  inflict- 
ing on  them  the  merited  punishment.  He  en- 
deavoured to  atone  for  abandoning  the  spirit  of 
the  laws,  by  what  may  appear  a very  puerile 
expedient;  “Let  us  suppose,”  said  he,  “the 
sacred  institutions  of  Lycurgus  to  have  slept 
during  one  unfortunate  day,  but  henceforth  let 
them  resume  their  wonted  vigour  and  activity 
a sentence  extravagantly  praised  by  many  wri- 
ters, as  preserving  the  authority  of  the  laws, 
while  it  spared  the  lives  of  the  citizens.  But 
as,  on  the  one  hand,  we  cannot  discover  the 
admired  sagacity  of  Agesilaus  in  dispensing 
this  act  of  lenity ; so,  on  the  other,  we  cannot 
condemn  as  imprudent  the  act  itself,  which  the 
present  circumstances  of  his  country  rendered 
not  only  expedient,  but  necessary.  If  Sparta 
had  been  the  populous  capital  of  an  extensive 
territory,  the  lives  of  three  hundred  citizens 
might,  perhaps,  have  been  usefully  sacrificed  to 
the  honour  of  military  discipline.  But  a com- 
munity exceedingly  small,  and  actually  weaken- 
ed by  the  loss  of  four  hundred  members,  could 
scarcely  have  survived  another  blow  equally 
destructive.  No  distant  prospect  of  advantage, 
therefore,  could  have  justified  such  an  unsea- 
sonable severity. 

Olvrrm  When  the  intelligence  was  dif- 

cii  g fused  over  Greece,  that  the  The- 

A C 371  ^ans’  t^ie  l°ss  °f  only  three 
hundred  men,  had  raised  an  immor- 
tal trophy  over  the  strength  and  renown  of 
Sparta,  the  importance  of  this  event  became 
every  where  conspicuous.  The  desire,  and 
hope,  of  a revolution  in  public  affairs,  filled 
the  Peloponnesus  with  agitation  and  tumult. 
Eleans,  Arcadians,  and  Argives,  every  people 
who  had  been  influenced  by  Spartan  councils, 
or  intimidated  by  Spartan  power,  openly  as- 
pired at  independence.  The  less  considerable 
states  expected  to  remain  thenceforth  unmo- 
lested, no  longer  paying  contributions,  nor  obey- 
ing every  idle  summons  to  war.  The  more 
powerful  republics  breathed  hatred  and  re- 
venge, and  gloried  in  an  opportunity  of  taking 
vengeance  on  the  proud  senators  of  Sparta,  for 
the  calamities  which  they  had  so  often  inflicted 
on  their  neighbours. 

But  amidst  this  general  ferment,  and  while 
every  other  people  were  guided  rather  by  their 
passions  and  animosities,  than  by  the  principles 
of  justice  or  sound  policy,  the  Athenians  ex- 
hibited an  illustrious  example  of  political  mode- 
ration.3 Immediately  after  the  battle  of  Leuc- 
tra, a Theban  herald,  adorned  with  the  em- 
blems of  peace  and  victory,  had  been  despatched 
to  Athens,  in  order  to  relate  the  particulars  of 
the  engagement,  and  to  invite  the  Athenians 
to  an  offensive  alliance  against  a republic, 
which  had  ever  proved  the  most  dangerous,  as 
well  as  the  most  inveterate  enemy  of  their 


Xenoph.  p 596,  et  seq.  et  Plut.  vol.  ii.  p.  366,  et  scq. 


2 Xenoph.  p.  596. 


3 Ibid.  p.  596 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


329 


XXX. 


country.  But  the  assembly  of  Athens,  governed 
by  the  magnanimity,  or  rather  by  the  prudence, 
of  Timotheus  and  Iphicrates,  determined  to 
humble  their  rivals,  not  to  destroy  them. 

The  ancient  and  illustrious  merit  of  the  Spar- 
tans, their  important  services  during  the  Per- 
sian waY,  and  the  fame  of  their  laws  and  dis- 
cipline, which  still  rendered  them  a respectable 
branch  of  the  Grecian  confederacy,  might  have 
a considerable  influence  in  producing  this  reso- 
lution. But  it  chiefly  proceeded  from  a jealousy 
of  the  growing  power  of  Thebes,  the  situation 
of  whose  territories  might  soon  render  her  a 
more  formidable  opponent  to  Athens,  than  even 
Sparta  herself.  This  political  consideration  for 
once  prevailed  over  a deep-rooted  national  an- 
tipathy. The  Theban  herald  was  not  received 
with  respect,  nor  even  with  decency.  He  was 
not  entertained  in  public,  according  to  the  es- 
tablished hospitality  of  the  Greeks  ; and  al- 
though the  senate  of  the  Five  Hundred  (who 
usually  answered  foreign  ambassadors)  was 
then  assembled  in  the  citadel,  he  was  allowed 
to  return  home  without  receiving  the  smallest 
satisfaction  on  the  subject  of  his  demand.  But 
the  Athenians,  though  unwilling  to  second  the 
resentment,  and  promote  the  prosperity  of 
Thebes,  prepared  to  derive  every  possible  ad- 
vantage from  the  misfortunes  and  distress  of 
Sparta.  Convinced  that  the  inhabitants  of  Pe- 
loponnesus would  no  longer  be  inclined  to  fol- 
low her  standard,  and  share  her  danger  and  ad- 
versity, they  eagerly  seized  the  opportunity  of 
delivering  them  for  ever  from  her  yoke ; and, 
lest  any  other  people  might  attain  the  rank 
wThich  the  Spartans  once  held,  and  raise  their 
own  importance  on  the  ruins  of  public  free- 
dom, ambassadors  were  sent  successively  to  the 
several  cities,  requiring  their  respective  com- 
pliance with  the  treaty  of  Antalcidas.  Against 
such  as  rejected  this  overture,  war  was  de- 
nounced in  the  name  of  Athens  and  her  allies ; 
which  was  declaring  to  all  Greece,  that  the 
battle  of  Leuctra  had  put  the  balance  of  power 
in  her  hands,  and  that  she  had  determined  to 
check  the  ambition  of  every  republic  whose 
views  were  too  aspiring.4 

Disappointed  of  the  assistance  of  Athens, 
the  Thebans  had  recourse  to  an  ally  not  less 
powerful.  The  extensive  and  fertile  territory 
of  Thessaly,  which  had  been  so  long  weaken- 
ed by  division,  was  fortunately  united  under 
the  government  of  Jason  of  Pherae,  a man 
whose  abilities  and  enterprising  ambition  seem- 
ed destined  to  change  the  face  of  the  ancient 
world.5  To  the  native  virtues  of  hospitality 
and  magnificence,  which  peculiarly  distinguish- 
ed his  country,  Jason  added  indefatigable  la- 
bour and  invincible  courage, 'with  a mind  ca- 
pable to  conceive  the  loftiest  designs,  and  a 
character  ready  to  promote  them  by  the  mean- 
est artifices.6  His  family  descended  from  the 
ancient  kings  of  the  heroic  ages,  and  formed 
the  wealthiest  house  in  Pherae,  which  had  al- 
ready attained  considerable  pre-efriinence  over 
the  neighbouring  cities  of  Thessaly.  By  con- 
trivances extremely  unworthy  of  that  greatness 


4 Xenoph.  p.  602. 

5 Xenoph.  Hellcn.  I.  vi.  c.  i.  et  sea 

6 Polyeen.  Stratagem. 

2 T 


to  which  they  frequently  conduct,  Jason  de- 
ceived his  brothers  and  kinsmen,  and  appropri- 
ated almost  the  sole  use  of  his  domestic  opu- 
lence. With  this  he  hired  a well-appointed 
body  of  mercenaries,  by  whose  assistance  he 
acquired  greater  authority  in  Pherae,  than  any 
former  general  or  king  had  ever  enjoyed.7 8  But 
the  government  of  a single  city  could  not  sa- 
tisfy his  aspiring  mind.  By  stratagem,  by  sur- 
prise, or  by  force,  he  extended  his  dominion 
over  the  richest  parts  of  Thessaly  ; and  was 
ready  to  grasp  the  whole,  when  his  designs 
were  obstructed  by  the  powerful  opposition  of 
Polydamas  the  Pharsalian.6 

Next  to  Pherae  and  Larissa,  Pharsalus  was  the 
largest  and  most  flourishing  city  in  that  north- 
ern division  of  Greece.  But  the  inhabitants, 
distracted  by  factions,  exhausted  their  strength 
in  civil  discord  and  sedition,  until  a ray  of  wis- 
dom illuminating  both  parties,  they  committed 
their  differences,  and  themselves,  to  the  probity 
and  patriotism  of  Polydamas,  which  were  equally 
respected  at  home  and  abroad.  For  several 
years  Polydamas  commanded  the  citadel,  and 
administered  justice  and  the  finances  with  such 
diligence  and  fidelity,  as  might  reasonably  have 
entitled  him  to  the  glorious  appellation  of  Fa- 
ther of  his  country.  He  firmly  opposed  and 
counteracted  the  secret  practices,  as  well  as  the 
open  designs,  of  Jason,  who  eagerly  solicited 
his  friendship  by  every  motive,  that  could  actu- 
ate a mind  of  less  determined  integrity. 

At  a conference  which  was  held  between 
them  at  Pharsalus,  where  Jason  had  come  alone 
and  unattended,  the  better  to  gain  the  confi- 
dence of  a generous  adversary,  the  Pheraean 
displayed  the  magnitude  of  his  power  and  re- 
sources, which  it  seemed  impossible  for  the 
weakness  of  Pharsalus  to  resist;  and  promised, 
that,  on  surrendering  the  citadel  of  that  place, 
which  must  otherwise  soon  yield  to  force,  Po- 
lydamas should  enjoy  in  Thessaly  the  second 
rank  after  himself ; that  he  would  regard  him 
as  his  friend  and  colleague  ; nor  could  there  re- 
main a doubt  that  their  united  labours  might 
raise  their  common  country  to  that  station  in 
Greece  which  it  had  been  long  entitled  to  hold. 
That  the  subjugation  of  the  neighbouring  states 
opened  vaster  prospects,  which  forced  them- 
selves irresistibly  on  his  mind,  when  he  consi- 
dered the  natural  advantages  of  Thessaly,  the 
fertility  of  the  soil,  the  swiftness  of  the  horses, 
the  disciplined  bravery  and  martial  ardour  of 
the  inhabitants,  with  whom  no  nation  in  Eu- 
rope, or  in  Asia,  was  able  to  contend. 

Polydamas  heard  with  pleasure  the  praises 
of  his  native  land,  and  admired  the  magna- 
nimity of  Jason.  But  he  observed,  that  his 
fellow  citizens  had  honoured  him  with  a trust 
which  it  was  impossible  for  him  ever  to  betray; 
and  that  their  community  still  enjoyed  the  al- 
liance of  Sparta,  from  which  the  neighbouring 
cities  lmd  revolted.  That  he  was  determined 
to  demand  the  protection  of  that  republic  ; and 
if  the  Lacedaemonians  were  willing  and  able  to 
afford  him  any  effectual  assistance,  he  would 
defend  to  the  last  extremity  the  walls  of  Phar- 
salus. Jason  commended  his  integrity  and  pa- 

7 l’lut.  Polit.  etsan.  tuend. 

8 Xenoph.  Ilellcn.  1.  vi.  c.  i.  et  seq. 


330 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


triotism,  which,  he  declared,  inspired  him  with 
the  warmer  desire  to  obtain  the  friendship  of 
such  an  illustrious  character. 

„ Soon  afterwards  Poly damas  went 

U ymp.  tQ  gpartai  and  proposed  his  demand 
AC*  ‘T'O  *n  council;  exhorting  the  ma- 
A.  t/.  J/U.  gjs|-rates  not  only  to  undertake  the 
expedition,  but  to  undertake  it  with  vigour ; 
for  if  they  expected  to  oppose  the  forces  of  Ja- 
son by  their  undisciplined  peasants,  or  half- 
armed slaves,  they  would  infallibly  bring  dis- 
grace on  themselves,  and  ruin  on  their  confede- 
rates. The  Lacedaemonians  were  deeply  engaged 
in  the  Theban  war,  which  had  been  hitherto 
carried  on  unsuccessfully.  They  prudently  de- 
clined, therefore,  the  invitation  of  Polydamas  ; 
who,  returning  to  Thessaly,  held  a second  con- 
ference with  Jason.  He  still  refused  to  sur- 
render the  citadel,  but  promised  to  use  his  best 
endeavours  for  making  the  Pharsalians  submit 
of  their  own  accord ; and  offered  his  only  son 
as  a pledge  of  his  fidelity.  Jason  accepted  the 
offer,  and,  by  the  influence  of  Polydamas,  wras 
soon  afterwards  declared  captain-general  of 
Pharsalus  and  all  Thessaly  ; a modest  appella- 
tion, under  which  he  enjoyed  the  full  extent  of 
royal  power.1 

He  began  his  reign  by  adjusting,  with  equity 
and  precision,  the  proportion  of  taxes,  and  the 
contingent  of  troops,  to  be  raised  by  the  several 
cities  in  his  dominions.  The  new  levies,  added 
to  his  standing  army  of  mercenaries,  amounted 
to  eight  thousand  horse,  twenty  thousand  heavy- 
armed foot,  and  such  a body  of  targeteers,  as 
no  nation  of  antiquity  could  match.2  But 
numbers  formed  the  least  advantageous  dis- 
tinction of  the  army  of  Jason.  Every  day  he 
exercised  his  troops  in  person  ; dispensed  re- 
wards and  punishments;  cashiered  the  slothful 
and  effeminate ; honoured  the  brave  and  dili- 
gent with  double,  and  sometimes  treble  pay, 
with  large  donatives  in  money,  and  with  such 
other  presents  as  peculiarly  suited  their  re- 
spective tastes.  By  this  judicious  plan  of  mili- 
tary administration,  the  soldiers  of  Jason  be- 
came alike  attached  to  their  duty,  and  to  the 
person  of  their  general,  whose  standard  they 
were  ready  to  follow  into  any  part  of  the 
world.3 

He  began  his  military  operations  by  subduing 
the  Dryopes,4  the  Dolopians,  and  the  other 
small  but  warlike  tribes,  inhabiting  the  long 
and  intricate  chain  of  mounts  CEta  and  Pindus, 
which  form  the  southern  frontier  of  Thessaly. 
Then  turning  northwards,  he  struck  terror  into 
Macedon,  and  compelled  Amyntas  to  become 
his  ally,  and  most  probably  his  tributary.  Thus 
fortified  on  both  sides,  he  retaliated  the  inroads 
of  the  Phocians,  who  had  long  profited  of  the 
divisions,  and  insulted  the  weakness,  of  his 
country ; and  by  conquering  the  small  and  un- 
cultivated district  of  Epirus,  which  then  formed 
a barbarous  principality  under  Alcetas,5  an  an- 


1 Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  vi.  c.  1,  et  seq.  et  Diodor.  Sicul.  1. 
xv.  p.  488. 

2 Xenophon  expresses  it  more  strongly ; jrsXrao-Tixov 
Y*  iv  txeevov  7rqcg  rrxvrag  eevS^Mjrous  «vr<rot%S))v«i,  p. 
600. 

3 Xenoph.  p.  600.  4 Strabo.  1.  viii.  p.  299. 

5  In  speaking  of  Arrybas  (the  son  of  Alcetas,  and  the 
grandfather  of  Pyrrhus,)  who  received  his  education  at 


cestor  of  the  renowned  Pyrrhus,  he  extended 
the  dominion  of  Thessaly  from  the  iEgean  to 
the  Ionian  sea,  and  encompassed,  as  with  a belt, 
the  utmost  breadth  of  the  Grecian  republics. 

It  cannot  be  doubted,  that  the  subjugation,  or 
at  least  the  command,  of  those  immortal  com- 
monwealths, was  the  aim  of  the  Thessalian 
prince,  who  declared  to  his  friends,  that  he  ex- 
pected, by  the  assistance  of  Greece,  to  imitate 
the  glorious  example  of  Cyrus  and  Agesilaus, 
and  to  effect,  by  the  united  strength  of  the  con- 
federacy, what  these  generals  had  nearly  ac- 
complished by  a body  of  ten  or  twelve  thousand 
soldiers.6  While  the  Spartans,  however,  pre- 
served their  long-boasted  pre-eminence,  and 
regarded  it  as  their  hereditary  and  unalienable 
right  to  conduct  their  confederates  to  war,  Ja- 
son could  not  hope  to  attain  the  principal  com- 
mand in  an  Asiatic  expedition.  As  the  natural 
enemy  of  that  haughty  people,  he  rejoiced  in 
their  unprosperous  war  against  the  Thebans ; 
nor  could  he  receive  small  satisfaction  from  be- 
holding the  southern  states  of  Greece  engaged 
in  perpetual  warfare,  while  he  himself  main- 
tained a respected  neutrality,  and  watched  the 
first  favourable  occasion  of  interfering,  with  de- 
cisive effect,  in  the  final  settlement  of  that 
country. 

He  seldom  ventured  indeed  into  the  Pelopon- 
nesus ; but,  in  order  to  examine  matters  more 
nearly,  he  undertook,  upon  very  extraordinary 
pretences,  several  journeys  to  Athens  and 
Thebes.  From  policy,  and  perhaps  from  in- 
clination, he  had  formed  an  intimate  connec- 
tion with  the  most  distinguished  characters  of 
those  republics,  and  particularly  with  Pelopi- 
das  and  Timotheus.  The  latter,  after  serving 
his  country  with  equal  glory  and  success,  was, 
according  to  the  usual  fortune  of  Athenian 
commanders,  exposed  to  a cruel  persecution  of 
his  rivals  and  enemies,  which  endangered  his 
honour  and  his  life.  On  the  day  of  trial  the 
admirers  and  friends  of  that  great  man  appear- 
ed in  the  Athenian  assembly,  in  order  to  inter- 
cede with  his  judges ; and  among  the  rest,  Jason, 
habited  in  the  robe  of  a suppliant,  humbly  so- 
liciting the  release  of  Timotheus,  from  a peo- 
ple who  would  not  probably  have  denied  a 
much  greater  favour  to  the  simple  recommen- 
dation of  so  powerful  a prince.7  In  a visit  to 
Thebes,  he  endeavoured  to  gain  or  secure  the 
attachment  of  Epaminondas,  by  large  presents 
and  promises ; but  the  illustrious  Theban, 
whose  independent  and  honourable  poverty  had 
rejected  the  assistance  of  his  friends  and  fellow 
citizens,  spurned  with  disdain  the  insolent  ge- 
nerosity of  a stranger.8  Yet,  by  the  interven- 
tion of  Pelopidas,  Jason  contracted  an  engage- 
ment of  hospitality  with  the  Thebans,  in  con- 
sequence of  which  he  was  invited  to  join  their 
arms,  after  their  memorable  victory  at  Leuctra. 

The  Thessalian  prince  accepted  the  invita- 
tion, though  his  designs  respecting  Greece  were 
not  yet  ripe  for  execution.  He  was  actually 

Athens,  Justin  says,  “ Quanto  doctior  majoribu9  suis,  tanto 

et  gratior  populo  fuit.  Primus  itaque  leges  et  senatum  an- 

nuosque  magistratus  et  reipublic®  formam  composuit.  Et 

ut  a Pyrrho  sedes,  sic  vita  cultior  populo  ab  Arryba  statuta.” 

6 Xenoph.  p.  600. 

7 Demosthenes  et  Cornel.  Nepos  in  Timoth. 

8 Plut.  Apophtheg. 


XXX.l  HISTORY  OF  GREECE.  331 


engaged  in  war  with  the  Phocians,  of  which, 
whatever  might  be  the  pretence,  the  real  ob- 
ject was  to  obtain  the  superintendence  of  the 
Delphic  oracle,  and  the  administration  of  the 
sacred  treasure.  To  avoid  marching  through 
a hostile  territory,  he  ordered  his  galleys  to  be 
equipped,  as  if  he  had  intended  to  proceed  by 
sea  to  the  coast  of  Boeotia.  His  naval  prepa- 
rations amused  the  attention  of  the  Phocians, 
while  Jason  entered  their  country  with  a body 
of  two  thousand  light  horse,  and  advanced 
with  such  rapidity  that  he  was  every  where  the 
first  messenger  of  his  own  arrival. 

By  this  unusual  celerity,  he  joined,  without 
encountering  any  obstacle,  the  army  of  the  The- 
bans, who  were  encamped  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Leuctra,  at  no  great  distance  from  the  enemy. 
Instead  of  an  auxiliary,  Jason  thought  it  more 
suitable  to  his  interest  to  act  the  part  of  a medi- 
ator. He  exhorted  the  Thebans  to  rest  satisfied 
with  the  advantages  which  they  had  already  ob- 
tained, without  driving  their  adversaries  to  des- 
pair ; that  the  recent  history  of  their  own  re- 
public, and  of  Sparta,  should  teach  them  to 
remember  the  vicissitudes  of  fortune.  The  La- 
cedaemonians, on  the  other  hand,  he  reminded 
of  the  difference  between  a victorious  and  van- 
quished army.  That  the  present  crisis  seemed 
totally  adverse  to  the  re-establishment  of  their 
greatness ; that  they  should  yield  to  the  fatality 
of  circumstances,  and  watch  a more  favourable 
opportunity  to  restore  the  tarnished  lustre  of 
their  arms.  His  arguments  prevailed;  hostili- 
ties were  suspended ; the  terms  of  a peace  were 
proposed  and  accepted : but  it  is  remarkable, 
that  the  Spartans  and  their  allies  had  so  little 
confidence  in  this  sudden  negotiation,  that  they 
decamped  the  night  following,  and  continued  to 
march  homeward,  with  the  diligence  of  distrust 
and  fear,  until  they  got  entirely  beyond  reach 
of  the  Thebans.9 

Jason  had  not,  probably,  more  confidence  in 
a treaty  hastily  concluded  between  enemies, 
whose  resentments  were  irritated  and  inflamed 
by  so  many  mutual  injuries  offered  and  retorted. 
Nothing  could  have  been  more  contrary  to  his 
views  than  a sincere  and  lasting  peace  between 
these  powerful  republics ; but  as  this  was  not  to 
be  apprehended,  he  wished  to  obtain  the  reputa- 
tion of  appeasing  the  dissensions  of  Greece  ; a 


circumstance  of  great  importance  to  the  accom- 
plishment of  his  ambitious  designs. 

In  his  return  home,  he  demolished  the  walls 
of  Heraclea,  a town  situate  near  the  straits  of 
Thermopylae  ; not  fearing,  says  his  historian, 'o 
q,  that  any  of  the  Greek  states  should 

cii^S^"  invade  his  dominions  from  that  side, 
A c'370  ^ut  unwilling  to  leave  a place  of 
such  strength  on  his  frontier,  which, 
if  seized  by  a powerful  neighbour,  might  ob- 
struct his  passage  into  Greece.  Thither  he 
determined  to  return  at  the  celebration  of  the 
Pythian  games,  at  which  he  meant  to  claim 
the  right  of  presiding,  as  an  honour  due  both 
to  his  piety  and  to  his  power.  He  commanded, 
therefore,  the  cities  and  villages  of  Thessaly  to 
fatten  sheep,  goats,  swine,  and  oxen,  and  pro- 
posed honourable  rewards  to  such  districts  as 
furnished  the  best  victims  for  the  altars  of 
Apollo.  Without  any  burdensome  imposition 
on  his  subjects,  he  collected  a thousand  oxen, 
and,  of  smaller  cattle,  to  the  number  of  ten 
thousand.  At  the  same  time,  he  prepared  the 
whole  military  strength  of  his  kingdom,  by 
whose  assistance,  still  more  effectually  than  by 
the  merit  of  his  sacrifices,  he  might  maintain 
his  pretensions  to  the  superintendence  of  the 
games,  the  direction  of  the  oracle,  and  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  sacred  treasure,  which  he  re- 
garded as  so  many  previous  steps  to  the  con- 
quest of  Greece  and  Asia.  But,  amidst  these 
lofty  projects,  Jason,  while  reviewing  the  Phe- 
rsean  cavalry,  was  stabbed  by  seven  youths, 
who  approached  him,  on  pretence  of  demand- 
ing justice  against  each  other.  Two  of  the  as- 
sassins were  despatched  by  his  guards.  Five 
mounted  fleet  horses,  which  had  been  prepared 
for  their  use,  and  escaped  to  the  Grecian  re- 
publics, in  which  they  were  received  with  uni- 
versal acclamations  of  joy,  and  honoured  as  the 
saviours  of  their  country  from  the  formidable 
power  of  a brave  but  ambitious  tyrant.* 11  The 
projects  and  the  empire  of  Jason  perished  with 
himself ; Thessaly,  as  we  shall  have  occasion 
to  explain,  relapsed  into  its  former  state  of  di- 
vision and  weakness : but  it  is  the  business  of 
history  to  relate  not  only  great  actions,  but 
great  designs ; and  even  the  designs  of  Jason 
announce  the  approaching  downfall  of  Grecian 
freedom. 


9 Xcnoph.  p.  600. 


10  Xenoph.p.  599. 

11  Xcnoph.  et  Diodor.  ibid,  et  Valerius  Maximus,  1.  ix. 


332 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Tumults  in  the  Peloponnesus — Invasion  of  Laconia — Epaminondas  rebuilds  Messene — Founda- 
tion of  Megalopolis — Archidamus  restores  the  Fortune  of  Sparta — Affairs  of  Thessaly  and  Ma- 
cedon — Negotiations  for  Peace — The  Pretensions  of  Thebes  rejected — Epaminondas  invades  the 
Peloponnesus — Revolutions  in  Achaia — Speech  of  Archidamus  in  the  Spartan  Council — De- 
signs of  Thebes — Disconcerted  by  Athens — Pelopidas's  Expedition  in  Thessaly — The  Arcadians 
sei2e  the  Olympic  Treasure — Battle  of  Mantincea — Agesilaus's  Expedition  into  Egypt. 


rT^HE  death  of  Jason  removed  the  terror  of 
Greece  ; but  of  a country  which  owed  its 
safety  to  the  arm  of  an  assassin,  the  condition 
may  justly  be  regarded  as  extremely  unstable 
and  precarious.  There  elapsed, however,  thirty- 
three  years  of  discord  and  calamity,  before  the 
Greeks  finally  experienced,  in  Philip  of  Mace- 
don,  such  ambition  and  abilities  as  enabled  him 
fully  to  accomplish  the  lofty  designs  of  the  Thes- 
salian. The  history  of  this  last  stage  of  tumul- 
tuous liberty  comprehends  the  bloody,  but  inde- 
cisive wars,  which  exhausted  Greece  during 
eleven  years  that  intervened  between  the  battle 
of  Leuctra,  and  the  accession  of  Philip  to  the 
Macedonian  throne,  together  with  the  active 
reign  of  that  prince ; a memorable  period  of 
twenty-two  years,  illuminated  by  the  success 
and  glory  of  Macedon,  and  clouded  by  the  dis- 
grace and  ruin  of  the  Grecian  republics. 
OlvmD  The  unexPected  issue  of  the  bat- 

P*  tie  of  Leuctra  was  doubly  prejudi- 

A C 370  *°  t^ie  ®Par^ans’  by  weakening 

their  own  confederacy,  and  strength- 
ening that  of  their  enemies.  In  less  than  two 
years  after  that  important  event,  the  alliance  in 
Peloponnesus,  over  which  Sparta  had  so  long 
maintained  an  ascendant,  was  totally  dissolved, 
and  most  cities  had  changed  not  only  their 
foreign  connections,  but  their  domestic  laws 
and  government.  During  the  same  period,  the 
confederacy,  of  which  Thebes  was  the  head, 
had,  on  the  contrary,  been  very  widely  ex- 
tended. Many  communities  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesus courted  her  protection;  and,  in  the  north 
of  Greece,  the  Acarnanians,  Locrians,  Pho- 
cians,  the  whole  breadth  of  the  continent,  from 
the  Ionian  to  the  Aegean  sea,  and  even  the  isle 
of  Euboea,  increased  the  power,  and  in  some 
measure  acknowledged  the  dominion  of  Thebes. 
The  history  of  these  revolutions  is  very  imper- 
fectly related  by  ancient  writers  ; but  their  con- 
sequences were  too  remarkable  not  to  be  attend- 
ed to  and  explained.  The  Peloponnesians,  after 
being  delivered  from  the  oppression  of  the  Spar- 
tan yoke,  were  subjected  to  the  more  destructive 
tyranny  of  their  own  ungovernable  passions.1 
Every  state  and  every  city  was  torn  by  factions 
which  frequently  blazed  forth  into  the  most 
violent  seditions.  The  exiles  from  several  re- 
publics were  nearly  as  numerous  as  those  who 
had  expelled  them.  Fourteen  hundred  were 
banished  from  Tegea;  two  thousand2  were  slain 


1 Diadems,  L xv.  p.  371,  et  seq.  Isocrat.  in  Archidam. 
et  de  Pace. 

2 This  number  is  made  out  by  comparing  different 

authors,  and  uniting  m one  view  the  different  scenes  of  the 

sedition,  which  is  called  the  Scytalism  bv  Diodorus  (ubi 

supra,)  and  Pausanias  (Corinth,)  from  the  Greek  word 

«-xvr*xi),  signifying  a club,  which,  it  seems,  was  the  princi- 
pal instrument  of  slaughter. 


in  Argos  ; in  many  places  the  contending  fac- 
tions alternately  prevailed  ; and  those  who,  in 
the  first  encounter,  had  got  possession  of  the 
government  and  the  capital,  were  sometimes  at- 
tacked3 and  conquered  by  the  numerous  fugi- 
tives, who  formed  a camp  in  the  adjoining  ter- 
ritory. The  Mantinseans  alone  seem  to  have 
acted  wisely.  With  one  accord,  and  with  equal 
diligence,  they  laboured  to  rebuild  their  walls, 
which  the  insolence  of  Sparta  had  demolished. 
The  work  was  soon  brought  to  a conclusion  ; 
and  the  Mantinseans,  united  in  one  democracy, 
fully  determined  thenceforth  to  preserve  the 
strength  of  their  city,  which  appeared  necessary 
to  maintain  their  political  independence. 

Neither  the  Thebans  nor  the  Spartans  imme- 
diately interfered  in  this  scene  of  disorder.  The 
former  found  sufficient  employment  for  their 
arms  and  negotiations  in  the  northern  parts  of 
Greece ; and  the  latter  were  so  much  humbled 
by  their  defeat  at  Leuctra,  that  they  contented 
themselves  with  preparing  to  defend  the  banks 
of  the  Eurotas,  and  to  repel  the  expected  assault 
of  their  capital.  F or  this  purpose  they  had  armed 
the  aged  and  infirm,  who  were  legally  exempt- 
ed from  military  service.4  They  had  command- 
ed into  the  field  even  those  citizens  who  were 
employed  in  such  sacred  and  civil  offices  as  are 
deemed  most  useful  in  society ; and,  as  their 
last  resource,  they  talked  of  giving  arms  to  the 
Helots.  But  the  convulsions  of  Peloponnesus 
soon  supplied  them  with  less  dangerous  auxilia- 
ries.5 The  incensed  partisans  of  aristocracy, 
who  had  been  expelled  from  Argolis,  Achaia, 
and  Arcadia,  had  recourse  to  the  most  ancient 
and  distinguished  patrons  of  their  political  prin- 
ciples. Encouraged  by  this  seasonable  reinforce- 
ment, the  Spartans  set  at  defiance  the  Theban 
invasion,  by  which  they  had  been  so  long 
threatened,  and  sent  a considerable  detachment 
to  recover  their  lost  authority  in  Arcadia.  But 
it  was  the  fate  of  Sparta,  to  regain  neither  in 
that,  nor  in  any  other  state  of  the  Peloponnesus, 
the  influence  which  she  had  lost  in  the  field  of 
Leuctra.  Polytropos,  who  commanded  her 
allies  in  this  expedition,  was  defeated  and  slain 
in  the  first  rencounter  with  the  Arcadians  and 
Lycomedes,  their  intrepid  and  magnanimous 
leader.  Nor  did  Agesilaus  perform  any  thing 
decisive  against  the  enemy.  He  was  contented 
with  ravaging  the  villages  and  delightful  fields 
of  Arcadia,  in  which  he  met  with  little  resist- 
ance from  the  inhabitants,  who  declined  an  en- 
gagement, until  they  should  be  joined  by  the 
Theban  confederacy,  whose  assistance  they  had 
sent  to  solicit,  and  had  just  reason  to  expect.6 


3 Diodorus,  1.  xv.  p.  371,  et  seq 

4 Xenoph.  1.  vi.  p.  597.  5 Id.  p.  603. 

6 Xenoplioo.  1.  vi.  p.  605. 


XXXI.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


333 


r..  At  length  the  far-renowned  The- 

• bans  took  the  field,  having  carefully 
^a*  * pondered  their  own  strength,  and 

* ’ * collected  into  one  body  the  flower 

and  vigour  of  their  numerous  allies.  They 
were  accompanied  by  the  warlike  youth  of  the 
towns  and  villages  of  Bceotia,  by  the  Acarna- 
nians,  Phocians,  Locrians,  and  Eubasans,  and 
by  a promiscuous  crowd  of  needy  fugitives,  who 
were  attracted  to  their  camp  by  the  allurement 
of  plunder.  They  had  no  sooner  arrived  on 
the  frontier  of  Arcadia,  than  they  were  joined 
by  the  inhabitants  of  that  country,  as  well  as 
by  the  Elians  and  Argives.  This  united  mass 
of  war  exceeded  any  numbers,  that  either  be- 
fore or  afterwards,  ever  assembled  in  Greece 
under  one  standard,  amounting  to  fifty,  some 
say  to  seventy  thousand  men.7  The  Thebans, 
and  the  rest  of  the  Boeotians,  were  command- 
ed by  Epaminondas  and  Pelopidas,  to  whom 
the  generous  admiration  of  their  colleagues  had 
voluntarily  resigned  their  authority.  Apprised 
of  the  march  of  such  a formidable  army,  con- 
ducted by  generals  of  such  unquestionable 
merit,  Agesilaus  prepared  to  evacuate  Arcadia, 
a measure  which  he  fortunately  effected,  before 
his  soldiers  beheld  the  fires  kindled  in  the 
hostile  camp,  and  thus  avoided  the  disgrace 
of  retiring  before  the  enemy.8  His  unresisted 
devastation  of  the  territory  which  he  had  in- 
vaded, as  well  as  his  successful  retreat,  gave 
fresh  spirits  to  his  followers,  and  made  them 
return  with  better  hopes  to  defend  their  own 
country,  which  was  now  threatened  with  in- 
vasion. 

The  Thebans,  though  they  had  no  longer  any 
occasion  to  protect  the  Arcadians  from  insult, 
were  determined,9  by  many  powerful  motives, 
to  employ  the  vast  preparations  which  they  had 
collected.  Their  particular  resentment  against 
Sparta  was  heightened  by  the  general  voice  of 
their  allies,  who  exhorted  them  to  embrace  an 
opportunity  which,  perhaps,  might  never  return, 
utterly  to  destroy  a people  who  neither  could 
enjoy  tranquillity,  nor  allow  their  neighbours  to 
enjoy  it.  The  inhabitants  of  Carya,  and  of 
several  other  towns  in  Laconia,  declared  their 
resolution  to  revolt  from  Sparta,  as  soon  as  the 
enemy  should  enter  their  boundaries.  In  a 
council  of  war  summoned  by  the  Theban  gene- 
rals, it  was  therefore  determined  to  march 
without  farther  delay  into  the  Lacedaemonian 
territories,  to  lay  waste  the  country,  and  if  pos- 
sible, to  take  possession  of  the  capital. 

That  this  resolution  might  be  executed  with 
the  greater  celerity  and  effect,  the  army  was 
thrown  into  four  divisions,  destined,  by  separate 
roads,  to  break  into  the  devoted  province,  to  join 
forces  at  Sellasia,  and  thence  to  march  in  one 
body  to  Sparta.  The  Boeotians,  Elians,  and 
Argives  penetrated,  without  opposition,  by  the 


7 The  numbers  differ  in  Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  vi.  Pausan. 
•Bceotic.  Diodorus,  1.  xv.  and  Plut.  in  Pelopid. 

8 Xenoph.  p.  606. 

9 They  at  first  opposed  the  eagerness  of  the  Arcadians, 
5?lians,  end  Argives,  for  invading  Laconia,  considering  ot» 
iuTt) itSxKiarxTti  fttv  k,  Aocxujvixi)  tyiKno  iiveti,  q>p oupa?  Si 
HaSiTTxvxi  avO/ut£ov  i: n roif  ivx-goiroSuiTorvii.  “That 
it  would  be  difficult  to  penetrate  into  a country  defended 
(by  the  natural  strength  of  its  frontier,  or  by  vigilant  gar- 
risons.” Xenoph.  p.  607. 


particular  routes  which  had  been  assigned  them. 
But  when  the  Arcadians,  who  formed  the 
fourth  division  of  the  army,  attempted  to  tra- 
verse the  district  Sciritis,  the  brave  Ischilas, 
who  guarded  that  important  pass,  determined 
to  repel  them,  or  to  perish.  The  example  of 
Leonidas  at  Thermopylae  kindled  a generous 
enthusiasm  in  the  breast  of  this  gallant  Spartan. 
The  number  of  the  Arcadian  levies  so  far  ex- 
ceeded his  own,  that  death  seemed  the  sure 
reward  of  his  courage.  Yet  he  exhorted  all 
those  to  decline  danger  who  were  not  ambitious 
to  share  it.  He  even  commanded  the  youth  to 
leave  his  camp  before  Che  engagement,  deeming 
their  lives  too  precious  to  be  risked  in  so  des- 
perate an  enterprise.  He,  with  the  old  soldiers 
who  followed  him,  chose  the  present  opportu- 
nity to  meet  a glorious  death  in  defence  of  their 
country.  But  their  lives  were  sold  dearly. 
The  action  was  long  doubtful : the  loss  of  the 
Arcadians  great ; nor  did  the  battle  cease  till 
the  last  of  the  Spartans  had  perished.19 

The  confederates  having  soon  after  assembled 
at  Sellasia,  the  place  of  rendezvous,  marched 
forward  to  Sparta,  burning  and  destroying  all 
before  them.  During  five  hundred  years  La- 
conia had  not  experienced  a similar  calamity. 
The  guards  who  defended  the  city  were, thrown 
into  consternation.  The  women  were  terrified 
by  the  smoke  and  tumult  raised  by  the  invaders ; 
a spectacle,  concerning  which  it  had  been  their 
usual  boast,  that  they  alone  of  all  the  Grecian 
females,  had  never  beheld  it  in  their  native  land. 
Alarmed  by  the  danger  which  threatened  them, 
and  which  they  were  sensible  of  their  own 
inability  to  repel,  the  Spartans  embraced  the 
doubtful  expedient  of  giving  arms  to  their  pea- 
sants and  slaves,  whom  they  commonly  treated 
which  such  an  excess  of  cruelty.  Not  less  than 
six  thousand  of  these  unhappy  men  were  en- 
gaged, by  threats  or  promises,  to  undertake  the 
reluctant  defence  of  the  proud  tyrants,  whom 
they  detested.  Their  formidable  numbers  in- 
creased the  general  panic,  which  had  seized  the 
magistrates  and  citizens,  and  which  did  not 
finally  cease  until  the  arrival  of  a powerful  body 
of  men  from  Corinth,  Phlius,  Epidaurus,  and 
Pallend ; cities  which,  though  tney  had  ever 
opposed  the  despotism,  were  unwilling  to  permit 
the  destruction  of  Sparta. 

This  seasonable  reinforcement  not  only  re- 
moved the  consternation  of  the  Spartans,  but 
made  them  pass  with  rapidity  from  the  depths 
of  despondency  to  the  joys  of  success.  The 
kings  and  magistrates  could  scarcely  restrain 
their  impetuosity  from  rushing  into  the  field  : 
and  this  martial  enthusiasm,  guided  by  the  con- 
summate prudence  of  Agesilaus,  enabled  them 
to  repel  the  first  assaults  of  the  enemy,  and  to 
convince  them  that  every  succeeding  attempt  to 
get  possession  of  the  city,  must  be  attended 
with  such  fatigue,  and  danger,  and  loss  of  men, 
as  could  not  be  compensated  by  the  success  of 
that  enterprise.  The  conduct  of  Agesilaus, 
during  this  critical  emergency,  has  been  highly 


10  Xenoph.  1.  vi.  p.  607,  et  Diodor.  1.  xv.  p.  376.  The 
former  indeed  adds  s»  nv  ti;  x/u$iyvoii6iis  Sucuyi.  “Un- 
less, perhaps,  somo  one  escaped  unknown  through  the 
enemy.” 


334 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


extolled  by  all  writers,1 2  and  never  beyond  its 
merit.  By  a well-contrived  ambush  in  the 
temple  of  the  Tyndarida?,?  he  defeated  the 
designs  of  the  assailants  : by  very  uncommon 
presence  of  mind,3  he  quelled  a dangerous  in- 
surrection ; and,  while,  by  force  or  stratagem, 
he  overcame  the  united  efforts  of  domestic  and 
foreign  enemies,  he  negotiated  the  most  power- 
ful assistance  for  the  relief  of  his  country. 

Immediately  after  the  battle  of  Leuctra  the 
Athenians  had  declared  their  resolution  to  re- 
new and  confirm  the  treaty  of  Antalcidas, 
which,  though  it  diminished  the  grandeur,  yet 
secured  the  tranquillity  of  Greece,  and  prevent- 
ed the  weakness  of  any  one  republic  from  fall- 
ing a prey  to  the  ambition  of  another.  But 
notwithstanding  this  declaration,  which  was 
universally  approved  by  their  neighbours,  they 
had,  either  from  resentment  or  from  policy, 
remained  above  two  years  spectators  of  the  de- 
cline of  the  Lacedaemonian,  and  the  growth  of 
the  Theban  league.  Whatever  uneasiness  might 
be  occasioned  by  the  increasing  strength  of  their 
new  rival,  was  sufficiently  balanced  by  the  decay 
and  downfall  nf  their  ancient  and  inveterate 
enemy.  But  though,  doubtless,  they  ardently 
desired  the  ruin  of  the  Spartan  power,  they 
could  not  sincerely  approve  the  cruel  destruction 
of  their  persons,  and  of  their  city.  When  in- 
formed of  the  terrible  devastation  of  Laconia, 
they  naturally  felt  a return  of  compassion  for 
a people  whose  exploits,  on  many  memorable 
occasions,  had  done  such  signal  honour  to  the 
Grecian  name. 

The  emissaries  of  Agesilaus,  whose  superior 
mind  had  assumed  dictatorial  power  amidst  the 
distress  of  his  6ountry,  seized  the  favourable 
opportunity  to  urge,  with  the  Athenians,  many 
motives  of  action,  which  seldom  operate  amidst 
the  cold  lifeless  politics  of  modern  times. 
They  took  notice  that  the  Athenians  and  La- 
cedaemonians had  often  mutually  assisted  each 
other  in  seasons  of  distress,  and  that  the  most 
glorious  era  of  their  story  was  that  in  which 
the  two  republics  had  united  their  councils  and 
measures  against  a common  enemy.  That 
when  the  spirit  of  rivality  and  ambition  had 
unhappily  divided  Greece,  and  the  Athenians 
were  exposed  to  the  calamities  of  a long  and 
unfortunate  war,  they  had  been  protected  by 
the  humanity  of  Sparta  against  the  implacable 
rage  of  the  Thebans,  who  wished  to  demolish 
the  city  of  Athens,  and  to  reduce  its  territory 
to  the  barren  solitude  of  the  Crissean  plain. 
That  by  the  moderation  of  Sparta,  the  Athe- 
nians had  not  only  been  saved  from  the  ven- 
geance of  foreign  enemies,  but  delivered  from 
the  yoke  of  domestic  tyrants,  and  the  cruel  ty- 


1 Xenoph.  et  Plut.  in  Agesilao.  Diodorus,  1.  xv.  et 
Pausanias  Laeon. 

2 Castor  and  Pollux,  so  called  from  their  mother  Tyn- 
daris,  or  Leda. 

3 The  mutineers  had  entered  into  a conspiracy  to  seize 
an  important  post  in  the  city.  Agesilaus  observed  them  as 
they  marched  thither,  and  immediately  suspecting  their  de- 
sign, called  out,  that  they  had  mistaken  his  orders  ; adding 
his  meaning  to  be,  that  they  should  separate  into  different 
divisions,  and  repair  to  the  several  posts  which  he  named. 
The  conspirators  naturally  concluded  that  he  knew  nothing 
of  their  purpose,  and  separating,  as  he  commanded,  could 
never  afterwards  find  an  opportunity  to  unite  in  such  num- 
bers as  rendered  them  dangerons. 


fCllAP. 

ranny  of  the  Pisistratidae.  The  merit  of  these 
services  deserved  the  reward  of  gratitude  ; the 
hereditary  renown  of  Athens  urged  her  to  pro- 
tect the  miserable  ; and  justice  demanded  that 
she  should  assert,  and  maintain,  the  conditions 
of  a recent  treaty,  which  she  herself  had  pro- 
posed, and  which  the  Thebans,  after  accepting, 
had  so  manifestly  violated. 

A loud  and  discordant  murmur  ran  through 
the  assembly.  Some  approved  the  demand, 
others  observed  that  the  Spartans  changed  their 
language  with  their  fortune  ; that  they  had  for- 
merly, and  probably  would  again,  whenever 
they  became  powerful,  assume  a very  different 
tone,  and,  instead  of  colouring  by  false  disguises, 
display  in  its  native  force,  their  inveterate  en- 
mity to  Athens.  That  the  late  treaty  of  peace 
could  not  entitle  them  to  any  assistance,  since 
they  themselves  had  begun  the  war  by  the  in- 
vasion of  Arcadia  ; a war  undertaken  from  the 
unjust  motive  of  supporting  the  tyrannical 
usurpation  of  the  nobles  of  Tegea  over  the 
rights  of  their  fellow  citizens. 

Together  with  the  Lacedaemonian  ambassa- 
dors, had  come  those  of  Corinth  and  Phlius, 
cities  eminently  distinguished  by  an  unshaken 
fidelity  to  their  ancient  confederate  and  protec- 
tor. Cleiteles  the  Corinthian,  observing  what 
turn  the  debate  was  likely  to  take,  stood  up  and 
said,  “ Were  it  a matter  of  doubt,  Athenians ! 
who  are  the  aggressors,  the  melancholy  expe- 
rience of  our  state  would  remove  the  difficulty. 
Since  the  renovation  of  the  peace  of  Antalcidas, 
the  Corinthians,  surely,  have  not  committed 
hostilities  against  any  power  in  Greece.  Yet 
the  Thebans  have  entered  our  territory,  cut 
down  our  tr£es,  burned  our  houses,  plundered 
our  cattle  and  effects.  How,  then,  can  you  re- 
fuse your  assistance  to  those  who  have  been  so 
manifestly  injured,  in  direct  violation  of  the 
treaty,  to  which,  at  your  express  desire,  they 
acceded  and  swore  ?”  The  assembly  loudly 
approved  the  discourse  of  Cleiteles,  which  was 
supported  and  confirmed  by  the  arguments  and 
eloquence  of  Patrocles  the  Phliasian. 

“ It  is  manifest,  I think,  to  all  of  you, 
Athenians ! that  should  Sparta  be  destroyed, 
Athens  must  be  the  next  object  of  the  hostility 
of  Thebes,  since  that  city  alone  would  then 
stand  in  the  Way  of  her  ambition.  The  cause 
of  the  Lacedaemonians  therefore  is,  in  fact, 
your  own.  You  must  embrace  it  with  ardour, 
as  the  last  opportunity  which  the  gods  perhaps 
will  afford  you,  of  defending  the  general  free- 
dom at  the  head  of  your  allies,  and  of  preventing 
the  dangerous  domination  of  the  Thebans  ; the 
effects  of  which,  you,  who  are  their  neighbours, 
would  feel  with  peculiar  severity.  By  taking 
this  resolution,  which  is  equally  generous  and 
salutary,  you  will  acquire  a fund  of  merit,  not 
only  with  the  Spartans,  than  whom  none  were 
ever  more  mindful  of  favours,  or  more  ambi- 
tious of  honest  fame,  but  also  with  us  their  allies, 
who,  since  we  have  continued  faithful  to  our 
friends  in  their  adversity,  cannot  be  suspected 
of  ingratitude  to  our  prosperous  benefactors.  I 
have  heard  with  admiration  how,  in  ancient 
times,  the  injured  and  afflicted  always  had 
recourse  to  Athens,  and  were  never  disappointed 
of  relief.  I now  no  longer  hear,  but  see,  the 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


335 


XXXI.] 

Lacedaemonians,  with  their  faithful  allies,  soli- 
citing your  protection  against  the  Thebans, 
whose  unrelenting  cruelty  could  not  persuade 
Sparta,  in  the  height  of  her  resentment  and  of 
her  power,  to  desolate  your  country,  and  to  re- 
duce you  into  servitude.  Your  ancestors  ac- 
quired just  renown  by  saving  the  dead  bodies  of 
the  Argives,  to  whom  the  impiety  of  Thebes 
denied  the  sacred  rights  of  burial.4  How  much 
greater  renown  will  redound  to  you,  when  the 
Lacedaemonians,  by  your  generous  assistance, 
shall  be  saved  from  death.  It  was  deemed  me- 
ritorious in  them  to  have  defended  the  children 
of  Hercules  against  the  unnatural  persecution 
of  Eurystheus  ; but  it  will  be  far  more  glorious 
for  you  to  have  defended  not  only  the  descend- 
ants of  that  hero,  the  hereditary  kings  of  Lace- 
daemon, but,  along  with  them,  the  senate,  the 
magistrates,  the  people ; in  one  word,  to  have 
delivered  the  whole  nation  from  a danger  dread- 
ful in  itself,  and  otherwise  inevitable.  During 
the  prosperity  of  their  empire,  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians prevented  your  destruction  by  a decree, 
which  displayed  their  humanity,  without  expos- 
ing their  safety.  You  are  called  to  defend  the 
Lacedaemonians,  not  by  inactive  decrees,  but  by 
arms  and  courage.  Arm,  then,  in  their  behalf ; 
and,  forgetful  of  recent  animosities,  repay  the 
important  services  which,  in  the  Barbarian  war, 
the  valour  of  Sparta  rendered  to  Athens  and  to 
all  Greece.’' 

The  assembly  was  so  deeply  affected  by  the 
persuasive  discourse  of  the  Phliasian,  that  they 
refused  to  hear  any  thing  in  oppositon  to  it, 
and  determined,  almost  unanimously,  to  take 
the  field.  Iphicrates  was  named  general;  twelve 
thousand  men  were  ordered  to  repair  to  his 
standard ; the  sacrifices  were  propitious  ; the 
troops  took  a short  repast ; and  such  was  their 
ardour  to  meet  the  enemy,  that  many  of  them 
marched  forth  without  waiting  the  orders  of 
their  commander.5 

Epaminondas,  mean  while,  had  committed 
dreadful  devastation  in  Laconia.  His  repulse 
from  the  capital  had  exasperated  his  hostilities 
against  the  country.  He  had  desolated  the  fer- 
tile banks  of  the  Eurotas,  which  were  thick 
planted  with  houses,  and  abounding  in  all  the 
conveniences  of  life  known  to  the  austere  sim- 
plicity of  Sparta.  He  had  assaulted  Helos  and 
Gythium  ; and,  traversing  the  whole  province, 
had  destroyed  the  villages  by  fire,  and  the  in- 
habitants by  the  sword.  Even  these  terrible 
ravages  did  not  satisfy  his  resentment;  he  de- 
termined, that  the  invasion  of  Laconia  should 
not  be  a temporary  evil,  which  the  labour  of 
years  might  repair ; and  for  this  purpose  em- 
ployed an  expedient,  which,  even  after  he 
might  evacuate  their  country,  must  leave  the 
Lacedaemonians  exposed  to  the  rage  of  an  im- 
placable enemy. 

OlvmD  We  ^ave  occasion  to  relate 

cfi2  the  var40us  fortunes  of  the  Messe- 
AC369  n*an8,  About  three  centuries  be- 
fore the  period  now  under  review, 


4 See  p.  17.  The  facts  alluded  to  in  the  text  are  related 
in  all  the  panegyrics  of  Athens,  by  Plato,  Lysias,  Isocrates, 
and  Thucydides. 

5 This  whole  transaction  is  explained  in  Xenoph.  p.  G09 

—613. 


their  city  had  been  demolished  by  the  Spartans ; 
their  territory  had  been  seized,  and  divided 
among  that  people;  the  ancient  inhabitants 
had  been  .reduced  into  servitude,  and  compelled 
to  cultivate  their  paternal  fields  for  the  benefit 
of  cruel  masters ; or  dispersed  in  miserable 
banishment,  over  Greece,  Italy,  and  Sicily. 
After  two  centuries  of  humiliation  and  cala- 
mity, the  humanity,  or  perhaps  the  policy  of 
Athens,  took  compassion  on  this  unfortunate 
race,  and  settled  them  in  the  territory  df  Nau- 
pactus,  and  the  neighbouring  island  of  Cepha- 
lenia.  The  Messenians  displayed  their  grati- 
tude by  important  services  during  the  Pelopon- 
nesian war;  but  their  most  vigorous  exertions 
could  not  long  retard  the  declining  fortune  of 
Athens.  The  event  of  that  war  rendered  Sparta 
the  arbiter  of  Greece;  and  the  Messenians 
were  the  first  objects  of  her  memorable  tyranny, 
being  universally  enslaved,  banished,  or  put  to 
death.  It  is  probable  that  the  scattered  re- 
mains of  this  miserable  community  would  flock 
from  every  quarter  to  the  standard  of  Epami- 
nondas, rejoicing  in  an  opportunity  to  retaliate 
the  unrelenting  persecution  of  a people,  who 
now  suffered  the  calamities  which  they  had  so 
often  inflicted^  But  the  general  voice  of  his- 
tory ascribes  to  Epaminondas  the  merit  of 
assembling  the  Messenians.6  It  is  certain,  that 
he  rebuilt  their  city,  and  put  them  in  possession 
of  their  territory;  an  act  of  generous  compas- 
sion which  inflicted  a most  unexpected  and 
cruel  punishment  on  the  Spartans,  who  beheld 
the  ashes  of  a nation,  which  they  had  twice 
endeavoured  to  extinguish,  revive  and  flourish 
in  their  neighbourhood;  continually  increase 
by  the  accession  of  Spartan  subjects  and  slaves; 
and,  encouraged  by  a Theban  garrison,  and 
their  own  inveterate  hostility,  watch  every 
favourable  occasion  to  exert  the  full  power  of 
their  vengeance.7 

Epaminondas  had  accomplished  this  extraor- 
dinary enterprise,  when  he  received  intelligence 
of  the  motions  of  the  Athenian  army  com- 
manded by  Iphicrates.  That  illustrious  gene- 
ral had  allowed  the  ardour  of  his  troops  to 
evaporate,  by  pursuing  a conduct  which  it  is 
impbssible,  at  this  distance  of  time,  to  explain, 
but  which  the  military  historian8  condemns,  as 
highly  unworthy  of  his  former  renown.  When 
celerity  was  of  the  utmost  importance,  he* 
wasted  several  precious  days  at  Corinth,  with- 
out any  necessity,  or  even  pretence,  for  this 
unseasonable  delay.  His  soldiers  loudly  de- 
manded to  meet  the  enemy,  or  even  to  assault 
the  walls  of  Argos,  the  strongest  and  most 
populous  city  in  Peloponnesus,  and  not  inferior 
to  Thebes  itself  in  active  animosity  against  their 
common  foe.  Iphicrates,  however,  embraced 
none  of  those  measures,  but  led  his  army  to- 
wards Arcadia;  expecting,  perhaps,  what  actu- 
ally happened,  that  the  news  of  his  arrival 
there  would  deliver  Laconia  from  the  hostile 
invader. 

It  cannot  be  imagined,  indeed,  that  Epami- 
nondas feared  the  issue  of  an  engagement  with 


G Plutarch,  in  Pelopid.  Diodor.  1.  xv.  p.  491.  Pausan 

Messon.  p.  265. 

7 Diodor.  1.  xv.  c.  16. 

8 Xenoph.  1.  vi.  versus  iinera 


336 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


the  Athenians.  But  he  was  justly  alarmed 
with  the  interest  which  even  that  people  had 
taken  in  the  danger  of  Sparta.  The  indigna- 
tion and  resentment  which  they,  the  rivals  and 
enemies  of  the  injured,  discovered  on  this  occa- 
sion, taught  him  what  sentiments  his  conduct 
must  excite  in  more  impartial  states,  should  he 
persist  in  his  original  plan,  destroy  the  Lacedae- 
monian capital,  and,  as  the  orator  Leptines  ex- 
pressed it,  “pluck  out  an  eye  of  Greece.”1 
Many  concurring  causes  tended  also  to  accele- 
rate his  departure.  The  Arcadians  were  called 
home  to  defend  their  houses  and  families.  The 
Elians  and  Argives  were  anxious  to  secure 
their  booty  by  an  expeditious  retreat.  Even 
the  Thebans  were  weary  of  an  expedition 
which  had  consumed  several  winter  months,  a 
season  in  which  they  were  not  accustomed  to 
keep  the  field.  Provisions  likewise  grew  scarce; 
and  Epaminondas,  pressed  by  difficulties  on 
every  side,  prepared  to  evacuate  the  Lacedae- 
monian territories;  but  not  (in  the  words  of 
Xenophon)  until  “every  thing  of  value  had 
been  consumed  or  plundered,  poured  out,  or 
burned  down.”2 

At  the  same  time  that  the  Thebans  left  La- 
conia, Iphicrates  withdrew  the  Athenians  from 
the  country  which  they  had  invaded.  The  two 
armies  filed  off,  as  by  mutual  consent,  and  re- 
turned to  their  respective  cities  by  separate 
roads,  without  any  attempt  to  interrupt  the 
progress  of  each  other.  Iphicrates  was  blamed 
for  allowing  an  enemy,  heavy  with  plunder, 
and  exhausted  by  the  fatigue  of  a winter’s 
campaign,  to  pass  unmolested  through  the  isth- 
mus of  Corinth.  Pelopidas  and  Epaminondas 
were  accused  and  tried  before  the  Theban  as- 
sembly, for  protracting  the  term  of  their  com- 
mand beyond  the  time  limited  by  law.  The 
former  discovered  less  courage  than  might  have 
been  expected  from  his  impetuous  and  daring 
character.  He,  who  had  never  feared  the 
sword  of  an  enemy,  trembled  at  the  angry  voice 
of  his  insolent  accusers.  But  Epaminondas 
displayed,  on  this  occasion,  the  superiority  of 
philosophical  firmness,  seated  in  the  mind,  to 
that  constitutional  courage  which  is  the  result 
of  blood  and  spirits.  The  latter  is  sufficient  for 
a day  of  battle;  but  the  former  alone  can  yield 
support  in  every  vicissitude  of  fortune. 

Instead  of  observing  the  formality  of  a regu- 
lar defence,  the  illustrious  Theban  undertook 
the  invidious  task  of  pronouncing  his  own  pane- 
gyric. 3 After  relating  his  exploits,  without 
amplification,  and  without  diminution,  he  con- 
cluded by  observing,  “that  he  could  submit  to 
death  without  reluctance,  secure  of  immortal 
fame,  earned  in  the  service  of  his  country.” 
The  seditious  demagogues  were  awed  by  his 
magnanimity;  the  anger  of  the  assembly  against 
himself  and  his  colleague  dissolved  in  admira- 
tion ; and  Epaminondas  was  conducted  from 
the  tribunal  with  as  much  glory  as  from  the 
field  of  Leuctra. 

From  the  invasion  of  Laconia  to  the  general 
engagement  at  Mantinaea,  there  elapsed  six 


[Chap. 

years  of  indecisive  war  and  tumultuous  activity; 
battles  lost  and  gained,  conquests  made  and 
abandoned,  alliances  concluded  and  broken; 
treaties  of  peace  proposed,  accepted,  and  vio- 
lated, by  those  who  felt  the  unhappy  effects  of 
dissensions  which  their  rancorous  animosity 
was  unwilling  to  terminate.  In  examining  the 
history  of  this  period,  we  may  perceive  the  same 
confusion  in  the  relation,  which  appears  at  first 
sight  to  have  been  in  the  events  themselves.  It 
is  necessary,  however,  to  reduce  them  into  the 
form  of  a regular  narrative.  In  important  con 
cerns,  numerous  bodies  of  men,  however  they 
may  act  without  effect,  cannot  be  supposed  to 
act  entirely  without  design : their  motives,  un- 
steady and  capricious  as  they  often  are,  form 
the  invisible  chain  which  it  is  the  business  of 
the  historian  to  investigate  and  to  follow;  since 
it  is  otherwise  impossible  that  the  transactions  ’ 
which  he  describes,  should  afford  either  real  in- 
struction, or  any  rational  entertainment. 

Early  in  the  ensuing  spring,  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians, with  the  few  allies  who  still  adhered  to 
their  cause,  despatched  an  embassy  to  Athens, 
in  order  to  strengthen  the  bands  of 
i amity  and  union  with  that  republic. 

A C 363  con^erence  f°r  that  pur- 

pose, it  appeared  that  the  Spartans 
were  either  very  deeply  affected  by  the  recent 
obligations  conferred  on  them,  or  that  they  very 
earnestly  desired  the  continuance  of  similar 
favours.  They  acknowledged  that  the  expe- 
rience, the  bravery,  the  naval  victories  and  for- 
tune of  Athens,  justly  entitled  her  to  the  sove- 
reignty of  the  Grecian  seas ; and  when  this 
concession,  which  had  hitherto  been  withheld 
with  such  disdain,  could  not  satisfy  the  more 
patriotic,  or  rather  the  less  generous,  members 
of  the  assembly,  they  condescended  to~  grant 
another  acknowledgment  still  more  inconsis- 
tent with  the  pride  of  their  hereditary  preten- 
sions; that  in  such  military  expeditions  as  were 
undertaken  by  the  joint  forces  of  both  republics, 
the  command  should  be  equal  and  alternate  ; 
so  that  an  army  of  Lacedaemonians  (a  thing 
hitherto  unexampled)  would  be  commanded 
during  half  the  campaign  by  Athenian  generals. 
Patrocles  the  Phliasian,  whose  eloquence  and 
address  had  been  distinguished  in  the  former 
negotiation,  was  not  less  active  in  the  present ; 
chiefly  by  his  intervention,  matters  were  finally 
adjusted;  an  alliance  of  the  most  intimate  kind 
was  concluded  between  the  two  republics ; and, 
by  the  assistance  of  the  generous  Phliasian,  the 
Spartans  obtained  this  important  advantage, 
without  the  disgrace  of  many  ineffectual  over- 
tures, or  the  mortification  of  long  supplicatory 
speeches,  which  they  deemed  of  all  things  the 
most  grievous.4 

The  Spartan  negotiations,  so  fortunate  in 
Athens,  were  equally  successful  with  Dionysius 
tyrant  of  Sicily,  and  Artaxerxes  king  of  Persia. 
The  former,  himself  a Dorian,  naturally  la- 
mented the  humiliation  and  distress  of  a people, 
who,  during  seven  hundred  years,  had  formed 
the  principal  ornament  and  defence  of  the  Do- 
rian race;  and  the  latter  pursued  his  ordinary 
system  of  politics,  of  assisting  the  weaker  party. 


1 Aristot.  Rhetor.  1.  iii.  c.  10. 

2 Xenoph.  p.  612. 

3 Plut.  de  sui  Laude,  p.  540. 


4 Xenoph.  p.  613 — 616. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE.  * 


337 


XXXJ.J 

in  order  to  balance  the  contending  powers,  and 
to  perpetuate  the  hostilities  of  Greece. 

While  the  Lacedaemonians  gained  strength 
by  these  important  alliances,  their  enemies  took 
the  field.  The  Arcadians  began  the  campaign 
by  entering  the  territory  of  Pallene,  an  Achaean 
republic,  which  still  remained  faithful  to  Sparta. 
The  country  was  laid  waste,  the  villages  burn- 
ed, the  city  taken  by  storm,  and  the  garrison, 
consisting  of  three  hundred  men,  partly  Lace- 
daemonians, put  to  the  sword.  Soon  after  this 
success,  the  Arcadians  were  joined  by  the 
Elians  and  Argives.  Epaminondas  likewise 
marched  southward  at  the  head  of  the  Thebans, 
their  foot  amounting  to  seven  thousand,  and 
their  cavalry  to  five  hundred.  Before  he  reach- 
ed the  Isthmus,  the  Lacedaemonians  had  been 
reinforced  by  a body  of  two  thousand  Sicilian 
troops,  agreeably  to  their  treaty  with  Diony- 
sius; and  the  Athenians  had  taken  the  field, 
under  the  command  of  Chabrias,  actually  the 
most  respected,  or  at  least  the  most  popular,  of 
their  generals.  It  was  naturally  the  object  of 
the  Spartan  and  Athenian  commanders,  to  pre- 
vent the  junction  of  Epaminondas  with  his 
southern  allies.  For  this  purpose  they  strongly 
guarded,  and  even  fortified ' the  Isthmus;  an 
expedient  which  had  not  been  put  in  practice 
since  the  expedition  of  Xerxes.  The  Thebans, 
however,  broke  through,  took  Sicyon,  and  as- 
saulted Corinth.  But  Chabrias,  who  happen- 
ed at  this  time  to  enjoy  the  alternate  command, 
repulsed  them  with  such  loss,  that  Epaminon- 
das judged  proper  to  retire  homeward ; on 
which  account  he  was  blamed  and  disgraced 
by  his  countrymen,  who,  insolent  with  pros- 
perity, thought  themselves  entitled  always  to 
conquer. 

The  unexpected  retreat  of  the  Thebans,  of 
which  it  is  not  easy  to  conjecture  the  real 
cause,5  occasioned  much  dissatisfaction  among 
their  confederates,  particularly  the  Arcadians. 
This  simple,  but  warlike  people,  had  obtained 
distinguished  honour  in  several  recent  expedi- 
tions. They  were  usually  conducted  by  the 
Mantinaean  Lycomedes,  a man  gallant  in  enter- 
prise and  persevering  in  execution ; rich,  noble, 
eloquent,  generous,  and  affable.  Under  a com- 
mander equally  respected  and  beloved,  the  Ar- 
cadians found  nothing  too  arduous  for  their 
courage.  In  regular  engagements,  they  com- 
monly proved  victorious  wherever  they  fought. 
But  their  principal  merit  was  displayed  in  am- 
bushes and  surprise,  and  all  the  dangerous  stra- 
tagems of  desultory  war.  When  a favourable 
occasion  summoned  their  activity, neither  length 
of  way,  nor  difficult  mountains,  nor  storms, 
nor  darkness,  could  interrupt  their  course,  or 
prevent  their  unexpected  assault.6  Unassisted 
and  alone,  they  had  often  defeated  superior 
strength  and  numbers ; and  when,  together  with 
their  Peloponnesian  allies,  they  served  under 
the  Theban  standard,  their  prowess  had  been 
acknowledged  and  admired  by  the  united  army. 

The  repulse  and  retreat  of  Epaminondas  gave 


5 The  Theban  demagogues,  as  we  learn  from  Diodorus 
and  Plutarch,  accused  Epaminondas  of  treacherous  cor- 
respondence with  the  enemy,  or  at  sast  of  secretly  favour- 
ing their  cause ; but  this  is  altogether  improbable. 

6 Vid.  Xenoph.  618,  et  seq. 

2U 


relief  and  splendour  to  the  recent  glory  of  Ar 
cadia,  and  inspired  Lycomedes  with  an  ambi* 
tion  which  he  easily  communicated  to  his  coun- 
tryman. He  told  them,  “ That  they  were  the 
most  ancient,  the  most  populous,  and  surely 
not  the  least  warlike  community  in  Pelopon- 
nesus ; but  that  they  had  hitherto  neglected  to 
profit  of  the  advantages  which  they  possessed. 
In  the  memorable  war  of  twenty-seven  years, 
they  had  joined  with  the  Lacedaemonians, 
whom  they  had  raised  to  an  authority,  of 
which  the  Arcadians,  as  well  as  the  rest  of 
Greece,  felt  the  intolerable  oppression.  That 
of  late  years  they  had  acted  with  the  Thebans, 
who,  by  their  assistance  chiefly,  had  attained  a 
very  alarming  degree  of  power,  which  they 
occasionally  exerted  or  remitted,  as  suited  their 
own  convenience,  without  the  smallest  regard 
to  the  interest  of  their  confederates.  If  this 
power  should  be  increased,  might  not  the  yoke 
of  Thebes  become  as  grievous  as  that  of  Sparta? 
It  was  time  for  the  Arcadians  to  know  their 
own  worth  ; to  disdain  following  the  standard 
of  any  foreign  state  ; and  not  only  to  vindicate 
their  freedom,  but  to  claim  their  just  pre-emi- 
nence.” The  assembly  applauded  the  manly7 
resolution  of  Lycomedes;  and,  in  order  to  ren- 
der it  effectual,  determined  to  keep  possession 
of  such  places  as  they  had  taken  from  the  La- 
cedaemonians or  their  allies  in  Elis  and  Achaia, 
and  to  complete  their  conquests  in  these  and 
the  neighbouring  provinces  of  Peloponnesus. 
Oivmn  For  several  months  they  met  with 

ciii  2?*  interruPtion  *n  this  design, 

A "c  *367  ^ie  SPartans’  a^ter  ^ie  departure 
of  their  auxiliaries,  not  venturing 
to  take  the  field  until  the  beginning  of  the  en- 
suing year,  when  they  received  a new  supply 
of  troops  from  Dionysius,  and  both  troops®  and 
money  from  Artaxerxes.  The  Theban  arms 
were  actually  employed  in  Thessaly  and  Ma- 
cedon,  as  we  shall  have  occasion  hereafter  to 
relate  ; so  that  every  circumstance  conspired  to 
hasten  the  march  of  Agesilaus  and  the  Lace- 
daemonians. But  the  infirmities  incident  to  old 
age  made  him  decline  the  command,  which  was 
entrusted  to  his  son  Archidamus;  his  colleague 
Agesipolis  not  possessing  great  abilities  either 
for  war  or  government. 

The  rapid  success  of  Archidamus,  who  seem- 
ed destined  to  restore  the  declining  fortune  of 
Sparta,  justified  the  prudent  choice  of  the  ma- 
gistrates and  people.  He  expelled  the  hostile 
garrisons  from  the  inferior  cities  of  Laconia, 
stormed  Caryae,  and  put  the  rebellious  inhabit- 
ants to  the  sword.  From  thence  he  hastened 
to  Arcadia,  laid  waste  the  southern  frontier  of 
that  province,  and  prepared  to  attack  the  po- 
pulous city  of  Parrhasia,  when  the  united 
strength  of  the  Arcadians,  commanded  by  Ly- 
comedes, and  reinforced  by  the  Argives,  ap- 
proached to  its  relief.  Their  arrival  made  Ar- 
chidamus withdraw  to  the  hills  that  overhang  the 
obscure  village  of  Midea.  While  he  encamped 
there,  Cissidas,  who  commanded  the  Sicilians, 
declared  that  the  time  limited  for  his  absence 


7 Xenophon’s  expression  is  lively ; /aovov  uvS^et 
tiyoovrej,  “ thinking  him  tho  on>y  man.”  L.  vii.  p.  618. 

8 These  were  not  Persians,  but  gcvixoi,  “ Greek  merce- 
naries.” Xenoph.  1.  vii.  p.  619 


338 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


was  expired,  and,  without  waiting  an  answer, 
ordered  his  forces  to  prepare  their  baggage,  and 
to  march  towards  Laconia.  But  the  nearest 
passage  into  that  country  had  been  seized  by 
the  Messenians.  In  this  difficulty  Cissidas  ap- 
plied to  Archidamus,  who  hastened  to  his  de- 
fence. The  Arcadians  and  Argives  at  the  same 
time  decamped.  The  hostile  armies  encounter- 
ed near  the  joining  of  the  two  roads  which  led 
towards  Sparta  from  Midea  and  Eutresios.  As 
soon  as  Archidamus  beheld  the  enemy  prepared 
for  an  engagement,  he  commanded  the  Spar- 
tans to  form,  and  when  they  wTere  ready  to  ad- 
vance, addressed  them  as  follows:  “Fellow 
citizens  and  friends ! if  we  are  still  brave,  we 
may  look  forward  with  confidence  ; we  may 
yet  retrieve  our  affairs,  and  deliver  down  the 
republic  to  posterity  as  we  received  it  from  our 
ancestors.  Let  us  strive,  then,  by  one  glorious 
effort,  to  recover  our  hereditary  renown  ; and 
let  us  cease  being  the  reproach  (instead  of  what 
the  Spartans  once  were,  the  ornament  and  de- 
fence) of  our  friends,  our  parents,  our  families, 
and  our  country.” 

While  he  yet  spoke,  it  thundered  on  the  right, 
though  the  day  was  clear  and  serene.  The  sol- 
diers, roused  by  the  noise,  looked  towards  the 
direction  from  wrhich  it  came,  and  beheld,  in  a 
consecrated  grove  at  no  great  distance,  an  altar 
and  statue  of  Hercules,  the  great  progenitor  of 
Archidamus  and  the  Spartan  kings.  Animated 
by  the  wonderful  concurrence  of  such  auspicious 
circumstances,  they  were  transported  with  an 
enthusiasm  of  valour,  and  impetuously  rushed 
against  their  opponents,  in  full  confidence  of 
victory.  The  enemy,  who  thought  they  had 
to  do  with  a vanquished  and  spiritless  people, 
were  astonished  at  their  mien  and  aspect  as 
they  advanced  to  the  attack.  The  few  wTho 
waited  their  approach,  were  totally  destroyed  ; 
many  thousands  perished  in  the  pursuit ; it  is 
said  by  ancient  historians,1  that  the  Spartans 
lost  not  a man.  Archidamus  erected  a trophy, 
and  despatched  a messenger  to  Sparta.  The 
people  were  assembled,  when  he  communicated 
his  extraordinary  intelligence.  The  aged  Age- 
silaus  shed  tears  of  joy.  The  epliori  and  sena- 
tors sympathised  with  the  emotions  of  their 
king.  The  patriotic  weakness  was  communi- 
cated from  breast  to  breast ; the  amiable  con- 
tagion spread;  the  sternest  members  of  this 
numerous  assembly  dissolved  in  softness,  and 
melted  in  sensibility.2 

The  Spartans  were  prevented  from  reaping 
the  full  fruits  of  this  victory,  by  a considerable 
reinforcement  which  the  Arcadians  soon  after- 
wards received  from  Thebes.  By  the  assistance 
of  these  troops,  the  Menalians  and  Parrhasians, 
who,  from  their  situation  on  the  southern  fron- 
tier of  Arcadia,  were  most  exposed  to  the  in- 
cursions of  the  enemy,  found  means  to  exe- 
cute a design  said  to  have  been  formerly  sug- 
gested by  Epaminondas.  They  abandoned 
twenty  straggling  and  defenceless  villages ; and 
choosing  an  advantageous  situation  in  the 
centre  of  their  territory,  erected  a fortress  there, 


1 Xenoph.  1.  vii.  p.  620.  Diodor,  et  Plat,  ubi  supra. 

2 Xenoph.  ibid.  He  observes,  our»  xc»vov  r«  ug » %»g» 
xsi  Xua-»),  5a*fv»  »tt»v.  “ So  common  are  tears  to  joy 
and  sorrow.” 


[Chap. 

which  they  surrounded  with  a strong  wall. 
The  benefit  of  security  attracted  new  inhabit- 
ants ; the  walls  were  extended ; the  place  ac- 
quired the  magnificent  name  of  Megalopolis,3 
the  last  city  built  by  the  Greeks,  while  they 
.preserved  the  dignity  of  independent  govern- 
ment.4 

The  temporary  success  of  the  Spartans  un- 
der Archidamus,  which  is  generally  ascribed  to 
the  valour  of  that  commander,  was  principally 
occasioned  by  the  withdrawing  from  Pelopon- 
nesus, at  a very  critical  juncture,  the  numerous 
army  of  Thebes,  which  was  at  that  time  called 
northward,  in  order  to  take  an  important  and 
honourable  part  in  the  affairs  of  Macedon  and 
Thessaly.  Since  the  atrocious  murder  of  the 
heroic  Jason,  the  latter  kingdom  had  been  af- 
flicted by  a continued  train  of  crimes  and  dis- 
orders. Just  gratitude  and  respect  towards  the 
memory  of  their  generous  and  warlike  chief, 
engaged  the  Thessalians  to  perpetuate  the  ho- 
nours of  his  family.  He  was  succeeded  by  his 
brothers  Polydore  and  Polyphron ; of  whom 
the  latter,  not  being  able  to  endure  the  restraint 
of  a limited,  much  less  of  a divided  rule,  at- 
tained, by  the  assassination  of  his  colleague, 
the  sole  dominion  of  Thessaly.  His  stem 
despotism  was  abolished  by  the  hand  of  Alex- 
ander, who  avenged  the  blood  of  his  kinsman5 
Polydore,  the  only  meritorious  action  of  his 
life.  For  Alexander  (as  his  character  is  re- 
presented to  us)  exceeded  the  cruelties  of  Po- 
lyphron, and  of  all  the  detested  tyrants  that 
have  ever  been  condemned  to  the  infamy  of 
history.  The  Thessalians  were  delivered  from 
such  a monster  by  the  domestic  conspiracy  of 
his  wife  Thebe,  the  daughter  of  Jason,  and  her 
brothers  Tisiphonus,  Pitholaus,  and  Lycophron ; 
who  governed  with  precarious  sway,  till  the 
power  and  address  of  Philip  destroyed  their 
usurpation,  and  rendered  their  distracted  coun- 
try, which  seemed  incapable  of  freedom,  a 
province  of  Macedonia.  Such,  in  few  words, 
were  the  revolutions  of  Thessaly ; but  the 
bloody  reign  of  Alexander  demands  more  par- 
ticular attention,  being  connected  with  the  ge- 
neral revolutions  of  Greece. 

A cautious  reader  will  always  receive,  with 
some  distrust,  the  accounts  transmitted  by  an- 
cient republicans  of  the  lives  and  actions  of 
tyrants.6  The  popular  histories  of  Alexander 
remind  us  of  the  fanciful  descriptions  of  Busi- 
ris  or  Pygmalion.  Yet  it  cannot  be  doubted 
that  the  tyrant  of  Thessaly  was  cruel  to  his 
subjects,  perfidious  to  his  allies,  implacable  to 
his  enemies,  a robber  by  land,  and  a pirate  at 
sea:7  but  that  it  was  his  usual  diversion  to 
bury  men  alive,  to  enclose  them  in  the  skins  of 


3 “The  great  city.” 

4 I have  melted  together  Pausanias  in  Bceotic.  and  Dio 
dorus,  1.  xv.  p.  384.  but  followed  the  chronology  of  the  latter 

5 His  brother,  uncle,  or  father,  according  to  different  au 
tbors. 

6 The  acceptation  of  the  word  tyrant  in  Greek  history* 
is  well  known.  The  Greeks  called  TVfsewoj,  “tyrants,** 
those  who  had  acquired  sovereignty  in  states  formerly  re- 
publican. Thessaly,  Sicily,  Corinth,  &c.  were  governed, 
not  by  /3*<riXEif,  but  tu^xwoe,  “ not  by  kings,  but  tyrants ; 
whereas  Macedonia,  which  had  never  been  subject  to  any 
species  of  popular  government,  was  ruled,  not  byrvfarvoi, 
but  pxo-iXfi?  “ not  by  tyrants,  but  kings.” 

7 These  are  the  works  of  Xenophon,  p.  601. 


XXXI.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


339 


wild  beasts,  as  a prey  to  ravenous  dogs,  to  mu- 
tilate and  torture  children  in  the  presence  of 
their  parents, 8 can  scarcely  be  reconciled  with 
his  shedding  tears  for  the  imaginary  sufferings 
of  Hecuba  and  Andromache,  during  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  Troades.9  It  is  true,  that  he 
is  said  to  have  been  ashamed  of  this  weakness, 
and  to  have  left  the  theatre  with  confusion  ; 
but  what  could  have  engaged  a monster,  such 
as  Alexander  is  described,  to  listen  to  the  pa- 
thetic strains  of  the  tender  Euripides?  What 
pleasure,  or  what  pain,  could  a tyger,  thirsting 
for  human  blood,  receive  from  such  an  enter- 
tainment? Although  we  abstract  from  his  story 
many  incredible  fictions,  Alexander  might  well 
deserve  the  resentment  of  the  Thessalians.  His 
injured  subjects  took  arms,  and  solicited  the 
protection  of  Thebes,  whose  justice  or  ambi- 
tion readily  embraced  their  cause.  As  Epami- 
nondas  still  continued  under  the  displeasure  of 
his  country,  the  Theban  army  was  conducted 
by  Pelopidas  and  Ismenias.  Their  arrival 
struck  terror  into  the  conscious  breast  of  the 
tyrant,  who,  without  daring  to  trust  his  defence 
to  the  numerous  guards  and  mercenaries  by 
whom  his  usurpation  was  supported,  implored 
the  clemency  of  the  Theban  generals,  submit- 
ting to  the  most  humiliating  conditions  which 
their  wisdom  might  judge  proper  to  exact  for 
the  future  security  of  his  subjects.19 
p..  This  transaction  was  scarcely 

ciii  c>'  ended,  when  the  Thebans,  whose 
A *C  367  rePu^a^on  anc*  success  rendered 
them  the  most  proper  mediators  in 
the  affairs  of  their  neighbours,  were  invited 
into  Macedon,  which,  since  the  death  of  Amyn- 
tas  II.  had  been  a prey,  during  six  years,  to  all 
the  calamities  of  a disputed  succession.  Amyn- 
tas  left  three  legitimate  sons,  Alexander,  Per- 
diccas,  and  Philip,  and  a natural  son,  Ptolemy, 
whose  intrigues  chiefly  occasioned  the  disorders 
of  the  kingdom.  He  could  not  prevent  the 
accession  of  Alexander  to  the  throne,  as  that 
prince  had  attained  the  age  of  manhood  at  the 
time  of  his  father’s  death.  But  he  imbittered 
and  shortened  his  reign,  which  lasted  only  one 
year ; after  which  Ptolemy  assumed  the  reins 
of  government,  as  guardian  of  the  minority  of 
Perdiccas,  and  protector  of  Macedon.  It  soon 
appeared,  however,  that  his  ambition  would  not 
rest  satisfied  with  the  borrowed  power  of  a re- 
gent. He  gained  a considerable  party  to  his 
interest,  baffled  the  opposition  of  Perdiccas’s 
partisans,  and  boldly  usurped  the  sovereignty. 
The  friends  of  that  unfortunate  prince  had  re- 
course to  the  justice  and  power  of  Thebes.  Pe- 
lopidas entered  Macedon  at  the  head  of  his 
army ; restored  the  numerous  exiles  whom 
Ptolemy  had  banished  ; asserted  the  just  rights 
of  Perdiccas  to  the  throne ; and,  after  receiv- 
ing hostages  from  the  contending  factions, 
among  whom  was  Philip,  the  younger  brother 
of  Perdiccas,  afterwards  king  of  Macedon,  and 
conqueror  of  Greece,  returned  towards  Thes- 
saly, having  finally  re-established  the  tranquil- 
lity of  the  neighbouring  kingdom.* 11 


8 Plut.  in  Pelopid. 

9 Plut.  de  Fort.  Alexand. 

10  Diodor.  1.  xv.  c.  xvir.  and  Plut.  in  Pelopid. 

11  Ibid. 


Q,  In  his  journey  through  a country 

ciiftP-  where  he  had  so  lately  acted  the 
part  of  a judge  and  master,  it  seem- 
* ed  as  if  little  danger  could  reason- 
ably be  apprehended.  Pelopidas  had  sent  before 
him  a considerable  detachment  of  his  army,  to 
conduct  the  Macedonian  hostages  towards 
Thebes.  With  the  remainder  he  marched  se- 
curely through  the  territory  of  his  Thessalian 
confederates,  when  he  was  informed  that  Alex- 
ander had  come  to  meet  him  at  the  head  of  his 
mercenaries.  Even  this  suspicious  circumstance 
could  not  undeceive  the  sanguine  credulity  of 
the  Theban  chief.  He  imagined  that  the  ty- 
raht  had  taken  this  measure  in  order  to  show 
him  respect,  and  to  justify  himself  ag<linst  some 
recent  complaints  of  his  injured  subjects.  With 
an  imprudence  which  all  historians  agree  to 
condemn,12  both  Pelopidas  and  Ismenias  threw 
themselves  into  the  hands  of  a traitor,  who 
gloried  in  despising  laws  human  and  divine. 
They  were  instantly  seized  by  his  order,  carried 
to  Pherae,  bound,  imprisoned,  and  exposed  to 
the  insulting  eyes  of  an  invidious  multitude. 

It  might  be  expected  that  the  Theban  soldiers 
should  have  been  animated  with  indignation  and 
rage  at  the  unexampled  treatment  of  their  be- 
loved chiefs.  But  their  numbers  were  too  small 
to  contend  with  the  Thessalian  mercenaries; 
and  when  a powerful  reinforcement  arrived 
from  Bceotia,  they  fatally  experienced,  in  the 
first  encounters  with  the  enemy,  the  absence  of 
Pelopidas,  and  the  degradation  of  his  magnani- 
mous friend.  The  army  was  reduced  to  the 
utmost  difficulties,  encompassed  on  every  side, 
unwilling  to  fight,  and  unable  to  fly.  The 
troops  justly  accused  the  inexperience  of  their 
commanders,  remembering  their  glorious  cam- 
paigns in  the  Peloponnesus,  where  they  con- 
tended with  far  more  formidable  enemies. 
Epaminondas,  who  had  commanded  them  on 
those  memorable  occasions,  actually  served  in 
the  ranks.  The  soldiers  with  one  accord 
saluted  him  general.  The  singular  abilities  of 
this  extraordinary  man  soon  changed  the  posture 
of  affairs;  the  tyrant  was  defeated  in  his  turn, 
and  compelled  to  retire.  Epaminondas,  instead 
of  pushing  him  to  extremity,  which  might  have 
turned  his  desperate  fury  against  the  valuable 
lives  of  the  Theban  prisoners,  hovered  round 
with  a victorious  army,  ostentatiously  displayed 
the  advantages  of  military  skill  and  conduct; 
and  while  he  kept  Alexander  in  continual  re- 
spect and  fear,  yet  left  him  sufficient  time 
for  repentance  and  submission.  This  judicious 
plan  of  operations  was  attended  with  success. 
The  tyrant  implored  peace ; but  he  only  re- 
ceived a truce  of  thirty  days,  on  condition  of 
restoring  the  persons  of  Pelopidas  and  Isme- 
nias.13 

Those  who  love  to  find  in  history  events  ex- 
traordinary and  romantic,  would  not  easily  ex- 
cuse my  omitting  to  mention  the  interview  of 
Pelopidas,  during  his  imprisonment,  with  the 


12  Besides  Diodorus  and  Plutarch,  the  sage  Polybius  se- 
verely arraigns  the  imprudent  confidence  of  Pelopidas. 
Polyb.  Casaub.  t.  ii.  p.  98.  Polybius  in  that  passage  speaks 
of  the  expedition  as  an  embassy.  I have  carefully  com- 
pared the  different  writers,  and  adopted  the  account  that 
seemed  most  probable  and  consistent. 

13  Plut.  in  Pelopid.  et  Diodorus,  ibid. 


340 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Thessalian  queen.  The  daughter  of  the  heroic 
Jason  united  the  beauty  of  the  one  sex  with  the 
courage  of  the  other,  and  was  beloved  by  her 
husband  with  such  love  as  a tyrant  can  feel, 
which  is  always  corrupted  by  suspicion.  At 
her  earnest  and  repeated  entreaties,  Thebe  was 
permitted  to  see,  and  converse  with,  the  Theban 
"eneral,  whose  merit  and  fame  she  had  long 
admired.  But  his  appearance  did  not  answer 
her  expectation.  At  beholding  his  neglected 
and  squalid  figure,  she  Avas  seized  with  an  emo- 
tion of  pity,  and  exclaimed,  “ How  much, 
Pelopidas,  do  I lament  your  wife  and  family.” 
“ You,  Thebe ! are  more  to  be  lamented,” 
replied  the  Theban  hero,  u who,  without  being 
a prisoner,  continue  the  voluntary  slave  of  a 
perfidious  and  cruel  tyrant.”  The  expression 
is  said  to  have  sunk  deep  into  the  heart  of  the 
queen,  who  remembered  the  reproach  of  Pelo- 
pidas, when  ten  years  afterwards,  she  support- 
ed the  courage,  and  urged  the  hand,  of  the  as- 
sassins of  Alexander.1  But  this  moral  narra- 
tive, however  strongly  authenticated,  cannot  be 
attentively  read  without  occasioning  some  de- 
gree of  scepticism  concerning  the  history  of  Al- 
exander. Had  he  been  the  monster  which  re- 
sentment or  credulity  has  taken  pleasure  to  de- 
lineate, who  never  entered  the  apartment  of 
his  wife  without  an  armed  attendant,  who  slept 
in  a lofty  inaccessible  tower,  to  which  he 
mounted  by  a ladder,  and  which  was  guarded 
by  a fierce  dog,2  it  is  incredible  that  he  should 
have  permitted  an  interview  between  a secret 
and  open  enemy. 

Nor  will  it  be  easy  to  reconcile  with  the 
fierceness  of  the  Thessalian,  another  anecdote, 
which  has  probably  been  invented  to  display  the 
magnanimity  of  Pelopidas,  but  which  displays 
still  more  strongly  the  patience  of  Alexander. 
During  the  confinement  of  the  former  at  Pherae, 
the  latter  is  said  to  have  exceeded  his  usual 
cruelties  towards  the  inhabitants  of  that  city. 
Pelopidas  consoled  their  affliction,  and  encou- 
raged them  to  hope  for  vengeance.  He  even 
sent  to  reproach  the  absurdity  of  the  tyrant,  in 
destroying  daily  so  many  innocent  men,  from 
whom  he  had  nothing  to  fear,  while  he  allowed 
an  enemy  to  live,  who  would  employ  the  first 
moment  of  freedom  to  punish  his  manifold 
enormities.  w And  is  Pelopidas  so  desirous  to 
die  ?”  was  the  answer  of  the  Thessalian. 
“ Yes,”  replied  the  prisoner,  “ that  you  may 
the  sooner  perish,  having  rendered  yourself 
still  more  obnoxious  to  gods  and  men.”3  The 
resentment  of  Pelopidas,  if  ever  it  was  ex- 
pressed, proved  an  empty  boast ; for  imme- 
diately after  his  deliverance,  the  Theban  army 
was,  for  very  urgent  reasons,  withdrawn  from 
Thessaly. 

01  The  Theban  expedition  in  the 

ciii  2^"  n°rth  had  allowed  the  Spartans,  in 
» p some  degree,  to  recover  their  in- 

fluence in  the  south  of  Greece. 


1 Xenopli.  p.  601. 

2 Cicero  de  Offic.  1.  2.  Plut.  in  Pelopid.  But  the  story, 
os  related  by  Xenophon,  is  divested  of  such  impropable 
fictions;  and  Xenophon  seems  hardly  to  believe  all  he  re- 
lates. He  says,  ktyt ra*  usro  tjv»v, — and  repeats  that  it 
was  a hear  say,  a few  sentences  below. 

■3  Piutarch.  in  Pelopid. 


[Chap. 

Archidamus  had  obtained  a complete  victory 
over  the  Arcadians,  the  bravest  and  most  pow 
erful  of  the  confederates.  The  crafty^  Antal- 
cidas,  with  Euthycles,6  a Spartan  of  abilities 
and  intrigue,  had  been  sent  as  ambassadors  to 
Persia,  in  order  to  hasten  the  supplies  of  troops, 
or  money,  expected  from  that  country.  It  was 
time  for  Thebes  to  assert  her  interest  in  the 
Peloponnesus,  and  to  counteract  the  dangerous 
negotiations  of  her  enemies  with  Artaxerxes. 
Epaminondas,  whose  recent  and  illustrious 
merit  had  silenced  the  unjust  clamours  of  fac- 
tion, was  confirmed  in  his  military  command  ; 
and  Pelopidas,  whose  unfortunate  adventure  in 
Thessaly  was  ascribed  less  to  his  own  impru- 
dence than  to  the  treachery  of  Alexander,  was 
despatched  to  the  East,  as  the  person  best  quali- 
fied to  conduct  a negotiation  with  the  ministers 
of  the  great  king.  He  was  accompanied  by  the 
ambassadors  of  Elis,  Argos,  and  Arcadia;  those 
of  Athens  followed  soon  afterwards ; so  that 
there  appeared,  for  the  first  time,  a general 
congress  of  the  Grecian  states,  to  settle  and  ad- 
just their  interests  at  the  court  of  a foreign 
prince.  It  might  be  expected,  that  a scene  so 
new  and  interesting  should  have  excited  the 
attention  of  historians ; yet  they  have  left  us 
ignorant  in  what  city  of  his  dominions  Ar- 
taxerxes received  the  Greeks.  At  their  arrival, 
the  king  treated  Antalcidas  with  that  partial 
kindness  due  to  an  ancient  guest  and  favourite; 
but  at  their  public  audience,  the  appearance,  the 
fame,  and  the  eloquence  of  Pelopidas,  more 
majestic  than  that  of  Athens,  more  nervous 
than  that  of  Sparta,6  entitled  him  to  a just 
preference,  which  the  king,  whose  rank  and 
temper  alike  disdained  restraint,  was  at  no  pains 
to  conceal. 

The  Theban  represented,  that  in  the  battle 
of  Plataea,  fought  above  a century  ago,  and  ever 
since  that  memorable  engagement,  his  country 
men  had  uniformly  adhered  to  the  interest  of 
Persia,  at  the  risk  of  losing  whatever  men  hold 
most  precious.  That  the  dangerous  war  in  which 
they  were  actually  engaged,  had  been  occasioned 
by  their  open  and  steady  opposition  to  the  mea- 
sures of  the  Spartans,  previous  to  their  destruc- 
tive invasions  of  Asia.  The  imperious  pride  of 
Agesilaus  could  never  forget  the  affront  offered 
him  at  Aulis,  when,  in  imitation  of  Agamem- 
non, he  intended  to  offer  sacrifice  before  his 
embarkation.  He  had  begun  hostilities  without 
justice,  and  carried  them  on  without  success. 
The  field  of  Leuctra  had  been  alike  fatal  to  the 
strength  and  glory  of  Sparta;  nor  would  that 
ambitious  republic  have  reason  to  boast  of  its 
recent  success  in  Arcadia,  if,  at  that  unfortu- 
nate juncture,  the  Thebans  had  not  been  pre- 
vented, by  reasons  equally  important  and  ho- 
nourable, from  assisting  their  Peloponnesian 
confederates.  Timagoras  the  Athenian,  guided 
by  motives  which  ancient7  history  has  not  con- 


4 Plut.  in  Artaxerx.  5 Xenoph.  Hellen. 

6 Plut.  in  Pelopid. 

7 The  extraordinary  behaviour  of  Timagoras  deserves 
attention.  He  co-operated  with  the  enemy  of  his  coun- 
try, and  the  ambassador  of  a state  actually  at  war  with 
it.  We  may  guess  his  motives  by  his  rewards.  He  re- 
ceived from  the  king  of  Persia,  at  his  departure,  gold  and 
silver,  and  other  valuable  presents,  particulary  a bed  of  cu- 
rious construction,  with  Persian  slaves  to  make  it,  the 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


341 


XXXI.] 

descended  to  explain,  seconded,  with  vigour 
and  address,  the  arguments  of  the  illustrious 
Theban.  In  vain  did  Leon,  the  colleague  of 
Timagoras,  remonstrate  against  his  perfidy. 
The  other  deputies  were  confounded  by  his  im- 
pudence ; and  before  they  had  time  to  express 
their  astonishment  and  indignation,  the  king 
desired  Pelopidas  to  explain  the  object  of  his 
commission,  and  the  demand  of  his  countrymen. 
The  Theban  replied,  that  he  had  been  sent  to 
propose  and  ratify  a treaty  between  his  republic 
and  Persia,  on  conditions  equally  advantageous 
to  both,  since  the  carrying  of  them  into  execu- 
tion would  destroy  the  power  of  those  states 
which  had  hitherto  occasioned  so  much  dis- 
turbance and  danger  to  all  their  neighbours. 
His  proposals  were,  that  the  Athenians  should 
be  commanded  to  lay  up  their  fleet,  and  that 
the  fertile  country  of  Messenia  should  be  de- 
clared totally  independent  of  Sparta.  If  any 
opposition  to  the  treaty  were  made  by  these 
powers,  that  war  should  be  levied  against  them 
by  Persia,  Thebes,  and  their  allies ; and  if  the 
inferior  cities  of  Greece  declined  to  engage  in 
so  just  a cause,  that  their  obstinacy  should  be 
punished  with  an  exemplary  severity.  The 
king  approved  these  articles,  which  were  imme- 
diately consigned  to  writing,  confirmed  by  the 
royal  seal,  and  read  aloud  to  the  ambassadors. 
On  hearing  the  clause  which  related  to  Athens, 
Leon  exclaimed,  with  the  freedom  peculiar  to 
his  country,  “ The  Athenians,  it  seems,  must 
look  out  for  some  other  ally,  instead  of  the  king 
of  Persia.”  After  this  daring  threat,  the  am- 
bassadors took  leave,  and  returned  to  Greece 
with  all -possible  expedition.8 

Pelopidas  was  accompanied  by  a Persian  of 
distinction,  entrusted  with  the  instrument,  con- 
taining the  treaty.  On  his  arrival  in  Thebes, 
the  people  were  immediately  assembled,  and  be- 
ing acquainted  with  the  happy  fruits  of  his  em- 
bassy, they  commended  his  diligence  and  dex- 
terity. Without  losing  a day,  messengers  were 
despatched  to  demand  the  attendance  of  repre- 
sentatives from  the  Grecian  states,  whose  inter- 
ests were  all  alike  concerned  in  the  late  important 
negotiation.  It  does  not  appear  that  either 
Athens  or  Spartacondescended  to  obey  the  sum- 
mons. The  convention,  however,  was  very 
numerous.  ^The  Persian  read  the  treaty,  showed 
the  king’s  seal,  and,  in  the  name  of  his  master, 
required  the  agreement  to  be  ratified  with  the 
formality  of  oaths  usually  employed  on  such  oc- 

Greeks  beinsj  little  acquainted  with  that  operation,  and  he 
was  carried  in  a sedan  to  the  sea  shore  at  the  king’s  ex- 
pense. Yet  this  man  had  the  effrontery  to  return  to  Athens, 
and  to  appear  in  the  public  assembly.  He  knew  the  force 
of  eloquence  and  intrigue  ever  the  capricious  minds  of  his 
countrymen ; he  knew  that  the  practice  of  receiving  bribes 
was  so  usual,  that  the  Athenians  had  lost  the  proper  sense 
of  its  baseness.  He  perhaps  remembered  the  pleasant  pro- 
posal of  Epicrates,  that  instead  of  nine  Archons,  the  Athe- 
nians should  annually  elect  nine  ambassadors,  chosen  from 
the  poorest  citizens,  who  might  return  rich  from  Persia. 
Eprcratcs  had  acquired  a very  undue  proportion  of  wealth 
toy  this  infamous  means,  as  we  learn  from  an  oration  of 
Lysias.  Yet  the  Athenians  were  less  indignant  at  his  guilt, 
than  delighted  with  his  humour.  Timagoras,  however,  was 
>not  so  fortunate ; he  was  accused  by  his  colleague  Leon, 
and  condemned  to  death,  not,  if  we  irvy  credit  Plutarch, 
■because  he  had  betrayed  his  trust,  and  accepted  bribes,  but 
"because  the  Athenians  were  extremely  displeased  that  Pe- 
Jopidas  had  effected  the  object  of  his  commission  at  the 
Persian  court.  Plut.  in  Pelopid. 

£ Xenoph.  p 621,etseq. 


casions.  The  representatives  almost  unani- 
mously declared  that  they  had  been  sent  to  hear, 
not  to  swear  ; and  that  before  the  treaty  could 
be  ratified  by  general  consent,  its  conditions 
must  be  previously  discussed,  in  the  particular 
assembly  of  each  independent  republic.  Such 
was  the  firm,  but  moderate  answer  of  the  other 
deputies;  but  the  high-spirited  Lycomedes  went 
farther  than  his  colleagues.  His  friend  and 
countryman,  Antiochus,  who  had  lately  acted 
as  the  ambassador  of  Arcadia  at  the  Persian 
court,  returned  disgusted  by  the  contempt  shown 
towards  his  country  by  the  great  king,  who 
hesitated  not  to  prefer  Elis  to  Arcadia.  In 
giving  an  account  of  his  embassy  to  the  Ten 
Thousand  (the  name  usually  bestowed  on  the 
Arcadians  since  the  re-union  of  their  tribes  in 
Mantinaea  and  Megalopolis,)  he  indulged  him- 
self in  many  contumelious  expressions  against 
Artaxerxes  and  his  subjects,  which  were 
greedily  listened  to  by  the  resentment  and  envy 
of  his  hearers.  “ Neither  the  wealth  nor  the 
power  of  the  great  king  were  so  great  in  reality 
as  flattery  and  falsehood  represented  them. 
The  golden  plane-tree,  which  had  often  been  so 
ostentatiously  described,  could  scarce  afford 
shade  to  a grasshopper.  He  himself  had  been 
an  attentive  observer ; yet  all  he  could  find  in 
Persia  was  the  idle  retinue  of  vice  and  luxury, 
bakers,  butlers,  and  cooks,  a useless  and  servile 
train  ; but  men  fit  to  contend  with  the  Greeks, 
he  neither  himself  saw,  nor  thought  it  possible 
for  others  to  discover.”  The  proud  disdain  of 
Antiochus  had  been  communicated  entire  to  the 
breast  of  Lycomedes.  He  declared,  that  Ar- 
cadia needed  not  any  alliance  with  the  great 
king ; and  that  were  such  a matter  in  agitation, 
Thebes  would  not  be  the  proper  place  to  de- 
termine it,  since  every  convention  tending  to  a 
general  peace  ought  to  be  held  in  that  country 
which  had  been  the  principal  scene  of  war. 

The  Theban  magistrates  discovered  the  min- 
gled symptoms  of  disappointment,  indignation, 
grief,  and  rage.  They  accused  Lycomedes  as 
a traitor  to  Thebes,  and  an  enemy  to  his  coun- 
try ; but  he  despised  their  empty  clamours,  and, 
without  deigning  an  answer,  walked  from  the 
assembly,  and  was  followed  by  all  the  deputies 
of  Arcadia.  Notwithstanding  this  severe  mor- 
tification, the  Thebans  did  not  abandon  the  am- 
bitious project  at  which  they  had  long  aimed. 
Nothing' favourable,  they  perceived,  could  be 
expected  in  the  general  congress  of  the  states, 
so  that  they  allowed  the  assembly  to  break  up 
without  insisting  farther  on  their  demands. 
But  at  the  distance  of  a short  time,  they  re- 
newed the  same  proposal  to  the  several  repub- 
lics, beginning  with  Corinth,  one  of  the  weakest, 
yet  most  wealthy,  in  hopes  that  whatever  op- 
position the  overtures  of  the  king  of  Persia, 
and  their  own,  had  found  in  the  united  strength 
and  confidence  of  the  assembled  confederacy, 
few  single  states  at  least  would  venture  to  pro- 
voke the  indignation  of  such  powerful  adver- 
saries. But  in  this,  too,  they  were  disappointed. 
The  Corinthians  declined  entering  into  any 
alliance  with  the  king  of  Persia,  and  set  his 
power  at  defiance.  The  magnanimous  exam- 
ple was  imitated  by  their  neighbours ; the 
secret  practices  of  the  Thebans  were  equally 


342 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap, 


fruitless  with  their  open  declarations  and  de- 
mands. 

nl  Epaminondas  encouraged  his  coun- 

trymen  to  acquire,  by  arms,  that 
AC*?  fifi  Pre'eminence  whicJl  they  had  vainly 
A.  U.  Jbb.  expecte(j  t0  obtain  by  negotiation. 
His  renown,  justly  increased  by  the  recent 
transactions  in  Thessaly,  rendered  his  influence 
irresistible.  He  was  again  entrusted  with  the 
command  of  a powerful  army,  with  which,  for 
the  third  time,  he  invaded  the  Peloponnesus. 
The  Elians  and  Arcadians,  though  hostile  to 
each  other,  were  alike  disposed  for  rebellion 
against  Thebes ; but  instead  of  marching  into 
their  territories,  a measure  which  might  have 
engaged  them  to  settle  their  private  differences, 
and  to  unite  against  the  common  enemy,  Epa- 
minondas endeavoured  to  quash  their  disaffec- 
tion by  the  rapid  conquest  of  Achaia,  which, 
stretching  along  the  Corinthian  gulf,  skirted  the 
northern  frontiers  of  Elis  and  Arcadia.  From 
the  nature  of  their  government  the  Achaeans 
usually  enjoyed  more  tranquillity  than  their 
neighbours.  They  possessed  not  any  great 
town,  whose  needy  and  turbulent  inhabitants, 
seduced  by  popular  demagogues,  could  rouse 
the  whole  province  to  arms  and  ambition.  To- 
wards the  east  and  the  isthmus  of  Corinth,  the 
cities  of  Sicyon  and  Phlius  had  long  been  re- 
garded as  separate  republics,  unconnected  with 
the  general  body  of  the  Achaean  nation.  iEgium 
enjoyed  the  prerogative  of  constituting  the 
usual  place  of  convention  for  the  states  of 
Achaia ; but  Dyme,  Tirtaea,  and  Pellene, 
scarcely  yielded  to  iEgium  in  populousness  and 
power,  and  seem,  with  several  places  of  infe- 
rior note,  to  have  formed  so  many  separate  and 
independent  communities,  all  alike  subject  to 
the  same  equitable  system  of  Achaean  laws. 
Immediately  before  the  Theban  invasion  the 
aristocracy  had  acquired  an  undue  weight  in 
the  constitution  of  Achaia,  so  that  the  princi- 
pal nobles  and  magistrates  were  no  sooner  in- 
formed of  the  approach  of  an  enemy,  than  they 
flocked  from  all  quarters  of  the  province  to 
meet  Epaminondas,  soliciting  his  favour  and 
friendship,  and  little  anxious  about  the  inde- 
pendence of  their  country,  provided  they  might 
preserve  their  personal  privileges  and  private 
fortunes.  The  people  perceiving  themselves 
betrayed  by  those  who  ought  to  have  been 
their  protectors,  abandoned  all  thoughts  of  re- 
sistance. Epaminondas  accepted  the  submis- 
sion of  the  magistrates,  and  received  pledges 
of  their  engagement,  that  Achaia  should  thence- 
forth adhere  to  the  interest  of  Thebes,  and  fol- 
low the  standard  of  that  republic.1 

This  conquest,  which  was  effected  without 
striking  a blow,  and  without  producing  any  in- 
ternal revolution  of  government,  was  destruc- 
tive and  bloody  in  its  consequences.  Epami- 
nondas,  for  reasons  not  sufficiently  explained, 
returned  with  his  army  to  Thebes ; but  before 
he  arrived  there,  various  complaints  against  his 
conduct  had  been  made  in  the  Theban  assem- 
bly. The  Arcadians  and  Argives  complained, 
that  a people,  who  knew  by  their  own  recent 
experience  the  inconveniences  of  aristocracy, 


should  have  confirmed  that  severe  form  of  go- 
vernment in  a dependent  province.  The  de- 
mocratic faction  in  Achaia  secretly  sent  emis- 
saries to  second  the  complaint.  The  enemies 
of  Epaminondas  seized  the  favourable  oppor- 
tunity of  accusing  and  calumniating  that  illus- 
trious commander,  and  the  capricious  multitude 
were  persuaded  to  condemn  his  proceedings, 
and  to  send  commissioners  into  Achaia,  who, 
with  the  assistance  of  the  populace,  as  well  as 
of  a considerable  body  of  mercenaries,  dissolved 
the  aristocracy,  banished  or  put  to  death  the 
nobles,  and  instituted  a democratic  form  of 
policy.  The  foreign  troops  had  scarcely  left 
that  country,  when  the  exiles,  who  were  ex- 
tremely numerous  and  powerful,  returned  with 
common  consent,  and,  after  a bloody  and  des- 
perate struggle,  recovered  their  ancient  influ- 
ence in  their  respective  cities.  The  leaders  of 
the  populace  were  now,  in  their  turn,  put  to 
death  or  expelled ; the  aristocracy  was  re-es- 
tablished ; and  the  magistrates,  knowing  that 
it  was  dangerous  to  depend  on  the  unsteady 
politics  of  Thebes,  craved  the  protection  of 
Sparta,  which  was  readily  granted  them.  The 
Achaeans  approved  their  gratitude  by  ravaging 
the  northern,  while  the  Lacedaemonians  infest- 
ed the  southern  frontier  of  Arcadia ; and  that 
unhappy  province  felt  and  regretted  the  incon- 
venience of  its  situation  between  two  impla- 
cable enemies.2 

q,  Sicyon,  though  governed  by  the 

ci^  Achaean  laws,  did  not  follow,  on 

A C *°66  *kls  occasion,  the  example  of  its 
neighbours.  That  unfortunate  city, 
which  had  long  been  the  seat  of  luxury  and 
the  arts,  was  reserved  for  peculiar  calamities. 
Euphron,  a bold,  crafty,  and  ambitious  dema- 
gogue, having  already  acquired  great  credit 
with  the  Lacedaemonians,  was  desirous  of  ob- 
taining equal  consideration  among  the  enemies 
of  that  people,  hoping,  by  so  many  foreign  con- 
j nections,  to  render  himself  absolute  master  of 
his  little  republic.  For  this  purpose  he  secretly 
reminded  the  Arcadians  and  Argives,  that 
“ Sicyon,  having  the  same  laws  and  govern-  , 
ment,  would  naturally  embrace  the  same  alli- 
ance with  the  neighbouring  cities ; but  the  dan- 
ger of  this  event  he  would  undertake  to  re- 
move, with  very  slender  assistance  from  Argos 
and  Arcadia.”  The  admonition  was  not  lost ; 
a body  of  armed  men  arrived  at  Sicyon  ; Eu- 
phron assembled  the  people ; the  government 
was  changed ; new  magistrates  were  appointed, 
and  Euphron  was  entrusted  with  the  command 
of  the  national  force,  consisting  chiefly  of  mer- 
cenaries. Having  obtained  this,  he  obtained 
all.  By  caresses,  bribes,  and  flattery,  the  troops 
were  gained  over  to  his  party,  and  became  at- 
tached to  his  person.  His  colleagues  in  the 
government  were  removed  by  secret  treachery 
or  open  violence.  His  private  enemies  were 
held  the  enemies  of  the  state,  accused,  con- 
demned, and  banished;  and  their  confiscated 
estates  augmented  the  wealth  of  Euphron, 
whose  rapacity  knew  no  bounds,  sparing  nei- 
ther the  property  of  individuals  nor  the  public 
treasury,  nor  the  consecrated  gold  and  silver 


Xenoph.  p.  622. 


2 Xenoph.  p.  623. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


343 


XXXL] 

which  adorned  the  temples  of  Sicyon.  The 
sums  amassed  by  such  impious  means  enabled 
him  to  confirm  fiis  usurpation.  He  augmented 
the  number  of  his  mercenary  guards,  who, 
while  they  oppressed  the  republic,  were  useful 
auxiliaries  to  the  Argives  and  Arcadians.  What- 
ever these  nations  thought  proper  to  command, 
the  soldiers  of  Euphron  were  ready  to  obey  ; 
and  partly  by  this  alacrity  in  their  service, 
partly  by  bribing3  the  principal  men  in  Argos 
and  Arcadia,  the  crafty  tyrant  expected  to  pre- 
vent those  neighbouring  communities  from  in- 
terfering in  the  domestic  affairs  of  Sicyon. 

Such  was  the  venality  and  corruption  of  the 
Greeks,  that  this  detestable  policy  was  attended 
with  success,  until  iEneas,  the  Stymphalian, 
obtained  the  command  of  the  Arcadians.  This 
man,  availing  himself  of  the  vicinity  of  Sicyon 
to  Stymphalus,  the  place  of  his  birth  and  resi- 
dence, had  formed  a connection  with  the  op- 
pressed citizens  of  the  former.  iEneas,  per- 
haps, had  not  sufficiently  shared  the  largesses 
of  Euphron ; perhaps  the  humanity  of  his  na- 
ture4 lamented  the  sufferings  of  the  Sicyonians. 
Whatever  was  his  motive,  it  is  certain  that  he 
endeavoured  to  expel  their  tyrant,  and  to  re- 
store their  liberty. 

Euphron,  however,  had  the  dexterity  to  en- 
gage successively  in  his  favour  the  Lacedae- 
monians, Athenians,  and  Thebans.  He  spared 
neither  pains,  nor  promises,  nor  bribes.  He 
was  commonly  his  own  ambassador ; and  his 
activity  and  abilities  must  have  risen  far  above 
the  ordinary  pitch,  to  engage  the  principal 
states  of  Greece,  one  after  another,  to  support, 
in  direct  opposition  to  their  principles,  the  ty- 
ranny of  a single  man.  Insurrections  at  home, 
and  hostilities  from  abroad,  at  length  occasion- 
ed his  downfall.  He  escaped  to  Thebes  with 
the  greatest  part  of  his  treasure.  His  enemies 
sent  proper  persons  to  counteract  his  intrigues 
there.  The  money,  however,  and  the  address 
of  Euphron,  prevailed  with  the  Theban  ma- 
gistrates, and  he  expected  to  be  restored  in  tri- 
umph by  the  Thebans,  as  he  had  already  been 
by  the  Athenians.  But  the  Sicyonians,  who 
followed  him  to  Thebes,  perceiving  his  famili- 
arity5 with  the  principal  men  of  that  city,  had 
recourse  to  the  only  expedient  that  seemed  ca- 
pable of  frustrating  his  designs,  and  assassinat- 
ed Euphron  in  the  Cadmaea,  while  the  The- 
ban archons  and  senators  were  assembled  within 
the  walls  of  that  edifice.6 

The  murderers  were  seized,  and  the  atrocity, 
as  well  as  the  indignity  of  their  crime,  was 
strongly  represented  to  the  senate  by  one  of 
the  archons,  who  probably  regretted  the  death 
of  Euphron,  as  the  loss  of  a wealthy  client. 
The  criminals  denied  the  fact,  till  one,  bolder 
than  the  rest,  not  only  avowed  but  justified  the 
assassination  as  equally  lawful,  advantageous, 
and  honourable.  And  so  little  horror  do  men 
feel  at  crimes  which  prevail  in  their  own  age, 


3 Tx  /uiv  toi  xxi  x^/xxri  S<6Wf*rrero.  Xenoph.  p.  624. 

4 Xenophon  seems  to  approve  this  renson.  He  says 
ASneas,  the  Stymphalian,  volume;  oux  uvcxtw;  tx  iv 
Zixvuivi.  “ Thinking  the  grievances  of  the  Sicyonians  in- 
ferable.” 

5 lif  Si  iu>(u>v  xv-rov  oixiiids  roig  a^ouri  ituvovtx. 
Xenoph.  p.  630. 

6 Xenoph.  1.  vii  p.  630. 


| and  with  which  their  fancies  are  familiar,  that 
the  assassins  wTere  unanimously  acquitted  by 
the  Theban  senate,  whose  award  was  approved 
by  the  assembly.7 

q.  Mean  while  the  war  languished 

c-.^  2^’  on  both  sides,  and  the  hostile  con- 

A C federacies  were  on  the  point  of  be- 

ing dissolved.  The  Athenians  and 
Arcadians,  equally  disgusted  with  their  respec- 
tive allies,  concluded  a treaty  of  peace  and  mu- 
tual defence,  by  the  intervention  of  Lycomedes 
the  Mantineean,  who  was  slain  in  his  return 
from  Athens  by  a party  of  Arcadian  exiles. 
This  negotiation  gave  general  alarm  ; the  Ar- 
cadians, who  had  entered  into  treaty  with 
Athens,  were  the  allies  of  Thebes  ; and  the 
united  strength  of  these  three  republics  was  at 
that  time  sufficient  to  subdue  and  enslave  the 
rest  of  Greece.  The  terror  was  increased 
when  it  appeared  that  the  Athenians  had  little 
inclination  tp  evacuate  several  places  in  the 
Corinthian  territory  which  they  had  under- 
taken to  defend  against  the  Arcadanians  and 
Thebans.  By  seasonable  vigilance  the  Corin- 
thians anticipated  a design,  too  unjust  to  be 
publicly  avowed  ; they  cautiously  dissembled 
their  fears ; graciously  thanked  Chares,  who 
had  arrived  with  an  Athenian  fleet  on  pretence 
of  offering  them  his  service,  but  took  care  not 
to  admit  him  within  their  harbours ; and  by 
extreme  kindness  and  condescension,  accom- 
panied with  warm  professions  of  gratitude  for 
the  protection  hitherto  afforded  them,  they  got 
rid  of  the  foreign  garrisons,  without  coming  to 
an  open  rupture  with  the  Athenians.  But  the 
narrow  escape  which  they  had  made,  and  the 
dread  of  being  exposed  in  future  to  any  similar 
danger,  made  them  extremely  solicitous  to  pro- 
mote a general  peace  on  the  terms  proposed  by 
Artaxerxes  and  the  Thebans.  Motives  of  the 
same  kind  influenced  the  cities  of  Achaia,  and 
the  little  republic  of  Phlius,  which,  together 
with  Corinth,  were  the  only  allies  that  remain- 
ed faithful  to  Sparta.  A similarity  of  interests 
occasioned  a close  communication  of  views  and 
measures  among  all  those  communities  ; who 
agreed,  by  common  consent,  to  despatch  an 
embassy  to  Sparta,  requesting  that  she  would 
accept  the  conditions  of  peace  lately  offered  by 
Thebes,  or  if  she  thought  it  inconsistent 
with  honour  to  cede  her  just  pretensions  to 
Messend,  that  she  would  allow  her  faithful  but 
helpless  allies  to  enter  into  a separate  negotia- 
tion with  the  Theban  republic. 

The  reasonableness,  and  even  modesty,  of 
this  request  must  have  been  apparent  to  the 
Spartans,  when  they  reflected  on  the  useful 
services  of  the  allies,  and  considered  how  much 
they  had  already  suffered  in  their  cause.  The 
Phliasians,  in  particular,  had,  during  five  years, 
given  such  illustrious  proofs  of  their  unshaken 
adherence  to  Sparta,  as  stand  unrivalled  in  the 
history  of  national  honour  and  fidelity.  Situ- 
ated in  the  midst  of  enemies,  they  had  continu- 
ally, since  the  battle  of  Leuctra,  suffered  the 
invasions  and  assaults  of  the  Thebans,  Area 
dians,  and  Argives.  Their  territory  was  totally 
wasted ; their  city  closely  besieged  ; their  cita 


7 Xenoph.  ibid.  p.  631,  et  scq. 


344 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


del,  more  than  once,  surprised  and  taken  ; their 
wealth,  public  and  private,  was  exhausted,  and 
they  subsisted  precariously  on  provisions 
brought  from  Corinth,  for  the  payment  of 
which  they  pledged  their  beasts  of  burden  and 
instruments  of  agriculture.  Yet  under  the 
pressure  of  these  multiplied  calamities,  they 
had  preserved  their  fidelity  inviolate ; they  had 
disdained  to*  accept  the  peace  which  the  The- 
bans offered  them  on  condition  of  their  forsak- 
ing Sparta ; even,  at  last,  they  were  determin- 
ed to  negotiate  with  Thebes  for  neutrality 
alone;  nor  had  they  humbly  solicited  permis- 
cion  to  embrace  this  measure,  until  Corinth, 
the  only  source  of  their  subsistence,  seemed 
ready  to  forsake  them.1 

The  strength  of  such  arguments  urged  by  the 
eloquence  of  Patrocles  the  Phliasian,  might 
have  softened,  if  any  thing  could  have  softened, 
the  inflexible  temper  of  the  Spartan  senate, 
and  disposed  that  assembly  to  prefer  the  interest 
of  their  allies,  and  their  own  immediate  safety, 
to  the  insisting  on  a fruitless  claim  to  Messene, 
which,  unaided  and  alone,  they  could  never 
expect  to  maintain.  But  the  pretensions  of  this 
extraordinary  people  seem  to  have  become  more 
lofty,  in  proportion  to  their  inability  to  support 
them;  and,  on  that  particular  occasion,  the 
proud  obstinacy,  natural  to  the  Spartans,  was 
increased  by  an  animated  speech  of  Archida- 
mus,  full  of  the  most  confident  hopes,  and 
glowing  with  all  the  warmth  of  his  age  and 
character. 

He  spoke  with  contempt  concerning  the  de- 
fection of  the  confederates.  “ The  Phliasians, 
the  inhabitants  of  Corinth  and  Achaia,  may, 
without  exciting  surprise,  express  an  anxiety 
for  peace;  safety,  not  glory,  is  their  aim.  But 
the  Spartans  have  a character  to  sustain,  which 
it  would  be  infamous  to  relinquish.  They 
expect  not  barely  to  exist,  but  to  enjoy  fame 
and  honour,  the  true  sweeteners  of  existence ; 
and,  if  that  be  impossible,  they  must  perish ! 
Yet  is  not  their  situation  desperate  : a nation 
cannot  be  reduced  to  any  condition  of  distress, 
in  which  a warlike  genius,  and  a well-regulated 
government,  may  not  afford  relief.  But  in 
military  experience  and  abilities,  we  are  still 
unrivalled ; and  such  a system  of  policy  as  w'e 
enjoy,  no  other  people  can  boast.  We  enjoy, 
besides,  temperate  and  laborious  habits,  the 
contempt  of  pleasure  and  wealth,  an  ardour  for 
martial  glory,  and  an  ambition  of  honest  fame. 
These  are  powerful  auxiliaries,  when  protected 
by  the  immortal  gods,  whose  oracles  anciently 
approved  our  just  conquest  of  Messene.  Nor, 
though  the  Corinthians  and  Achaeans  forsake 
us,  shall  we  be  destitute  of  warlike  allies.  The 
Athenians  ever  jealous  of  Thebes,  their  most 
formidable  neighbour,  will  again  take  arms  in 
our  cause.  Dionysius,  the  tyrant  of  Sicily, 
gives  us  hope  of  farther  assistance ; the  king  of 
Egypt,  and  many  princes  of  Asia,  declared 
enemies  of  Artaxerxes,  are  all  naturally  our 
friends.  We  possess,  besides,  though  not  the 
persons  and  actual  service,  the  hearts  and  affec- 
tions at  least,  of  whatever  is  most  eminent  in 
Greece.  In  all  the  republics,  whoever  is  dis- 


[Chap. 

tinguished  by  his  fame,  liis  wealth,  or  his 
virtues,  though  he  may  not  accompany  our 
standard,  secretly  wishes  success  to  our  arms. 
I am  of  opinion,  too,  that  the  crowd2  of  Pelo- 
ponnesus, that  mob  on  which  we  at  first  too 
vainly  relied,  will  at  length  return  to  their 
duty.  They  have  obtained  none  of  these  ad 
vantages,  the  vain  prospect  of  wrhich  urged 
them  to  revolt.  Instead  of  acquiring  the  inde- 
pendent government  of  their  own  laws,  they 
have  fallen  a prey  to  lawless  anarchy,  or  been 
subjected  to  the  inhuman  cruelty  of  tyrants. 
The  bloody  seditions,  of  which  they  once  knew 
the  nature  by  report  only,  they  have  long  ex- 
perienced ; and  there  are  actually  more  exiles 
from  particular  cities,  than  were  formerly  from 
all  Peloponnesus.  But  even  banishment  is  hap- 
piness to  those  who,  while  they  remained  at 
home,  butchered  each  other  at  the  altars;  and 
who,  instead  of  that  peaceful  abundance  which 
they  enjoyed  under  the  Spartan  government, 
perished  for  want  of  bread.  Such  is  the  con- 
dition of  the  Peloponnesians,  whose  lands  have 
been  laid  waste,  their  cities  desolated,  and  that 
constitution  and  those  laws,  under  which  they 
once  lived  the  happiest  of  men,  overturned  from 
the  foundation.  We  might  subdue  them  by 
force;  but  that  is  not  necessary;  they  will  vo- 
luntarily return  to  their  allegiance,  and  solicit 
our  protection,  as  alone  capable  to  alleviate  their 
misery,  and  prevent  their  total  ruin. 

“ But  had  we  nothing  of  this  kind  to  expect, 
and  were  the  one  half  of  Greece  not  more  dis- 
posed to  injure  us,  than  the  other  to  abet  their 
injustice,  I have  still  one  resolution  to  propose, 
harsh  indeed  and  severe,  but  becoming  those 
sentiments  which  have  ever  animated  the  Spar- 
tans. Prosperity,  that  conceals  the  infamy  of 
cowardice,  robs  fortitude  of  half  its  glory.  It  is 
adversity  alone  that  can  display  the  full  lustre 
of  a firm  and  manly  character.  I propose, 
therefore,  that  rather  than  cede  a territory, 
which  your  ancestors  acquired  by  the  blood 
and  labour  of  twenty  victorious  campaigns,  you 
should  remove  from  Sparta  your  wives,  chil- 
dren, and  parents,  who  will  be  received  with 
kindness  in  Italy,  Sicily,  Cyrene,  and  many 
parts  of  Asia.  Those  who  are  fit  to  bear  arms 
must  also  leave  the  city,  and  carry  nothing  from 
thence  that  may  not  easily  be  transported. 
They  must,  then,  fix  on  some  post  well  fortified 
by  nature,  and  which  art  may  render  secure 
against  every  hostile  assault.  This,  thenceforth, 
must  be  their  city  and  country;  and  from  this, 
as  a centre,  they  must  on  all  sides  infest  the 
enemy,  until  either  the  Thebans  remit  their 
arrogance,  or  the  last  of  the  Spartans  perish.”3 

The  speech  of  Archidamus  expressed  the 
general  sense  of  his  country.  The  allies  were 
dismissed  with  permission  to  act  as  best  suited 
their  convenience,  but  with  assurance  that 
Sparta  would  never  listen  to  any  terms  of  ac- 
commodation while  deprived  of  Messene.  With 
this  answer  the  ambassadors  returned  to  their 
respective  cities.  Soon  afterwards  they  were 
despatched  to  Thebes,  where,  having  proposed 
their  demands,  they  were  offered  admission  into 

2 Ox^of.  Tsocrat.  in  Arcid.  He  means  the  Arcadians, 
Elians,  &c.  formerly  allies  of  Sparta. 

3 Ieocrat.  in  Arcbidam.  * 


1 Xenoph.  624.  et  634. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


345 


XXXI.] 

„he  Theban  confederacy.  They  answered,  that 
this  was  not  peace,  but  only  a change  of  the 
war ; and  at  length,  after  various  propositions 
and  reasonings,  they  obtained  the  much-desired 
neutrality.* * * 4 

The  Spartans,  thus  deserted  on 
c-^  j ' ’ every  side,  would  probably  have 

A C *364  ^een  v*ct*ms  °*'  ^e4r  pride  and 
obstinacy,  if  circumstances,  unfore- 
seen by  Archidamus,  had  not  prevented  the 
Thebans  and  Arcadians  from  carrying  on  the 
war  with  their  usual  animosity.  Projects  of 
glory  and  ambition  had  disarmed  the  resent- 
ment of  Epaminondas.  That  active  and  en- 
terprising leader,  who  thought  that  nothing  was 
done,  while  any  thing  was  neglected,  had  set 
himself  to  render  Thebes  mistress  of  the  sea. 
The  attention  and  labour  of  the  republic  was 
directed  to  this  important  object;  preparations 
were  made  at  Aulis  with  silence  and  celerity ; 
and  when  the  design  seemed  ripe  for  execution, 
Epaminondas  sailed  to  Rhodes,  Chios,  and 
Byzantium,  to  concert  measures  with  those 
maritime  states,  which  had  already  begun  to 
feel  the  severe  yoke  of  the  Athenians,  and  be- 
come eager  to  shake  it  off.  But  the  vigilance 
of  the  latter,  who  had  sent  out  a strong  fleet 
under  Laches,  a commander  of  reputation  and 
ability,  prevented  the  dangerous  consequences 
of  this  defection ; and  the  Theban  arms  were, 
at  the  same  time,  summoned  to  a service  which 
more  immediately  concerned  their  interest  and 
honour. 

Ql  Alexander,  the  tyrant  of  Pherse, 

c- ^ began  once  more  to  display  the  re- 

A C *°64  sources  his  fertile  genius,  and  the 
* ° * inhuman  cruelty  of  his  temper.  His 

numerous  mercenaries,  whom  he  collected  and 
kept  together  with  singular  address,  and  the 
secret  assistance  of  Athens,  enabled  him  to 
overrun  the  whole  territory,  and  to  gain  posses- 
sion of  all  the  principal  cities,  of  Thessaly.5 
The  oppressed  Thessalians  had  recourse  to 
Thebes,  whose  powerful  protection  they  had  so 
happily  experienced  on  former  occasions,  and 
whose  standard  they  had  uniformly  followed, 
with  an  alacrity  which  afforded  a sufficient 
pledge  of  their  gratitude.  The  Thebans  de- 
creed to  assist  them  with  ten  thousand  men, 
and  the  command  was  entrusted  to  Pelopidas, 
the  personal  enemy  of  Alexander.  But  the  day 
appointed  for  the  march  was  darkened  by  an 
eclipse  of  the  sun,  which  greatly  diminished  the 
army,  as  Pelopidas  was  unwilling  to  exact  the 
reluctant  services  of  men  dispirited  by  the  ima- 
ginary terrors  of  superstition.  Such  only  as, 
despising  vain  omens,  desired  to  follow  their 
beloved  general,  were  conducted  into  Thessaly; 
and  being  joined  by  their  allies  in  that  country 
near  the  town  of  Pharsalus,  they  encamped  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountains  of  Cynoscephalse. 

The  tyrant  approached  with  an  army  twenty 
thousand  strong,  boldly  offering  them  battle. 
Nor  did  Pelopidas  decline  the  engagement, 
though  his  foot  were,  in  number,  inferior  to  the 
enemy.  The  action  began  with  the  cavalry, 
and  was  favourable  to  the  Thebans;  but  the 
mercenaries  of  Alexander  having  gained  the 


4 Xenoph.  ubi  supra-  5 Plutarch,  in  Pelopid.  • 


advantage  of  the  ground,  pressed  with  vigour 
the  Theban  and  Thessalian  infantry.  In  this 
emergency,  Pelopidas  rode  up,  and  encouraging 
the  retiring  troops  with  his  voice  and  action, 
gave  them  such  fresh  spirits,  that  Alexander  did 
not  doubt  their  having  received  a considerable 
reinforcement.  The  mercenaries  were  pressed 
in  their  turn,  and  thrown  into  disorder.  Pelo- 
pidas darting  his  eye  through  their  broken  ranks, 
espied  Alexander  in  the  right  wing  rallying  his 
men,  and  preparing  to  advance  with  his  usual 
intrepidity.  At  this  sight  the  Theban  was  no 
longer  master  of  his  passion.  Naturally  a foe 
to  tyrants,  he  beheld  a personal  foe  in  the  tyrant 
Alexander.  Accompanied  by  a few  horsemen, 
he  impetuously  rushed  forward,  calling  aloud 
to  his  adversary,  and  challenging  him  to  single 
combat.  Alexander,  fearing  to  meet  the  man 
whom  he  had  injured,  retired  behind  his  guards, 
who  received,  first  with  a shower  of  javelins, 
and  then  with  their  shears,  the  little  band  of 
Pelopidas ; who,  after  producing  such  carnage6 
as  Homer  ascribes  to  the  rage  of  Diomed  or 
Achilles,  fell  a victim  to  the  blindness  of  his 
own  ungovernable  fury.  Mean  while,  his  troops 
advancing  to  the  relief  of  their  general,  the 
guards  of  the  tyrant  were  repelled ; the  The- 
bans, with  their  allies,  proved  victorious  in 
every  part  of  the  battle ; the  enemy  were  dis- 
persed in  flight,  and  pursued  with  the  loss  of 
three  thousand  men. 

But  the  death  of  Pelopidas  threw  a gloom 
over  the  victory.  He  was  lamented  by  the 
Thebans  and  Thessalians  with  immoderate  de- 
monstrations of  sorrow.  Accompanied  by  an 
innumerable  crowd  of  real  mourners,  his  body 
was  carried  in  procession  to  Thebes.  The 
Thessalians,  in  whose  service  he  had  fallen,  re- 
quested the  honour  of  supplying  the  expenses 
of  his  funeral,  which  was  celebrated  with  every 
circumstance  of  sad  magnificence.  The  multi- 
tude recollected  the  eclipse  which  preceded  his 
departure,  and  which,  as  they  believed,  an- 
nounced his  misfortune ; and,  in  allusion  to  that 
fatal  omen,  exclaimed,  “ that  the  sun  of  Thebes 
was  set,  and  her  glory  departed  for  ever.”  The 
Thebans  appointed  Malcitas  and  Diogeiton  to 
the  command  in  Thessaly.  The  tyrant  was 
again  defeated,  and  stripped  of  all  his  conquests. 
But  what  appears  extraordinary,  he  was  allow- 
ed to  live  and  reign  in  Pherse,7  while  the  neigh- 
bouring cities  entered  into  a close  alliance  with 
Thebes. 

The  foreign  expeditions  which  have  been  de- 
scribed, were  not  the  only  causes  that  diverted 
the  attention  of  the  Thebans  from  the  affairs  of 
Peloponnesus.  While  Epaminondas  was  em- 
ployed abroad  in  the  fleet,  and  Pelopidas  in 
Thessaly,  the  government  of  Thebes  was  on  the 
point  of  being  overturned  by  an  aristocratical 
faction.  The  inhabitants  of  Orchomenus,  the 
second  city  in  Bceotia,  and  anciently  the  rival 
of  Thebes,8  entered  into  this  conspiracy,  which 
was  to  be  executed  at  the  annual  review  of  the 


G Diodorus  says,  that  the  bodies  of  those  whom  he  slew 

covered  a long  tract  of  ground.  Plutarch  is  equally  hyper- 

bolical. The  battles  of  Homer  rendered  the  marvellous  in 

military  description  too  familiar  to  the  Greek  historians,  I 

mean  Diodorus,  Plutarch,  Pausanias ; Thucydides  and 

Xenophon  knew  their  duty  better. 

7 Diodorus,  I.  xv.  c.  20.  8 Pausanias  Bceotic 


2 X 


346 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Orchomenian  troops.  But  the  plot  was  dis- 
covered by  the  fears  or  the  repentance  of  some 
accomplices,  who  became  informers.  The  ca- 
valry of  Orchomenus,  to  the  number  of  three 
hundred,  were  surrounded  and  cut  to  pieces  in 
the  Theban  market-place.  Nor  did  this  ven- 
geance satisfy  the  enraged  multitude,  who 
marched  in  a body  to  Orchomenus,  besieged 
and  took  the  city,  razed  it  to  the  ground,  put 
the  men  of  full  age  to  the  sword,  and  dragged 
their  wives  and  children  into  captivity.1 

While  operations,  destructive  or 
Olymp.  fruitless,  employed  the  activity  of 
®1V*  **  Thebes,  her  allies  in  Arcadia  were 
A.  oo4.  OCCUpie(j  with  designs  still  more 
blameable.  Their  own  strength  and  numbers, 
together  with  a confidence  in  Athens,  their  new 
confederate,  encouraged  the  Arcadians  to  give 
full  scope  to  their  ambition,  by  which  they  had 
been  long  animated.  To  pave  the  way  for  the 
total  conquest  of  the  Peloponnesus,  in  which 
they  had  already  obtained  a dangerous  ascend- 
ant, they  began  by  wresting  several  places  from 
the  Elians,  the  least  warlike,  and  most  wealthy, 
of  their  neighbours.  The  Elians,  worsted  in 
every  encounter  with  the  enemy,  craved  the 
assistance  of  Sparta,  which  being  reinforced  by 
the  Achseans  (notwithstanding  the  neutrality 
so  recently  stipulated,)  made  several  vigorous, 
but  unsuccessful  efforts,  for  the  defence  of  the 
Elian  territory.  The  Arcadians  still  pushed 
their  conquests  in  that  country,  gaining  one 
town  after  another,  and  at  length  Olympia  it- 
self, the  most  precious  jewel  of  the  Elians,  and 
the  greatest  ornament  of  the  Peloponnesus. 
As  possessors  of  the  sacred  city,  and  by  virtue 
of  a pretended  right  derived  from  the  inha- 
bitants of  Pisa,  an  ancient  but  decayed  place  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Olympia,  the  Arcadians 
prepared  to  celebrate  the  hundred  and  fourth 
Olympiad,  the  time  of  which  was  at  hand.  At 
the  approach  of  this  august  solemnity,  the  con- 
course, as  usual,  was  great  from  every  part  of 
Greece ; hostilities  were  suspended ; and  all 
parties  united  in  common  amusements,  and 
common  ceremonies  of  religion. 

The  prayers  and  sacrifices  were  performed, 
and  the  military  games  had  begun,  when  the 
performers  and  spectators  were  alarmed  by  the 
sudden  clashing  of  armour,  and  the  sight  of  a 
real  battle.  The  Elians  had  marched  forth  with 
their  whole  forces,  and  surprised  the  Arcadians, 
who,  with  two  thousand  Argives,  and  a body  of 
Athenian  cavalry  amounting  to  four  hundred, 
guarded  the  sacred  groves  and  temples  of  Olym- 
pia. The  vigour  of  their  unexpected  assault 
successfully  repelled  these  intruders,  who  fled  in 
disorder  through  the  streets,  and  were  pursued 
by  the  Elians  with  an  inspired  valour,  “ since,” 
says  Xenophon,  “ Heaven  alone  can  do,  in  one 
day,  what  no  other  power  can  accomplish  but  in 
great  length  of  time  ; make  cowards  courage- 
ous.”2 The  Arcadians,  however,  recovering 
from  their  consternation,  began  to  rally.  The 
assailants  were  resisted  with  obstinacy ; but  did 
not  retire,  till  having  lost  Stratolas  their  com- 


1 Diodor.  I.  xv.  c.  20. 

2 To»outo«  ytvofitvoi  otovg  t*v  xqvtuv  Stag  fitv  xv  ifiTrvtv- 

<r«{  Jov*.  to  xcct  cv  Hjuifsc  xjroSjiSai*  avflftojro < ovS'i  xv  tv 
■X’CM.a)  X£6Va»  TOVf  (It)  0VTX(  XhXtfiOVf  ^OlHfTSVXV . p.  639. 


[Chap. 

mander,  with  other  brave  men,  they  retreated  in 
good  order,  after  giving  a conspicuous  proof  of 
their  courage  and  intrepidity  to  those  who  had 
long  despised  the  softness  of  their  unwarlike 
character.  The  Arcadians  renewed  the  guard 
with  double  vigilance ; fortified  the  avenues 
that  led  to  the  Stadium  and  Hippodrome ; and 
having  taken  these  necessary  precautions  against 
a second  surprise,  proceeded  with  the  remain- 
ing ceremonies  of  the  festival,  which,  though 
brought  to  an  undisturbed  conclusion,  was 
never  acknowledged  in  the  records  of  the 
Elians. 

After  celebrating  the  Olympic  games,  the 
mixed  concourse  of  people  returned  to  their  re- 
spective homes,  and  the  Arcadians  found  them- 
selves sole  masters  of  the  city  and  temple  of  Ju- 
piter, containing  the  collected  treasures  of  many 
centuries,  the  rich  gifts  of  vanity  and  supersti- 
tion. Opportunity,  joined  to  want,  is  naturally 
the  mother  of  injustice.  The  Arcadians,  who, 
to  promote  their  ambitious  designs,  had  raised  a 
body  of  standing  troops  called  Eparitoi,  laid  hold 
of  the  sacred  treasure,  in  order  to  pay  those  mer- 
cenaries, whose  demands  they  were  otherwise 
incapable  of  satisfying,  without  great  incon- 
venience. The  Mantinseans  first  protested 
against  this  unwarrantable  rapacity.  Instead  ot 
accepting  their  proportion  of  the  plunder,  they 
imposed,  for  the  payment  of  the  mercenaries,  a 
tax  on  themselves,  of  which  they  transmitted  the 
produce  to  the  archons,  or  magistrates,  appointed 
by  the  Ten  Tousand  to  administer  the  general 
concerns  of  the  Arcadian  nation.  The  archons, 
who  had  themselves  freely  handled  the  sacred 
money,  represented  to  their  constituents  the  af- 
fected delicacy  of  the  Man  tin  jeans  as  an  obsti- 
nacy extremely  dangerous  to  the  states  of  Ar- 
cadia, and  insinuated  that  this  unseasonable  re- 
gard for  justice  and  piety  most  probably  con- 
cealed some  very  criminal  design.3 

The  Ten  Thousand,  or,  as  we  should  say,  the 
States- General,  listened  to  this  insidious  accusa- 
tion; and  summoned  the  municipal  magistrates 
of  Mantinsea  to  appear  and  answer  for  their  con- 
duct. They  refused  to  obey  ; a detachment  of 
the  Eparitoi  was  sent  to  bring  them  by  force ; 
the  Mantinaeans  shut  their  gates.  This  firmness 
roused  the  attention  of  the  States ; and  many 
members  of  weight  in  that  assembly  began  to 
suspect  that  the  Mantinaeans  must  posses  some 
secret  ground  of  confidence,  that  encouraged 
them  to  set  at  defiance  an  authority  which  they 
were  bound  to  revere.  They  reflected  first  on 
the  alarming  consequences  to  which  Arcadia 
might  be  exposed  by  plundering  the  shrines  of 
Jupiter ; and  then  on  the  injustice  and  impiety 
of  the  deed  itself.  These  sentiments,  enforced 
by  the  superstition  of  the  age,  spread  with  ra- 
pidity in  the  assembly ; it  was  determined 
thenceforth  to  abstain  from  a consecrated  fund, 
the  violation  of  which  might  prove  dangerous 
to  themselves,  and  entail  a curse  on  their  pos- 
terity ; and,  to  prevent  the  bad  consequences 
of  the  desertion  of  the  Eparitoi,  whose  pay  must 
thereby  be  diminished,  many  wealthy  Arca- 
dians, who  could  subsist  on  their  private  in 
comes,  enrolled  themselves  in  their  stead. 


3 Xenoph.  1.  vii.  p.  638,  el  seq.  et  Diodor.  1.  xv.  c.  21. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


347 


XXXI.] 

These  measures,  though  approved  by  the 
States,  gave  great  uneasiness  to  the  archons,  to 
the  mercenaries,  and  to  all  who  had  shared  the 
Olympic  spoil,  lest  they  might  be  called  to  ac- 
count for  their  rapacity,  and  compelled  to  re- 
fund the  sums  which  they  had  embezzled.  To 
prevent  this  danger,  they  had  recourse  to  the 
Thebans,  from  whom  they  requested  immediate 
assistance,  on  pretence  that  the  States  of  Arca- 
dia were  ready  to  revolt  to  Sparta.  The  States, 
on  the  other  hand,  sent  an  embassy  requesting 
the  Thebans  not  to  pass  the  Isthmus,  until  they 
should  receive  further  invitation.  Nor  were 
they  satisfied  with  barely  counteracting  the  ne- 
gotiations of  their  enemies.  Having  determined 
not  to  derive  any  benefit  from  the  wealth  of 
Olympia,  they  thought  proper  to  restore  that 
city,  as  well  as  the  direction  of  the  games,  to 
those  who  had,  from  time  immemorial,  enjoyed 
both,  and  to  conclude  a peace  with  the  Elians, 
who  solicited  it  with  much  earnestness,  as  a 
measure  highly  conducive  to  the  general  in- 
terest of  the  Peloponnesus. 

The  congress,  assembled  for  this  beneficial 
purpose,  was  held  at  Tegea,  and  consisted  of 
deputies  from  Elis,  and  from  many  cities  of 
Arcadia.  When  matters  were  seemingly  ad- 
justed to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties,  enter- 
tainments, as  usual,  were  prepared ; and  the 
deputies,  except  those  of  Mantinaea,  most  of 
whom  were  invited  home  by  the  vicinity  of 
their  city,  remained  at  Tegea  to  celebrate  the 
feast  of  peace.  While  they  were  employed  in 
drinking  and  merriment,  the  archons^  and  such 
others  as  dreaded  the  consequences  of  this  hasty 
accommodation,  addressed  themselves  to  a'The- 
ban  general,  who  commanded  a considerable 
body  of  Boeotian  troops  that  had  long  garrison- 
ed Tegea,  in  order  to  secure  the  fidelity  of  that 
place  and  the  adjacent  territory.  The  Theban 
had  himself  made  free  with  the  sacred  treasure, 
and  was  therefore  easily  prevailed  on  to  embrace 
any  measure  that  might  prevent  an  inquiry  into 
that  enormous  crime.  Nothing  appeared  so 
proper  for  this  purpose  as  to  seize  and  detain 
the  unsuspecting  deputies,  who  consisted  of  the 
leading  men  from  most  cities  of  Arcadia.  This 
scheme  was  no  sooner  proposed,  than  carried 
into  execution.  The  gates  of  Tegea  were  se- 
cured ; a body  of  armed  men  surrounded  the 
place  of  entertainment;  the  deputies,  who  had 
prolonged  to  a late  hour  the  joys  of  festivity, 
were  taken  unprepared,  and  conducted  to  va- 
rious places  of  confinement,  their  number  be- 
ing too  great  for  one  prison  to  contain.4 

Next  day,  the  Mantinseans,  being  apprised  of 
this  unexpected  event,  despatched  messengers, 
demanding  some  few  of  their  citizens  who  hap- 
pened to  remain  at  Tegea,  after  the  departure 
of  their  companions ; and  at  the  same  time  ac- 
quainting the  magistrates  of  that  place,  the 
archons,  and  the  Theban  general,  that  no  Arca- 
dian could  be  put  to  death  without  a fair  and 
open  trial.  They  likewise,  without  loss  of  time, 
despatched  an  embassy  to  the  several  cities  of 
Arcadia,  rousing  them  to  arms  in  their  own 
defence,  and  exhorting  them  to  rescue  their  im- 
prisoned citizens,  and  to  avenge  the  insult  of- 


fered to  the  general  body  of  their  nation.  When 
those  who  had  committed  the  outrage,  and  es- 
pecially the  Theban  general,  were  acquainted 
with  the  vigour  of  these  proceedings,  they  began 
to  be  more  alarmed  than  before.  As  they  had 
seized  but  few  Mantinaeans,  they  could  derive 
little  advantage  from  the  hostages  of  that  city, 
whose  resentment  they  had  most  reason  to  fear. 
They  were  sensible  of  deserving  the  indignation 
of  Arcadia ; and  that  the  general  voice  of 
Greece  must  condemn  the  irregularity  and  vio- 
lence of  their  measures.  Intimidated  by  such 
reflections,  the  Theban  commander  at  once  set 
the  prisoners  at  liberty ; and,  appearing  next 
day  before  an  assembly  as  numerous  as  could 
be  collected  in  such  troublesome  times,  endea- 
voured to  excuse  his  conduct,  by  saying,  that 
he  had  heard  of  the  march  of  the  Lacedaemo- 
nian army  towards  the  frontier,  and  that  seve- 
ral of  the  deputies,  whom  he  had  seized,  were 
prepared  to  betray  Tegea  to  the  public  enemy. 
The  Arcadians  were  not  the  dupes  of  this  shal- 
low artifice  ; yet  they  abstained  from  punishing 
their  own  wrongs,  and  sent  ambassadors  to 
Thebes,  who  might  describe  the  injury  that  had 
been  committed,  and  impeach  the  criminals.5 

Upon  hearing  the  accusation, 
Epaminondas,  who  was  then  gene- 


Olymp 
civ.  2. 


A C *363  ra^  Boeotians,  declared,  that 

his  countrymen  had  done  better  in 
seizing,  than  in  discharging  the  Arcadians,  whose 
conduct  was  highly  blameable  in  making  peace 
without  the  advice  of  their  confederates.  “ Be 
assured,”  continued  he  to  the  ambassadors, 
“ that  the  Thebans  will  march  into  Arcadia, 
and  support  their  friends  in  that  province.” 
This  resolution,  which  expressed  the  general 
sense  of  the  republic,  was  heard  with  great  in- 
dignation by  the  Arcadian  states,  and  their 
allies  of  Elis  and  Achaia.  They  observed,  that 
the  Thebans  could  not  have  felt,  much  less 
have  expressed,  any  displeasure  at  the  peace 
of  Peloponnesus,  if  they  had  not  deemed  it  their 
interest  to  perpetuate  the  divisions  and  hostili- 
ties of  a country  which  they  wished  to  weaken 
and  to  subdue.  They  entered  into  a stricter 
alliance  with  each  other,  and  prepared  for  a 
vigorous  defence ; sending  ambassadors  to 
Athens  and  Sparta,  that  the  former  might  be 
ready  to  thwart  the  measures  of  a neighbouring 
and  rival  state,  and  that  the  latter  might  take 
arms  to  maintain  the  independence  of  that  por- 
tion of  Greece,  of  which  the  valour  of  Sparta 
had  long  formed  the  strength  and  bulwark. 

Q,  Duringthese  hostile  preparations, 

civ  CZ  Epaminondas  took  the  field  with 
all  the  Boeotians,  with  the  Euboeans, 
and  with  a strong  body  of  Thessa- 
lians, partly  supplied  by  Alexander,  and  partly 
raised  by  the  cities  which  Pelopidas  had  re- 
cently delivered  from  the  yoke  of  that  cruel 
tyrant.  Upon  his  arrival  in  the  Peloponnesus, 
he  expected  to  be  joined  by  the  Argives,  the 
Messenians,  and  several  communities  of  Arca- 
dia, particularly  the  inhabitants  of  Tegea  and 
Megalopolis.  With  these  hopes,  he  proceeded 
southward  to  Nemea,  an  ancient  city  in  the 
Argive  territory,  distinguished  by  the  games 


4 Xonoph.  p.  640. 


5 Xenoph.  p.  641. 


348 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


celebrated  in  honour  of  Hercules.  There  he 
encamped  for  several  days,  with  an  intention  to 
intercept  the  Athenians,  whose  nearest  route 
into  Peloponnesus  lay  through  the  district  of 
Nemea;  convinced  that  nothing  could  more 
contribute,  than  an  advantage  over  that  people 
in  the  beginning  of  the  campaign,  to  animate 
the  courage,  as  well  as  to  increase  the  number 
of  the  Theban  partisans  in  every  part  of  Greece. 
But  this  scheme  was  defeated  by  the  prudence 
of  the  Athenians,  who,  instead  of  marching 
through  the  Isthmus,  sailed  to  the  coast  of  La- 
conia, and  proceeded  from  thence  to  join  their 
confederates  at  Mantinaea.  Apprised  of  this 
design,  Epaminondas  moved  his  camp,  and 
marched  forward  to  Tegea,  which  being  strong- 
ly fortified  and  enjoying  a lofty  and  central 
situation,  was  judiciously  chosen  as  the  place 
of  rendezvous  for  his  Peloponnesian  confede- 
rates. Having  continued  several  weeks  at  Te- 
gea, he  was  much  disappointed  that  none  of 
the  neighbouring  towns  sent  to  offer  their  sub- 
mission, and  to  solicit  the  protection  of  the  The- 
ban arms.  This  waste  of  time  gave  him  the 
more  uneasiness,  as  his  command  was  limited 
to  a short  term.  The  strength  of  the  enemy 
at  Mantinsea  was  continually  increasing.  Age- 
silaus  had  already  conducted  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians to  the  frontier  of  Arcadia.  If  they  like- 
wise should  join,  the  combined  forces  would 
prove  superior  to  the  army  of  Epaminondas, 
which  amounted  to  thirty  thousand  in  number, 
and  of  which  the  cavalry  alone  exceeded  three 
thousand.  Considering  these  circumstances,  he 
suddenly  determined  on  an  enterprise,  which, 
if  crowned  with  success,  would  render  the  pre- 
sent hitherto  fruitless  expedition  not  unworthy 
of  his  former  fame. 

Having  decamped  with  his  whole  army  in 
the  night,  he  performed  a hasty  march  of  thirty 
miles,  in  order  to  surprize  Sparta ; and  had  not 
the  extraordinary  swiftness  of  a Cretan  deserter 
apprised  Agesilaus  of  the  danger,  that  city 
would  have  been  taken  unprepared,  and  totally 
incapable  of  defence.1  The  bulk  of  the  Lace- 
daemonian army  had  proceeded  too  far  on  the 
road  to  Mantinaea,  to  anticipate  the  design  of 
the  enemy ; but  the  aged  king,  with  his  son 
Archidamus,  returned,  with  a small  but  valiant 
band,  to  the  defence  of  Sparta.  The  engage- 
ment which  followed,  as  related  by  Xenophon, 
appears  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  that  his- 
tory records.  Epaminondas  had  employed 
every  precaution  which  his  peculiar  sagacity 
could  suggest ; he  did  not  approach  Sparta  by 
those  narrow  roads,  where  a superiority  of  num- 
bers would  afford  him  small  advantage;  he  did 
not  draw  up  his  forces  in  the  plain,  in  which, 
while  entering  the  town,  they  might  have  been 
annoyed  with  missile  weapons;  nor  did  he 
allow  an  opportunity  of  surprising  him  by  strata- 
gem or  ambuscade,  in  the  management  of  which 
the  Spartans  were  at  all  times  so  dexterous. 
Seizing  an  eminence  which  commanded  the 
town,  he  determined  to  descend  into  it  with 
every- advantage  on  his  side,  and  without  the 
seeming  possibility  of  being  exposed  to  any  in- 


1 Xenophon  says,  uxnrtQ  viottixv  jreevrcejrairiv  tpqftov 
rtav  wnwovfjitvojv.  Xenophon  p.  644.  “As  a nest  quite 

destitute  ef  its  defenders.” 


[Chap. 

convenience.  But  the  issue  of  so  well-con- 
certed an  enterprise,  the  historian  hesitates 
whether  to  refer  to  a particular  providence  of 
the  gods,  or  to  ascribe  to  the  invincible  courage 
of  men  actuated  by  despair.  Archidamus, 
with  scarcely  a hundred  men,  opposed  the  pro- 
gress of  the  enemy,  cut  down  the  first  ranks, 
and  advanced  to  assault  the  remainder.  Then, 
strange  to  relate ! those  Thebans,  says  Xeno- 
phon, who  breathed  fire,  who  had  so  often  con- 
quered, who  were  far  superior  in  number,  and 
who  possessed  the  advantage  of  the  ground, 
shamefully  gave  way.  The  Spartans  pursued 
them  with  impetuosity,  but  were  soon  repelled 
with  loss;  for  the  divinity,  whose  assistance 
had  produced  this  extraordinary  victory,  seems 
also  to*have  prescribed  the  limits  beyond  which 
it  was  not  to  extend.2 

Epaminondas,  foiled  in  an  attempt  which 
promised  such  a fair  prospect  of  success,  did  not 
sink  under  his  disappointment.  As  he  had 
reason  to  believe  that  the  whole  forces  at  Man- 
tinaea would  be  withdrawn  from  that  place  to 
the  defence  of  Sparta,  he  immediately  sounded 
a retreat,  returned  to  Tegea  with  the  utmost 
expedition,  and  allowing  his  infantry  to  take 
time  for  rest  and  refreshment,  he,  with  admira- 
ble presence  of  mind,  ordered  the  horse  to  ad- 
vance forward  to  Mantinaea,  (which  was  dis- 
tant only  twelve  miles,)  and  to  maintain  their 
ground  until  his  arrival  with  the  rest  of  the 
army.  He  expected  to  find  the  Mantinaeans 
totally  unprepared  for  such  avisit ; and  as  it  was 
then  autumn,  he  doubted  not  that  most  of  the 
townsmen  would  be  employed  in  the  country, 
in  reaping  and  bringing  in  the  corn.  His  plan 
was  wise,  and  well  executed.  The  situation  of 
the  Mantinaeans  corresponded  to  his  hopes. 
But  it  seemed  as  if  fortune  had  delighted  to 
baffle  his  sagacity.  Before  the  Theban  forces 
arrived  at  Mantinaea,  a numerous  and  powerful 
squadron  of  Athenian  cavalry  entered*  that 
place,  commanded  by  Hegelochus,  who  then 
first  learned  the  departure  of  the  allies  to  pro- 
tect the  Lacedaemonian  capital.  He  had  scarcely 
received  this  intelligence,  when  the  Thebans 
appeared,  and,  advancing  with  great  rapidity, 
prepared  to  effect  the  purpose  of  their  expedi- 
tion. The  Athenians  had  not  time  to  refresh 
themselves;  they  had  eat  nothing  that  day; 
they  were  inferior  in  number ; they  knew  the 
bravery  of  the  Theban  and  Thessalian  cavalry, 
with  whom  they  must  contend ; yet,  regardless 
of  every  consideration  but  the  safety  of  their 
allies,  they  rushed  into  the  field,  stopped  the 
progress  of  the  assailants,  and,  after  a fierce 
and  bloody  engagement,  which  displayed  great 
courage  on  both  sides,  obtained  an  acknow- 
ledged victory.  The  enemy  craved  the  bodies 
of  their  dead ; the  victors  erected  a trophy  of 
their  useful  valour,  which  had  saved  the  corn, 


2 Plutarch  tells  a story  on  this  occasion,  of  a young  Spar- 
tan named  Isadas,  who  stripped  naked,  anointed  himself 
with  oil,  sallied  forth  with  a spear  in  one  hand,  and  a 
sword  in  the  other,  and  traced  his  path  in  blood  through 
the  thickest  of  the  enemy.  He  returned  unhurt,  was 
crowned  for  his  valour,  but  fined  for  fighting  without  his 
shield.  Pint,  in  Agesil.  To  a modern  reader,  Xenophon’s 
account  of  the  battle  will  appear  a pompous  description  of 
the  effect  of  panic  terror  with  which  the  Thebans  were  in- 
spired, hv  finding,  instead  of  v£ott»*v  ov,  “a  defence- 
less nest.”  the  vigorous  opposition  of  men  in  arms. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


349 


XXXI.] 

cattle,  slaves,  women,  and  children3  of  Manti- 
neea  from  falling  a prey  to  the  invaders. 

The  repeated  misfortunes,  which  would  have 
broken  the  spirit  of  an  ordinary  commander, 
only  determined  Epaminondas  to  a general  en- 
gagement, in  which  he  might  either  wipe  off 
the  memory  of  his  late  disgrace,  or  obtain  an 
honourable  death,  fighting  to  render  his  country 
the  sovereign  of  Greece.  The  confederates 
had  re-assembled  at  Mantinaea,  strengthened  by 
considerable  reinforcements.  Fresh  succours 
had  likewise  arrived  to  the  Thebans.  Never 
had  such  numerous  armies4  taken  the  field 
during  the  perpetual  war  in  which  those  un- 
happy republics  were  engaged.  But  battles 
become  really  interesting,  not  so  much  by  the 
number  of  the  troops,  as  by  the  conduct  of  the 
generals.  It  is  worth  while,  says  the  military 
historian,5  to  observe  the  operations  of  Epami- 
nondas on  this  memorable  occasion.  Having 
ranged  his  men  in  battalions,  he  led  them,  not 
along  the  plain,  which  was  the  nearest  road  to 
Mantinaea,  but  turning  to  the  left,  conducted 
them  by  a chain  of  hills  which  joined  that  city 
and  Tegea,  and  skirted  the  eastern  extremity 
of  both.  The  enemy,  apprised  of  his  march, 
drew  up  their  forces  before  the  walls  of  Man- 
tinaea; the  Lacedaemonians,  and  such  Arca- 
dians as  had  embraced 'the  more  honourable 
cause,  in  the  right  wing,  the  Athenians  in  the 
left,  the  Achaeans  and  Elians  forming  the  main 
body.  Mean  while  Epaminondas  marched 
slowly  along,  extending  his  circuit,  as  if  he 
wished  to  decline  the  engagement.  Having 
approached  that  part  of  the  mountain  which 
faced  the  hostile  army,  he  ordered  his  men  to 
halt,  and  to  lay  down  their  arms.  His  former 
movements  had  occasioned  great  doubt  and 
perplexity;  but  now  it  seemed  evident  that  he 
had  laid  aside  all  thoughts  of  fighting  that  day, 
and  was  preparing  to  encamp.  This  opinion, 
too  lightly  conceived,  proved  fatal  to  the  enemy. 
They  abandoned  their  arms  and  their  ranks, 
dispersed  in  their  tents,  and  lost  not  only  that 
external  arrangement,  but  that  inward  prepara- 
tion,6 that  martial  ardour  of  mind,  which  ought 
to  animate  soldiers  at  the  near  prospect  of  an 
engagement.  Epaminondas  seized  the  decisive 
moment  of  attack.  Facing  to  the  right,  he  con- 
verted the  column  of  march  into  an  order  of 
battle.  His  troops  were  thus  disposed  instan- 
taneously in  the  same  order  in  which  he  meant 
to  fight.  At  the  head  of  his  left  wing,  which 
consisted  of  the  flower  of  the  Boeotians,  and 
which,  as  at  the  battle  of  Leuctra,  he  formed 
into  a firm  wedge,  with  a sharp  point,  and  with 
spreading  flanks,  he  advanced  against  the  Spar- 
tans and  Mantinaeans;  and  trusting  the  event 
of  the  battle  to  the  rapid  impulse  of  this  unex- 
pected onset,  he  commanded  the  centre  and 
right  wing,  in  which  he  placed  less  confidence, 
to  proceed  with  a slow  pace,  that  they  might 
not  come  up  and  grapple  with  the  opposing 
divisions  of  the  enemy,  until  the  victory  of  his 
left  wing  had  taught  them  to  conquer. 


3 Xenophon,  1.  vii.  p.  644. 

4 Diodorus,  1.  xv.  c.  21.  5 Xenoph.  p.  645. 

6 EX.v<re  ptv  toov  iroKtftuav  rqv  tv  txi(  7rgog 

tv)v  n»x^v  «\vrt  S'!  rtnv  tv  rxi(  trvvrx^tiriv. 

Xenoph.  p.  645. 


This  judicious  design  was  crown- 

• ed  w^h  merited  success.  The  ene- 

AV'c  my,  Perceiving  the  dreadful  shock 

* '■"  * to  which  they  were  exposed,  flew 

to  their  arms,  put  on  their  bucklers  and  helmets, 
bridled  their  horses,  and  suddenly  resumed  their 
ranks ; but  these  different  operations  were  per- 
formed with  the  trepidation  of  surprise  and 
haste,  rather  than  with  the  ardour  of  hope  and 
courage;  and  the  whole  army  had  the  appear- 
ance of  men  prepared  rather  to  suffer,  than  to 
inflict,  any  thing  cruel  or  terrible.7 8  The  Spar- 
tans and  Mantinaeans,  drawn  up  in  firm  order, 
sternly  waited  the  first  brunt  of  the  assailants. 
The  battle  was  fierce  and  bloody,  and  after 
their  spears  were  broken,  both  parties  had  re- 
coure  to  their  swords.  The  wedge  of  Epami- 
nondas at  length  penetrated  the  Spartan  line, 
and  this  advantage  encouraged  his  centre  and 
right  wing  to  attack  and  repel  the  correspond- 
ing divisions  of  the  enemy.  The  Theban  and 
Thessalian  cavalry  were  equally  successful. 
In  the  intervals  of  their  ranks  Epaminondas  had 
placed  a body  of  light  infantry,  whose  missile 
weapons  greatly  annoyed  the  enemy’s  horse, 
who  were  drawn  up  two  deep.  He  had  likewise 
taken  the  precaution  to  occupy  a rising  ground 
on  his  right  with  a considerable  detachment, 
which  might  take  the  Athenians  in  flank  and  rear, 
should  they  advance  from  their  post.  These 
prudent  dispositions  produced  a victory,  which 
Epaminondas  did  not  live  to  complete  or  im- 
prove. In  the  heat  of  the  battle  he  received  a 
mortal  wound, § and  was  carried  to  an  eminence, 
which  was  afterwards  called»the  Watch-tower,9 
probably  that  he  might  the  better  observe  the 
subsequent  operations  of  the  field.  But  with 
the  departure  of  their  leader  was  withdrawn 
the  spirit  which  animated  the  Theban  army. 
Having  impetuously  broken  through  the  hostile 
ranks,  they  knew  not  how  to  profit  of  this  ad- 
vantage. The  enemy  rallied  in  different  parts 
of  the  fields  and  prevailed  in  several  partial 
encounters.  All  was  confusion  and  terror.  The 
light  infantry,  which  had  been  posted  amidst 
the  Theban  and  Thessalian  horse,  being  left 
behind  in  the  pursuit,  were  received  and  cut  to 
pieces  by  the  Athenian  cavalry,  commanded 
by  Hegelochus.  Elated  with  this  success,  the 
Athenians  turned  their  arms  against  the  de- 
tachments placed  on  the  heights,  consisting 
chiefly  of  Eubceans,  whom  they  routed  and  put 

7 Tlxvti$  Se  Trtiiro/Kevois  tj  /uxWov  if  7roivi<rovtriv  tusxtirxv. 
Xenoph.  p.  646. 

8 Pausanias,  in  Arcad.  says,  that  Epaminondas  was 
killed  by  Grvllus,  the  son  of  Xenophon  the  Athenian  ; and, 
as  a proof  of  this  assertion,  mentions  a beautiful  picture  of 
the  battle  of  Mantinaea,  in  the  Ceramieus  of  Athens,  as 
well  as  the  monument  of  Gryllus,  erected  by  the  Manti 
nmans  on  the  field  of  battle;  both  subsisting  in  the  time  of 
Pausanias,  and  both  ascribing  to  this  Athenian  the  honour 
of  killing  Epaminondas.  Plutarch,  in  Agesilao,  says,  that 
Anticrates,  a Spartan,  killed  Epaminondas  with  a sword; 
that  his  posterity  were  thence  called  Machairionidas ; and 
that,  as  late  as  the  days  of  Plutarch,  they  enjoyed  certain 
immunities  and  honours  as  a recompense  for  the  merit  of 
their  ancestor  Anticrates  in  destroying  the  worst  enemy  of 
Sparta.  Gryllus  the  son  of  Xenophon  fell  in  the  battle  of 
Mantinaea;  and  the  words,  or  rather  the  silence  of  his 
father,  is  very  remarkable  concerning  the  death  of  Epami- 
nondas: “The  Theban  column  broke  the  Spartans,  but 
when  Epaminondas  fell,  tho  rest  know  not  how  to  uso  the 
victory.”  What  sublimity  in  this  passage,  if  Gryllus  really 
slew  Epaminondas ! 

9 Pausan.  ubi  supra. 


350 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


to  flight,  after  a terrible  slaughter.  With  such 
alternations  of  victory  and  defeat  ended  this 
memorable  engagement.  Both  armies,  as  con- 
querors, erected  a trophy ; both  craved  their 
dead,  as  conquered;1  and  this  battle,  which  be- 
ing certainly  the  greatest,  was  expected  to  have 
proved  the  most  decisive  ever  fought  among 
the  Greeks,  produced  no  other  consequence 
but  that  general  languor  and  debility  long  re- 
markable in  the  subsequent  operations  of  those 
hostile  republics. 

When  the  tumult  of  the  action  ceased,  the 
most  distinguished  Thebans  assembled  around 
their  dying  general.  His  body  had  been  pierced 
with  a javelin  ; and  the  surgeons  declared,  that 
it  was  impossible  for  him  to  survive  the  extrac- 
tion of  the  weapon.  He  asked  whether  his 
shield  was  safe  ? which  being  presented  to  him, 
he  viewed  it  with  a languid  smile  of  melan- 
choly joy.  He  then  demanded,  wThether  the 
Thebans  had  obtained  the  victory  ? Being  an- 
swered in  the  affirmative  (for  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians indeed  had  first  sent  to  demand  the  bodies 
of  their  slain,)  he  declared  himself  ready  to 
quit  life  without  regret,  since  he  left  his  country 
triumphant.  The  spectators  lamented,  among 
other  objects  of  sorrow,  that  he  should  die 
without  children,  who  might  inherit  the  glory 
of  h*is  name,  and  the  fame  of  his  virtues.  “ You 
mistake,”  said  he  with  a cheerful  presence  of 
mind,  “ I leave  two  fair  daughters,  the  battles 
of  Leuctra  and  Mantinaea,  who  will  transmit 
my  renown  to  the  latest  ages.”  So  saying,  he 
ordered  the  weapon  to  be  extracted,  and  imme- 
diately expired.  The  awful  solemnity  of  his 
death  corresponded  with  the  dignified  splen- 
dour of  an  active  and  useful  life.  He  is  usually 
described  as  a perfect  character  ;2  nor  does  the 
truth  of  history  oblige  us  to  detract  any  thing 
from  this  description,  except  that  in  some  in- 
stances, and  particularly  in  his  last  fatal  inva- 
sion of  the  Peloponnesus,  he  allowed  the  blaze 
of  patriotism  to  eclipse  the  mild  light  of  jus- 
tice and  benevolence.  He  was  buried  in  the 
field  of  battle,  where  his  monument  still  ex- 
isted, after  four  centuries,  in  the  time  of  Pau- 
sanias,  with  an  inscription  in  elegiac  verse, 
enumerating  his  exploits.  Hadrian,  then  mas- 
ter of  the  Roman  world,  added  a second  co- 
lumn, with  a new  inscription,3  in  honour  of  a 
character,  whom  that  unsteady  emperor  had 
genius  to  admire,  but  wanted  firmness  to  imi- 
tate. 

An  elegant  Roman  writer  gives  a brief  but 
comprehensive  panegyric  of  Epaminondas,  that 
during  his  lifetime  Thebes  was  the  arbiter  of 
Greece ; whereas  both  before  and  afterwards, 
that  republic  continually  languished  in  servi- 
tude or  dependence.4  But  this  observation 

1 Xonoph.  1.  vii.  ad  fin. 

2 Cicero  Acad.  Quaest.  1.  i.  ct  Passim.  Plutarch.  Corn. 
Nepos.  Pausan. 

3 Vid.  Pausan.  in  Arcad.  ct  Boeotic. 

4 Hujus  de  virtutibus  vitaque  satis  erit  dictum,  si  hoc 


[Chap. 

betrays  the  inaccurate  partiality  of  a biogra- 
pher, who  often  exalts  the  glory  of  a favourite 
hero,  at  the  expense  of  historic  truth.  By  the 
death  of  Epaminondas,  Thebes  was  deprived 
of  her  principal  ornament  and  defence,  the 
source  of  her  confidence,  and  the  spring  of  her 
activity ; and  her  councils  were  thenceforth 
less  ambitious,  and  her  arms  less  enterprising.5 
But  six  years  after  that  event,  she  controlled 
the  decisions  of  the  Amphictyonic  council,  and, 
instead  of  being  reduced  to  a condition  of  de- 
pendence, her  power  was  still  formidable  to  the 
most  warlike  of  her  neighbours. 
q.  Soon  after  the  battle  of  Mantl- 

ed g”’  naea,  a general  peace  was  proposed 
A C *36°  un(*er  me(liation  of  Artaxerxes, 
’ ' ’ who  wanted  Grecian  auxiliaries  to 

check  the  insurrections  in  Egypt  and  Lesser 
Asia,  which  disturbed  the  two  last  years  of  his 
reign.  The  only  condition  annexed  to  this 
treaty  was,  that  each  republic  should  retain  its 
respective  possessions.  The  Spartans  deter- 
mined to  reject  every  accommodation  until  they 
had  recovered  Messenia ; and  as  Artaxerxes 
had  uniformly  opposed  this  demand,  they  trans- 
ported forces  into  Egypt,  to  foment  the  defec- 
tion of  that  province.  At  the  head  of  a thou- 
sand heavy-armed  Lacedaemonians,  and  ten 
thousand  mercenaries,  Agesilaus  supported  one 
rebel  after  another,  having  successively  set 
on  the  throne  Taches  and  Nectanebas.6  In 
this  dishonourable  war  he  amassed  considerable 
wealth,  by  means  of  which  he  probably  ex- 
pected to  retrieve  the  affairs  of  his  country. 

But  returning  home  by  Cyrenaica, 
c«  ^ he  died  on  that  coast,  in  the  eighty- 

A r fourth  year  of  his  age,  and  forty- 

’ 15  * first  of  his  reign.7 8  His  character 

has  been  sufficiently  Illustrated  in  the  course  ot 
this  work.  He  was  the  greatest,  and  the  most 
unfortunate  of  the  Spartan  kings.  He  had 
seen  the  highest  grandeur  of  Sparta,  and  he 
beheld  her  fall.  During  the  time  that  he  go- 
verned the  republic,  his  country  suffered  more 
calamities  and  disgrace  than  in  seven  centuries 
preceding  his  reign.  His  ambition  and  his  ob- 
stinacy, doubtless,  contributed  to  her  disasters  ; 
yet  so  natural  were  the  principles  from  which 
he  acted,  so  probable  his  hopes  of  success,  and 
so  firm  and  manly  his  struggles  for  victory,  that 
a contemporary  writer,  who  could  see  through 
the  cloud  of  fortune,  ventured  to  bestow  on 
Agesilaus  a panegyric, 8 w’hich  exalts  him  be- 
yond the  renown  of  his  most  illustrious  prede- 
cessors. 


unum  adjunxero,  quod  nemo  est  injicias ; Thcbas  et  ante 

Epaminondam  natum,  et  po9t  ejus  interitum,  perpctuo 

alieno  paruisse  imperio;  contra  ea,  quamdiu  ille  prasfuerit 
rei  public®,  caput  fuisse  totius  Graecise.  Corn.  Nepos,  in 

Epam. 

5 Vid.  Polyb.  Hist.  1.  vi.  c.  xli. 

6 Plut.  in  Ajesilao.  Diodorus,  1.  xv.  c.  xxii. 

7 Diodor.  ibid. 

8 O Aoyo;  ns  Aye<ri\eeov}  by  Xenophon. 


XXXII.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


351 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


State  of  Greece  after  the  Battle  of  Mantincea — The  Amphictyonie  Council — Returning  prospe- 
rity of  Athens — Vices  resulting  from  its  Government — Abuses  of  the  judiciary  power — Of  the 
Theatre — Degeneracy  of  Grecian  Music — Extreme  Profligacy  of  the  Athenians — The  Vices  of 
Chares  render  him  the  Idol  of  the  Multitude — The  Social  War — Banishment  of  Timotheus  and 
lphicrates — Disgraceful  Issue  of  the  War — Philosophy — Statuary — Praxiteles — The  Cnidian 
Venus — Painting — Pamphilus , JYicias , Zeuxis — Literature — Xenophon — His  Military  Expe- 
ditions— Religious  and  Literary  Retreat — Lysias — Isocrates — Plato — His  Travels — He  settles 
in  the  Academy — His  great  Views — Theology — Cosmogony — Doctrine  of  Ideas — Of  the  Hu- 

■Virtues — State  of  Retribution — Genius , and  Character. 


"II/TTH  the  battle  of  Mantinaea  ended9 *  the 
**  bloody  struggle  for  dominion,  which  had 
long  exhausted  Thebes  and  Sparta.  In  that, 
or  in  the  preceding  engagements,  they  had  lost 
their  ablest  generals,  and  the  flower  of  their 
troops.  No  Theban  arose  to  emulate  the  mag- 
nanimity of  Epaminondas,  and  to  complete  the 
designs  of  that  illustrious  patriot.  Archidamus, 
who  succeeded  to  the  Spartan  throne,  imper- 
fectly justified  the  high  opinion  conceived  of 
his  early  wisdom  and  valour.  Weakened  by 
their  wounds,  and  fatigued  by  exertions  long 
and  fruitless,  those  republics  sunk  into  such 
weakness,  as  encouraged  pretensions  of  their 
neighbours  that  had  long  lain  dormant. 
q.  During  the  superiority,  or,  in  the 

cif  4’  language  of  ancient  writers, -during 
A C qfii  t^ie  emPire  °f  Athens,  Sparta,  and 
Thebes,  the  majesty  of  the  Am- 
phictyonic  council  had  degenerated  into  an 
empty  pageant.  Its  deliberations  were  confined 
to  matters  of  mere  form ; it  regulated  some 
ceremonies  of  superstition ; it  superintended 
games  and  spectacles ; it  preserved  peace  and 
good  order  among  the  crowd  of  strangers  who 
assembled,  at  stated  times,  to  consult  the  oracle 
of  Apollo.  But  for  more  than  a century  past, 
the  public  measures  of  the  Greeks  had  been 
directed  by  councils  held,  not  at  Delphi,  the 
residence  of  the  Amphictyons,  but  in  Athens, 
Sparta,  or  Thebes,  in  one  or  other  of  which 
the  allies  convened  on  every  important  emer- 
gency, acknowledging,  by  their  presence  there, 
the  respective  authority  of  those  capitals  which 
were  regarded  as  the  heads  of  their  severaJ 
confederacies.  But  when  first  the  Peloponne- 
sian, then  the  Boeotian  war,  and  last  of  all  the 
battle  of  Mantinaea,  had  levelled  the  greatness, 
and  overthrown  the  proud  tyranny  of  those 
domineering  republics,  the  Amphictyonie  coun- 
cil once  more  emerged  from  obscurity  ; and  the 
general  states  of  Greece  having  assembled  ac- 
cording to  their  national  and  hereditary  forms, 
spurned  the  imperious  dictates  of  any  single 
community. 


9  Xenophon’s  Greek  history  likewise  entfs  with  that 
battle.  Henceforth  we  follow  Plutarch  and  Diodorus,  from 

whom  we  learn  the  principal  circumstances  of  great  events, 
which  the  orators  Isocrates  and  Demosthenes,  Aristotle’s 
Treatise  of  Politics,  and  Xenophon’s  Discourses  on  the 

Revenues  and  Government  of  Athens,  will  enable  us  more 
fully  to  explain. 


cv.  2. 

A.  C. 
360—358. 


While  this  event  strengthened 
the  federal  union,  and  tended  to 
restore  the  primitive  equality  of 
the  Grecian  states,  various  circum- 
stances concurred  to  revive  the  as- 
piring ambition  of  Athens.  Dur- 
ing the  Boeotian  war,  the  Athenians  had  acted 
as  auxiliaries  only  ; without  making  such  ef- 
forts as  enfeebled  their  strength,  their  arms  had 
acquired  great  lustre.  Their  powerful  rivals 
were  humbled  and  exhausted  : experience  had 
taught  them  the  danger  of  attempting  to  subdue, 
and  the  impossibility  of  keeping  in  subjection, 
the  territories  of  their  warlike  neighbours  : but 
the  numerous  islands  of  the  Aegean  and  Ionian 
seas,  the  remote  coasts  of  Thrace  and  Asia,  in- 
vited the  activity  of  their  fleet,  which  they 
might  now  employ  in  foreign  conquests,  fear- 
less of  domestic  envy.  It  appears,  that  soon 
after  the  death  of  Epaminondas,  Euboea  again 
acknowledged  the  authority19  of  Athens;  an 
event  facilitated  by  the  destruction  of  the  The- 
ban partisans,  belonging  to  that  place,  in  the 
battle  of  Mantinaea.  From  the  Thracian  Bos- 
phorus to  Rhodes,  several  places  along  both 
shores  submitted  to  the  arms  of  Timotheus, 
Chabrias,  and  lphicrates ; men,  who  having 
survived  Agesilaus  and  Epaminondas,  were 
far  superior,  in  abilities  and  in  virtue,  to  the 
contemporary  generals  of  other  republics.  The 
Cyclades  and  Corcyra  courted  the  friendship 
of  a people  capable  to  interrupt  their  naviga- 
tion and  to  destroy  their  commerce.  Byzan- 
tium had  become  their  ally,  and  there  was  rea- 
son to  hope  that  Amphipolis  would  soon  be 
rendered  their  subject.  Such  multiplied  ad- 
vantages revived  the  ancient  grandeur  of 
Athens,  which  once  more  commanded  the  sea, 
with  a fleet  of  near  three  hundred  sail,  and 
employed  the  best  half  of  her  citizens  and  sub- 
jects in  ships  of  war  or  commerce.11 

This  tide  of  prosperity,  which  flowed  with 


10  Comp.  Diodor.  1.  xri.  p.  513.  andDemosthencs  de  Cher- 
soneso,  sub  fine,  and  Aeschines  in  Ctesiphont.  It  appears, 
however,  from  these  authors,  that  the  Thebans  soon  after- 
wards endeavoured  to  recover  Euboea.  The  Athenians 
again  rescued  it  from  their  power,  at  the  exhortation  of 
Timotheus,  whose  pithy  speech  is  commended  by  Demos- 
thenes : “ What,  my  countrymen,  the  Thebans  in  the  island, 
and  you  still  deliberating!  Why  no^  already  in  the  har- 
bour? why  not  embarkod  ? why  is  not  the  sea  covered 
with  your  navy?”  Dcmosthen.  ubi  supra. 

11  Xenoph.  Hellen.  1.  vii.  p.  615.  Diodorus  1.  xv.  c.  xi. 
Isocrat.  Panegyr.  and  de  Pace. 


362 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


most  apparent  force  immediately  after  the  battle 
of  Mantinaea,1  has  been  supposed  productive  of 
very  important  consequences.  While  Epami- 
nondas  lived,  the  Athenians,  it  is  said,  were 
kept  vigilant  in  duty  through  jealousy  and  fear; 
but  after  the  death  of  this  formidable  enemy, 
they  sunk  into  those  vices  which  occasioned 
their  ruin.  This  specious  remark  is  not  found- 
ed in  truth.  Two  centuries  before  the  birth  of 
Epaminondas,  the  injustice,  the  avarice,  the 
total  corruption  of  the  Athenians,  is  forcibly 
described  by  one  of  the  most  respectable  of  their 
countrymen,2  who  composed  a system  of  wise 
laws  in  order  to  ascertain  their  rights,  and  to 
reform  their  manners.  But  it  was  difficult  to 
correct  abuses  that  seem  inherent  in  the  nature 
of  democracy,  which,  even  as  regulated  by  Solon, 
but  still  more  as  n^w-modeled  by  Pericles,  left 
the  citizens  tyrants  in  one  capacity,  and  slaves 
in  another.  The  division  of  the  executive  power 
of  government  among  the  archons,  the  senate, 
assembly,  and  even  various  committees  of  the 
assembly,  rendered  it  impossible  to  perceive,  or 
prevent,  the  hand  of  oppression.  Men  knew 
not  from  what  quarter  their  safety  might  be 
assailed  ; and  being  called  to  authority  in  their 
turn,  they,  instead  of  making  united  opposition 
to  the  injustice  of  their  magistrates,  contented 
themselves  with  inflicting  the  same  injuries 
which  they  had  either  previously  suffered,  or 
still  apprehended,  from  the  malice  of  their  ene- 
mies. Nor  is  this  inconvenience  peculiar  to  the 
Greek  republics.  While  human  nature  remains 
unchanged,  and  the  passions  of  men  run  in  their 
ordinary  channel,  the  right  to  exercise  power 
will  commonly  be  attended  with  a strong  in- 
clination to  abuse  it.  Unless  power,  therefore, 
be  counteracted  by  liberty  ; unless  an  imper- 
vious line  of  separation  be  drawn  between  pre- 
rogative and  privilege,  and  that  part  of  the 
constitution  which  sustains  its  political  life,  be 
kept  separate  and  distinct  from  that  which 
tends  to  corruption,  it  is  of  little  consequence 
whether  a country  be  governed  by  one  tyrant 
or  a thousand  ; in  both  cases  alike  the  condi- 
tion of  man  is  precarious,  and  force  prevails 
over  law. 

This  radical  defect  in  the  Grecian  policies 
produced  many  ruinous  consequences  in  affairs 
foreign  and  domestic,  which  were  commonly 
directed  by  the  selfish  passions  of  a few,  or  the 
fluctuating  caprices  of  the  multitude,  rather  than 
by  the  rational  and  permanent  interest  of  the 
community.  But  as  diseases  and  other  accidents 
often  bring  to  light  the  latent  weakness  and 
imperfections  of  the  body,  so  the  vices  of  the 
Athenian  government  first  appeared  in  their 
full  magnitude  after  the  unfortunate  war  of 
Peloponnesus;  and,  although  the  excess  of  the 
malady  sometimes  checked  itself,  and  returns 
of  ease  and  prosperity  sometimes  concealed  its 
virulence,  yet  the  deep-rooted  evil  still  main- 
tained its  destructive  progress,  till  it  wrought 
the  ruin  of  the  constitution. 


1 Justin.  1.  vi.  c.  ix.  first  made  this  observation,  which 
has  been  so  frequently  repeated. 

2 See  above,  p.  162.  and  the  elegiac  verses  of  Solon  pre- 
served in  Demosthenes  Orat.  rrxgx^r^eoSuxs ; a title 
that  can  only  be  translated  by  a paraphrase  “ the  miscon- 
duct of  iEschines  in  his  embassy.’ 


[Chap. 

In  the  tumultuary  governments  of  Greece, 
where  the  judiciary  power  frequently  prevailed 
over  the  legislative,  the  sources  of  dissension 
were  innumerable ; while  the  feeble  restraint  of 
laws,  ill  administered,  was  unable  to  counteract 
their  force.  Although  hereditary  distinctions 
were  little  known  or  regarded,  the  poor  and 
rich  formed  two  distinct  parties,  which  had 
their  particular  views  and  separate  interests.  In 
some  republics  the  higher  ranks  bound  them 
selves,  by  oath,  to  neglect  no  opportunity  of 
hurting  their  inferiors.3  The  populace  of  Athena 
commonly  treated  the  rich  as  if  they  had  enter 
ed  into  an  engagement  not  less  atrocious.4 
During  the  intervals  of  party  rage,  private 
quarrels  kept  the  state  in  perpetual  fermenta 
tion.  Beside  the  ordinary  disputes  concerning 
property,  the  competitions  for  civil  offices,  for 
military  command,  for  obtaining  public  ho- 
nours, or  eluding  punishments  or  burdens,  open- 
ed an  ever-flowing  source  of  bitter  animosity. 
Among  this  litigious  people,  neighbours  were 
continually  at  variance.  Every  man  was  re- 
garded as  a rival  and  enemy,  who  had  not 
proved  himself  a friend.5  Hereditary  resent- 
ments were  perpetuated  from  one  generation 
to  another ; and  the  seeds  of  discord  being 
sown  in  such  abundance,  yielded  a never-failing 
crop  of  libels,  invectives,  and  legal  prosecutions. 
The  usual  employment  of  six  thousand  Athe- 
nians consisted  in  deciding  law-suits,  the  profits 
of  which  afforded  the  principal  resource  of  the 
poorer  citizens.  Their  legal  fees  amounted  an- 
nually to  a hundred  and  fifty  talents ; the  bribes 
which  they  received,  sometimes  exceeded  that 
sum  ; and,  both  united,  formed  a sixth  part  of 
the  Athenian  revenues,6  even  in  the  most  flou- 
rishing times.  As  the  must  numerous  but  most 
worthless  class  of  the  people  commonly  prevail- 
ed in  the  assembly,  so  they  had  totally  engrossed 
the  tribunals ; and  it  was  to  be  expected  that 
such  judges  would  always  be  more  swayed  by 
favour  and  prejudice  than  by  law  and  reason. 
The  law  punished  with  death  Jthe  man  guilty  of 
giving  bribes ; but  “ we,”  say  the  Athenian 
writers,7  “ advance  him  to  the  command  of 
our  armies ; and  the  more  criminal  he  becomes 
in  this  respect,  with  the  higher  and  more  lucra- 
tive honours  is  he  invested.”  Those  who 
courted  popular  favour,  lavished  not  only  their 
own,  but  the  public  wealth,  to  flatter  the  pas- 
sions of  their  adherents ; an  abuse  which  began 
during  the  splendid  administration  of  Pericles,8 9 
extended  more  widely  under  his  unworthy 
successors  ; and,  though  interrupted  during  the 
calamities  of  the  republic,  revived  with  new 
force  on  the  first  dawn  of  returning  prosperity .9 

In  the  license  of  democratic  freedom,  the 
citizens,  poor  and  rich,  thought  themselves 
alike  entitled  to  enjoy  every  species  of  festivity. 
Pericles  introduced  the  practice  of  exhibiting 
not  only  tragedies,  but  comedies,  at  the  public 
expense,  and  of  paying  for  the  admission  of  the 


3 Aristot.  Polit.  Isocrat.  et  Lysias,  passim. 

4 Xenoph.  de  Rep.  Athen. 

5 See  Lysias  passim,  et  Xenoph.  Memorab.  1.  ii.  p.  748, 
et  seq. 

6 Aristot.  Vesp. 

7 Isocrat.  de  Pace,  et  Demosthenes,  passim. 

8 Thucydides,  p.  108,  et  seq. 

9 Plut.  in  Pericle. 


XXXIi.l  HISTORY  OF  GREECE.  353 


populace.  At  the  period  of  which  we  write,  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  revenue  was  appro- 
priated to  the  theatre ; and  some  years  after- 
wards,^ a law  was  proposed  by  the  demagogue 
Eubulus,  and  enacted  by  the  senate  and  people, 
rendering  it  capital  to  divert,  or  even  to  propose 
diverting,  the  theatrical  money  to  any  other  end 
or  object.* 11 

Of  all  amusements  known  in  polished  society, 
the  Grecian  theatre  was,  doubtless,  the  most 
elegant  and  ingenious ; yet  several  circumstances 
rendered  it  peculiarly  liable  to  abuse.  The 
great  extent  of  the  edifices  in  which  plays  were 
represented,  naturally  introduced  masques,  the 
better  to  distinguish  the  different  persons,12  or 
characters,  of  the  drama ; since  the  variations 
of  passion,  with  the  correspondent  changes  of 
countenance,  which  form  the  capital  merit  of 
modern  performers,  could  scarcely  have  been, 
observed  by  an  immense  crowd  of  people,  many 
of  whom  must  have  been  placed  at  a great  dis- 
tance from  the  scene.  The  same  causes,  to- 
gether with  the  inimitable  harmony  of  the 
Greek  language,  gave  rise  to  musical  declama- 
tion,13 which  might  sometimes  fortify  passion, 
but  always  rendered  speecfi  more  slow  and  ar- 
ticulate, and  therefore  more  easily  heard  by  the 
remote  part  of  the  audience.  In  combining  the 
different  parts  of  a tragic  fable,  the  poet  na- 
turally rejects  such  incidents  as  are  improper 
for  representation.  These,  if  necessary  for  car- 
rying on  the  action  of  the  piece,  are  supposed 
to  be  transacted  elsewhere,  and  barely  related 
on  the  theatre.  The  time  required  for  such 
events,  when  they  are  not  simultaneous  with 
those  exhibited  on  the  stage,  necessarily  inter- 
rupts the  representation,  and  leaves  room  for 
the  choral  songs,  which  being  incorporated  with 
the  tragedy,  heightens  its  effect,  and  increases 
the  spectator’s  delight ; consequences  extremely 
different  from  those  attending  the  act-tunes  and 
detached  airs  of  modern  plays  and  operas,  uni- 
versally condemned  by  good  judges,  as  sus- 
pending the  action,  and  destroying  the  interest 
of  the  drama,  and  only  affording  opportunities 
to  effeminate  throats  to  shine  in  trills  and  di- 
visions, at  the  expense  of  poetry  and  good  sense. 
But  in  ancient,  as  well  as  modern  times,  the 
corrupt  taste  of  the  licentious  vulgar  was  ever 
at  variance  with  the  discerning  judgment  of  the 
wise  and  virtuous.  The  form  and  arrangement 
of  the  Grecian  tragedy  was  exactly  imitated  in 
the  extravagant  pieces  of  Aristophanes,  and 
his  profligate  contemporaries  and  successors.14 
These  pernicious  productions  formed  the  fa- 
vourite entertainment  of  the  populace.  The 
masque,  disguising  the  countenance  of  the  per- 
former, allowed  him  to  indulge  in  the  most  un- 
blushing license  of  voice  and  gesture ; the  de- 

10 Before  Christ  349,  according  to  S.  Petitus,  de  Leg. 

Attic,  p.  385.  * 

11  Plutarch,  in  Pericle,  et  Demosthen.  Oration,  passim. 

12  It  is  well  know  that  the  word  persona  originally  sig- 
nified a masque,  from personare,  because  the  ancient  masks, 
both  Greek  and  Roman,  were  so  made  as  to  increase  and 
invigorate  sound. 

13  Notwithstanding  the  assertions  of  Casaubon,  Gravina, 
&c.  the  Greeks  in  ancient  times  seem  not  to  have  been  ac- 
quainted with  the  absurd  practice  of  dividing  the  acting  and 
speaking  between  two  persons.  This  is  mentioned  by  Livy, 
as  the  invention  of  Titus  Andronicus,  who  flourished  240 
years  before  Christ. 

14  See  p.  172. 

2 Y 


clamation  was  effeminate  and  vicious  ; above 
all,  the  music  became  glaring,  tawdy,  volup- 
tuous, and  dissolute  in  the  highest  degree,  and 
suited  only  that  perverse  debauchery  of  soul 
from  which  it  originally  sprung,  and  which  it 
served  afterward  to  inflame  and  nourish.15 

A mysterious  cloud  hangs  over  the  Grecian 
music,  to  which  effects  are  ascribed  far  tran- 
scending the  actual  power  of  that  art.  Yet  we 
cannot  refuse  our  assent  to  the  concurring  tes- 
timony of  ancient  writers,  who  refer  to  this 
principle  the  extreme  degeneracy  and  corruption 
which  almost  universally  infected  the  Athenians 
at  the  period  now  under  review.  Causes  which 
operate  on  the  many,  are  not  easily  mistaken ; 
but  should  we  still  doubt  the  cause,  the  effect  at 
least  cannot  be  denied.  The  Athenian  youth 
are  said  to  have  dissipated  their  fortunes,  and 
melted  the  vigour  of  mind  and  body,  in  wanton 
and  expensive  dalliance  with  the  female  per- 
formers on  the  theatre.16  Weary  and  fastidious 
with  excess  of  criminal  indulgence,  they  lost  all 
capacity  or  relish  for  solid  and  manly  occupa- 
tions ; and  at  once  deserted  the  exercises  of 
war,  and  the  schools  of  philosophers.  To  fill 
up  the  vacuities  of  their  listless  lives,  they,  as 
well  as  persons  more  advanced  in  years,  loi- 
tered in  the  shops  of  musicians,  and  other  art- 
ists ;17  and  sauntered  in  the  forum  and  public 
places,  idly  inquiring  after  news,  in  which  they 
took  little  interest,  unless  some  danger  alarmed 
the  insipid  uniformity  of  their  pleasures.18  Dice, 
and  other  games  of  chance,  were  carried  to  a 
ruinous  excess ; and  are  so  keenly  stigmatized 
by  the  moral  writers  of  the  age,  that  it  should 
seem  they  had  begun  but  recently  to  prevail, 
ane  prove  fatal.19  The  people  at  large  were 
peculiarly  addicted  to  the  sensual  gratifications 
of  the  table  ; and,  might  we  believe  a poet 
quoted  by  Athenaeus,  had  lately  bestowed  the 
freedom  of  their  city  (once  deemed  an  honour 
by  princes  and  kings)20  on  the  sons  of  Chaere- 
philus,  on  account  of  the  uncommon  merit  of 
their  father  in  the  art  of  cookery.21 

Idleness,  indulgence,  and  dissipation,  had  re- 
duced the  greater  part  of  the  Athenian  citizens 
to  extreme  indigence.  Although  landed  pro- 
perty was  more  equally  divided  in  Greece  than 
in  any  modern  country,  we  are  told  that  about 
one  fourth  of  the  Athenians  were  totally  desti- 


15  Aristotle,  1.  viii.  de  Republ.  says  ironically,  “ Every 
'kind  of  music  is  good  for  something;  that  of  the  theatres 

is  necessary  for  the  amusement  of  the  mob;  being  well 
suited  to  the  perversion  of  their  minds  and  manners,  and  let 
them  enjoy  it.”  Plato,  Aristoxenus,  and  Plutarch,  bitterly 
complain  ofthc  corruption  of  music,  as  the  main  source  of  vice 
and  immorality.  That  art,  which  had  anciently  been  used  as 
the  vehicle  of  religious  and  moral  instruction,  was  employed 
in  the  theatres  to  excite  every  voluptuous  and  dissolute  pas- 
sion. Plato  de  Lcgibus,  1.  iii.  Aristoxenus,  quoted  by  Athe- 
nieus,l.xiv.  et  Plutarch,  de  Musica.  In  speaking  of  the  vices  of 
London,  a writer,  who  had  the  spirit  of  an  ancient  legislator, 
says,  “That  were  a man  permitted  to  make  all  the  ballads 
of  a nation,  he  needed  not  care  who  should  make  its  laws.” 
Fletcher  of  Saltoun’s  Works,  p.  206. 

16  Athenaeus,  1.  xii.  p.  534.  who  gives  a general  descrip- 
tion of  Athenian  profligacy. 

17  Isocrat.  in  Areopag.  and  Lysias’s  defence  of  a poor 
man  accused  beforo  the  senate,  translated  in  the  Life  of 
Lysias,  p.  114. 

18  Demosthen.  Philipp,  passim. 

19  Athcnmus, 1.  xii.  Lysias  in  Alcibiad. 

20  Demosthen.  de  Republic,  ordinand. 

21  Athcnteue,  1.  iii.  p.  119 


354 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


tute  of  immoveable  possessions.1  Their  dress 
was  frequently  so  mean  and  dirty,  that  it  was 
difficult,  by  their  external  appearance,  to  dis- 
tinguish them  from  slaves ; a circumstance 
which  arose  not  from  slovenliness,  but  from 
poverty,  since  we  are  assured  that  such  as  could 
afford  the  expense  spared  no  pains  to  adorn 
their  persons  ; and  that  many  who  danced  dur- 
ing summer  in  embroidered  robes,  spent  the 
winter  in  places  too  shameful  to  be  named.2 
And  how  is  it  possible  (to  use  the  words  of  their 
own  authors)3  that  wretches  destitute  of  the 
first  necessaries  of  life  should  administer  public 
affairs  with  wisdom  ? We  find  accordingly, 
that  they  were  extremely  ill  qualified  for  execu- 
ting those  offices  with  which  they  were  entrust- 
ed. As  the  lower  ranks  had  in  a great  measure 
engrossed  the  administration  of  justice,  it  was 
not  uncommon  to  bribe  the  clerks  employed  in 
transcribing  the  laws  of  Solon,  to  abridge,  in- 
terpolate, and  corrupt  them.  What  is  still 
more  extraordinary,  such  a gross  artifice  fre- 
quently succeeded;  nor  was  the  deceit  discover- 
ed until  litigant  parties  produced  in  court  con- 
tradictory laws.4  When  their  negligence  could 
not  be  surprised,  their  avarice  might  be  bribed; 
justice  was  sold ; riches,  virtue,  eminence  of 
rank  or  abilities,  always  exposed  to  danger,  and 
often  ended  in  disgrace.5  For  those  needy 
Athenians,  who  formed  the  most  numerous  class 
in  the  republic,  endeavoured  to  alleviate  their 
misery  by  a very  criminal  consolation ; persecut- 
ing their  superiors,  banishing  them  their  coun- 
try, confiscating  their  estates,  and  treating  them 
on  the  slightest  provocation,  and  often  without 
any  provocation  at  all,  with  the  utmost  injus- 
tice and  cruelty.6  Though  occasionally  direct- 
ed by  the  equity  of  an  Aristides,  or  the  mag- 
nanimity of  a Cimon,  they,  for  the  most  part, 
listened  to  men  of  an  opposite  character.  He 
who  could  best  flatter  and  deceive  them  obtain- 
ed most  of  their  confidence.  With  such  quali- 
fications, the  turbulent,  licentious,  and  disso- 
lute, in  a word,  the  orator  who  most  resembled 
his  audience,  commonly  prevailed  in  the  as- 
sembly ; and  specious  or  hurtful  talents  carried 
off  the  rewards  due  to  real  merit.  Isocrates7 
assures  us  of  the  fact ; and  Xenophon8  affirms, 
that  it  is  perfectly  conformable  to  the  nature 
and  principles  of  the  Athenian  form  of  govern- 
ment. 

With  such  principles  and  manners,  the  Athe- 
nians required  only  a daring  and  profligate 


1 See  the  Discourse  of  Lysias  upon  a proposal  for  dis- 
solving the  ancient  government  of  Athens.  Lysias’s  ora- 
tions were  chiefly  written  in  the  space  of  twenty  years,  be- 
tween 404  and  384  before  Christ.  They  afford  a uniform 
picture  of  the  poverty,  misery,  and  vices  of  his  contempora- 
ries ; which  the  reader  will  find  abridged  in  the  introduction 
to  my  translation  of  that  writer.  The  Athenian  affairs  be- 
came more  flourishing  after  the  fall  of  Thebes  and  Sparta. 
Their  resources  were  again  exhausted  by  the  war  with  their 
allies.  The  revenues  were  greatly  raised  by  the  conquests 
of  Timotheus,  Phocion,  &c.  and  the  good  management  of 
Lycurgus  and  Demosthenes.  Plut.  in  Lycurg.  in  lib.  de 
Dec.  Orator. 

2 Isocrates  on  reforming  the  government  of  Athens. 

3 Isocrat.  et  Xenoph.  de  Repub.  Athen. 

4 Life  of  Lysias,  prefixed  to  his  Orations,  p.  116. 

5 See  Lysias’s  pleadings  throughout. 

6 Isocrates  de  Pace ; and  the  numerous  examples  of  that 
kind,  which  have  already  occurred  in  this  history. 

7 In  his  oration  on  reforming  the  government  of  Athens. 

8 In  his  treatise  de  Republic.  Athen. 


[Chap. 

leader,  to  involve  them  in  designs  the  most  ex- 
travagant and  pernicious.  Such  a personage 
presented  himself  in  Chares,  whose  soldier-like 
appearance,  blunt  address,  and  bold  impetuous 
valour,  masked  his  selfish  ambition,  and  render- 
ed him  the  idol  of  the  populace.  His  person 
was  gigantic  and  robust,  his  voice  commanding, 
his  manners  haughty;  he  asserted  positively, 
and  promised  boldly;  and  his  presumption  was 
so  excessive,  that  it  concealed  his  incapacity  not 
only  from  others,  but  from  himself.  Though 
an  enterprising  and  successful  partisan,  he  was 
unacquainted  with  the  great  duties  of  a general ; 
and  his  defects  appear  the  more  striking  and 
palpable,  when  compared  with  the  abilities  of 
Iphicrates  and  Timotheus,  his  contemporaries, 
who  prevailed  as  often  by  address  as  by  force, 
and  whose  conquests  were  secured  to  the  re- 
public by  the  moderation,  justice,  and  humanity, 
with  which  they  had  been  obtained,  and  with 
which  they  continued  to  be  governed.  Chares 
proposed  a very  different  mode  of  administra- 
tion ; he  exhorted  his  countrymen  to  supply  the 
defects  of  their  treasury,  and  to  acquire  the 
materials  of  those  pleasures  which  they  regard- 
ed as  essential  to  their  happiness,  by  plundering 
the  wealth  of  their  allies  and  colonies.  This 
counsel  was  too  faithfully  obeyed ; the  vexations, 
anciently  exercised  against  the  tributary  and 
dependent  states,  were  renewed  and  exceeded.^ 
The  weaker  communities  complained,  and  re- 
monstrated, against  this  intolerable  rapacity  and 
oppression;  while  the  islands  of  Chios,  Coos^ 
Rhodes,  as  well  as  the  city  of  Byzantium,  pre- 
pared openly  to  revolt,  and  engaged  with  each 
other  to  repel  force  by  force,  until  they  should 
obtain  peace  and  independence.10 
p..  Chares,  probably  the  chief  in- 

***  strpment,  as  well  as  the  adviser,  of 
the  arbitrary  measures  which  had 
° ' occasioned  the  revolt,  was  sent  out 
with  a powerful  fleet  and  army,  to  quash  at 
once  the  hopes  of  the  insurgents.  He  sailed 
towards  Chios,  with  an  intention  to  seize  the 
capital  of  that  island,  which  was  supposed  to 
be  the  centre  and  prime  mover  of  rebellion. 
The  confederates,  informed  of  his  motions,  had 
already  drawn  thither  the  greatest  part  of  their 
force.  The  city  of  Chios  was  besieged  by  sea 
and  land.  The  islanders  defended  themselves 
with  vigour.  Chares  found  it  difficult  to  re- 
pulse their  sallies.  His  fleet  attempted  to  enter 
their  harbour  without  success;  the  ship  of 
Chabrias  alone  penetrated  thus  far;  and  that 
able  commander,  whose  valour  and  integrity 
merited  a better  fortune,  though  deserted  by  the 
fleet,  yet  forsook  not  the  ship  entrusted  to  him 
by  the  republic.  His  companions  threw  away 
their  shields,  and  saved  themselves  by  swim- 
ming to  the  Athenian  squadron,  which  was  still 
within  their  reach.  But  Chabrias,  fighting 
bravely,  fell  by  the  darts  of  the  Chians,  prefer- 
ring an  honourable  death  to  a disgraceful  life.11 

Encouraged  by  advantages  over  an  enemy 
wTho  had  at  first  affected  to  despise  them,  the 
insurgents  augmented  their  fleet,  and  ravaged 
the  isles  of  Lemnos  and  Samos.  The  Atheni- 


9 Diodor.  I.  xvi.  ct  Isocrat.  de  Pace.  f 

10  Diodor.  1.  xvi.  pp.  413.  423. 

11  Nepos.  in  Chabr.  et  Diodor.  I.  xvi.  p.  423.  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


355 


XXXII. 


ans,  indignant  that  the  territories  of  their  faith- 
ful allies  should  fall  a prey  to  the  depredations 
of  rebels,  fitted  out,  early  in  the  next  year,  a 
new  armament  under  the  command  of  Mnes- 
theus,  the  son  of  Iphicrates,  and  son-in-law  of 
Timotheus,  expecting  that  the  new  commander 
would  respectfully  listen  to  the  advice  of  those 
great  men,  who  perhaps  declined  acting  as 
principals  in  an  expedition  where  Chares  pos- 
sessed any  share  of  authority.  That  general 
had  raised  the  siege  of  Chios,  and  now  cruised 
in  the  Hellespont;  where,  being  joined  by 
Mnestheus,  the  united  squadrons  amounted  to  a 
hundred  and  twenty  sail.  It  was  immediately 
determined  to  cause  a diversion  of  the  enemy’s 
forces  from  Samos  and  Lemnos,  by  laying  siege 
to  Byzantium.  The  design  succeeded;  the  al- 
lies withdrew  from  these  islands,  collected  their 
whole  naval  strength,  and  prepared  vigorously 
for  defending  the  principal  city  in  their  confed- 
eracy. 

The  hostile  armaments  approach  each  other, 
with  a resolution  to  join  battle,  when  a sudden 
and  violent  storm  arose,  which  rendered  it  im- 
possible for  the  Athenians  to  bear  up  to  the 
enemy,  or  even  to  keep  the  sea,  without  being 
exposed  to  shipwreck.  Chared  alone  confident- 
ly insisted  on  commencing  the  attack,  while  the 
other  commanders,  more  cautious  and  experi- 
enced, perceived  the  disadvantage,  and  declined 
the  unequal  danger.12  His  impetuosity,  thus 
overruled  by  the  prudence  of  his  colleagues, 
was  converted  into  resentment  and  fury;  he 
called  the  soldiers  and  sailors  to  witness  their 
opposition,  which  he  branded  with  every  odious 
epithet  of  reproach  ; and,  with  the  first  oppor- 
tunity, despatched  proper  messengers  to  Athens, 
to  accuse  them  of  incapacity,  cowardice,  and 
total  neglect  of  duty.  The  accusation  was  sup- 
ported by  venal  orators  in  the  pay  of  Chares. 

Timotheus  and  Iphicrates  were  tried  capitally. 
The  former  trusted  to  his  innocence  and  elo- 
quence ; the  latter  used  a very  extraordinary 
expedient  to  sway  the  judges,  conformable, 
however,  to  the  spirit  of  that  age,  when  courts 
of  justice  were  frequently  instruments  of  op- 
pression, governed  by  every  species  of  undue 
influence,  easily  corrupted  and  easily  intimida- 
ted. The  targeteers,  or  light  infantry,  who  had 
been  armed,  disciplined,  and  long  commanded, 
oy  Iphicrates,  enjoyed  the  same  reputation  in 
Greece,  which  the  Fabian  soldiers  afterwards 
did  in  Italy.  They  were  called  the  Iphicraten- 
sian  troops,  from  the  name  of  their  commander, 
to  whom  they  owed  their  merit  and  their  fame, 
and  to  whose  person  (notwithstanding  the  strict- 
ness of  his  discipline)  they  were  strongly  at- 
tached by  the  ties  of  gratitude  and  esteem.  The 
youngest  and  bravest  of  this  celebrated  band 
readily  obeyed  the  injunctions  of  their  admired 
general ; surrounded,  on  the  day  of  trial,  the 
benches  of  the  magistrates  ; and  took  care  sea- 
sonably to  display  the  points  of  their  daggers.13 


12  We  are  not  informed  by  Diodorus  or  Nepos,  why  the 
disadvantage  and  danger  were  on  the  side  of  the  Athenians; 
probably,  being  better  sailors,  they  expected  to  profit  of 
their  skill  in  manoeuvre , which  the  storm  rendered  useless 
and  unavailing. 

13  It  was  probably  during  this  trial,  that  Iphicrates  being 
reproached  with  betraying  the  interests  of  his  country,  asked 
his  accuser,  “ Would  you,  on  a like  occasion,  have  been 


It  was  the  law  of  Athens,  that,  after  prelimi- 
naries had  been  adjusted,  and  the  judges  assem- 
bled, the  parties  should  be  heard,  and  the  trial 
begun  and  ended  on  the  same  day;  nor  could 
any  person  be  twice  tried  for  the  same  offence. 
The  rapidity  of  this  mode  of  procedure  favour- 
ed the  views  of  Iphicrates.  The  magistrates 
were  overawed  by  the  imminence  of  a danger, 
which  they  had  neither  strength  to  resist  nor 
time  to  elude.  They  were  compelled  to  an  im- 
mediate decision;  but, instead  of  the  sentence 
of  death,  which  was  expected,  they  imposed  a 
fine14  on  the  delinquents,  which  no  Athenian 
citizen  in  that  age  was  in  a condition  to  pay. 
This  severity  drove  into  banishment  those  able 
and  illustrious  commanders.  Timotheus  sailed 
to  Chalcis  in  Euboea,  and  afterwards  to  the  isle 
of  Lesbos,  both  which  places  his  valour  and 
abilities  had  recovered  for  tfye  republic,  and 
which,  being  chosen  as  his  residence  in  disgrace, 
sufficiently  evince  the  mildness  of  his  govern- 
ment, and  his  moderation  in  prosperity.  Iphi- 
crates travelled  into  Thrace,  where  he  had  long 
resided.  He  had  formerly  married  the  daugh- 
ter of  Cotys,  the  most  considerable  of  the 
Thracian  princes  ; yet  he  dived  and  died  in  ob- 
scurity;15 nor  did  either  he  or  Timotheus  thence- 
forth take  any  share  in  the  affairs  of  their  un- 
grateful country.16  Thus  did  the  social  war  de- 
stroy or  remove  Iphicrates,  Chabrias,  and  Timo- 
theus, the  best  generals  whom  Greece  could 
boast;  and,  the  brave  and  honest  Phocion  ex- 
cepted, the  last  venerable  remains  of  Athenian 
virtue.17 

Ql  By  the  removal  of  those  great 

^ men,  Chares  was  left  to  conduct, 

A C qc;7  uncontrolled,  the  war  against  the 
allies;  and  to  display  the  full  ex- 
tent of  his  worthlessness  and  incapacity.  His 
insatiable  avarice  rendered  him  intolerable  to 
the  friends  of  Athens;  his  weakness  and  negli- 
gence exposed  him  to  the  contempt  of  the  insur- 
gents. He  indulged  his  officers  and  himself  in 
a total  neglect  of  discipline ; the  reduction  of 
the  rebels  was  the  least  matter  of  his  concern ; 
he  was  attended  by  an  effeminate  crowd  of 
singers,  dancers,  and  harlots,^  whose  luxury 
exhausted  the  scanty  supplies  raised  by  the 
Athenians  for  the  service  of  the  war.19  In  or- 
der to  satisfy  the  clamorous  demands  of  the 
soldiers,  Chares,  regardless  of  the  treaties  sub- 
sisting between  Athens  and  Persia,  hired  him- 
self and  his  forces  to  Artabazus,  the  wealthy 
satrap  of  Ionia,  who  had  revolted  from  his  mas- 
ter Artaxerxes  Ochus,  the  most  cruel  and  de- 


guilty  of  that  crime?”  “By  no  moans,”  replied  the  other. 
“ And  can  you  then  imagine,”  replied  the  hero,  “ that  Iphi- 
crates should  be  guilty?”  Quintilian  1.  v.  c.  xii. 

14  One  hundred  talents,  about  twenty  thousand  pounds. 

15  Diodorus  only  says,  that  ho  was  dead  before  the  battle 
of  Cha?ronaea,  which  happened  twenty  years  after  his  ba- 
nishment. 

16  Nepos  says,  that  after  the  death  of  Timotheus,  the 
Athenians  remitted  nine  parts  of  his  fine;  but  obliged  his 
son  Conon  to  pay  the  remaining  tenth,  for  repairing  the 
walls  of  the  Piraeus,  which  his  grandfather  had  rebuilt  from 
the  spoils  of  the  enemy. 

17  .Military  virtue.  Haec  extrema  fuit  a>tas  imperatorum 
Alheniensium,  Iphicrates,  Chabrias,  Timotheus;  neque 
post  illorum  obitmn  quisquam  dux  in  ilia  urbe  fuit  dignus 
memoria.  Nepos  in  Timoth.  The  biographer  forgets  Pho- 
cion. 

18  Athenanus,  1.  xii.  p.  534. 

19  Demosthcn.  Philipp.  1. 


356 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


testable  tyrant  that  ever  disgraced  the  throne 
of  Cyrus.  The  arms  of  the  Greeks  saved  Ar- 
tabazus  from  the  implacable  resentment  of  a 
monster  incapable  to  pity  or  forgive;  and  their 
meritorious  services  were  amply  rewarded  by 
the  lavish  gratitude  of  the  satrap. 

This  transaction,  how  extraordi- 

7“P*  nary  soever  it  may  appear  to  the 
^V1*  modern  reader,  neither  surprised  nor 

. L/.  J5o.  displeased  the  Athenians.  They 
were  accustomed  to  allow  their  commanders  in 
foreign  parts  to  act  without  instructions  or  con- 
trol ; and  the  creatures  of  Chares  loudly  extol- 
led his  good  management  in  paying  the  Grecian 
troops  with  Persian  money.  But  the  triumph 
of  false  joy  was  of  short  duration.  Ochus  sent 
an  embassy  to  remonstrate  with  the  Athenians 
on  their  unprovoked  infraction  of  the  peace ; 
and  threatened,  that  unless  they  immediately 
withdrew  their  forces  from  Asia,  he  would  as- 
sist the  rebels  with  a fleet  of  three  hundred  sail. 
This  just  menace,  want  of  success  against  the 
confederates,  together  with  a reason  still  more 
important,  which  will  soon  come  to  be  fully  ex- 
plained, obliged  the  Athenians  to  recall  their 
armament  from  the  east,  and  to  terminate  the 
social  war,  without  obtaining  any  of  the  pur- 
poses for  which  it  had  been  undertaken.  The 
confederates  made  good  the  claims  which  their 
boldness  had  urged ; regained  complete  freedom 
and  independence and  lived  twenty  years  ex- 
empt from  the  legal  oppression  of  subsidies  and 
contingents,  till  they  submitted,  with  the  rest 
of  Greece,  to  the  arms  and  intrigues  of  Philip, 
and  the  irresistible  fortune  of  the  Macedonians. 

Notwithstanding  the  decay  of  martial  spirit, 
the  extravagance  of  public  councils,  and  the 
general  corruption  of  manners,  which  prevailed 
in  Athens,  and  in  other  cities  of  Greece,  the 
arts  and  sciences  were  still  cultivated  with  ar- 
dour and  success.  During  the  period  now  un- 
der review,  the  scholars  of  Hippocrates  and 
Democritus  enriched  natural  philosophy  with 
many  important  discoveries.* 2  The  different 
branches  of  mathematics,  mechanics,  and  as- 
tronomy, received  great  improvements  from 
Eudoxus3  of  Cnidus,  Timaeus4  of  Locri,  Ar- 
chytas  of  Tarentum,  and  Meton  of  Athens.5 
The  Megaric  school  flourished  under  Stilpo, 
the  most  learned  and  acute  of  that  disputatious 
sect,  which,  from  its  continual  wranglings, 
merited  the  epithet  of  contentious.6  The  doc- 
trines of  Aristippus  were  maintained  by  his 
daughter  Aret6,  and  improved  by  Hegesias  and 
Anneceris,  who  paved  the  way  for  Epicurus.7 
The  severe  philosophy  of  Antisthenes  had 
fewer  followers.8 9 *  But  Diogenes  alone  was  equal 
to  a sect.9 

Statuary  was  cultivated  by  Polycletus  and 
Canachus  of  Sicyon,  by  Naucydes  of  Argos, 
and  by  innumerable  artists  in  other  cities  of 
Greece,  Italy,  and  Ionia.  The  works  of  Po- 


1 Diodor.  p.  424. 

2 Galenas  de  Natur.  Facultat.  ctHippocraL  IT*§i 

&C. 

3 Laert.  1.  viii.  sect.  86.  ct  Suid.  in  Eudox. 

4 Jambl.  de  Pythagor.  5 Censonn.  de  Die  natal. 

6 Ef  Krr.iu).  Laert.  1.  vi.  sect.  107. 

7 Laertius  et  Suidas. 

8 iElian.  Var.  Histor.  1.  x.  c.  xvi.* 

9 We  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  more  fully  of  Dio- 

genes hereafter. 


lycletus  were  the  most  admired.  His  greatest 
work  was  the  colossal  statue  of  Argive  Juno, 
composed  of  gold  and  ivory.  Bronze  and  mar- 
ble, however,  still  furnished  the  usual  mate- 
rials for  sculpture.  The  Grecian  temples,  par- 
ticularly those  of  Delphi  and  Olympia,  were 
enriched  with  innumerable  productions  of  this 
kind,  during  the  period  to  which  our  present 
observations  relate.  One  figure  of  Polycletus 
acquired  peculiar  fame.  From  the  exactness 
of  the  proportions,16  it  was  called  the  rule,  or 
standard.  Even  Lysippus,  the  contemporary 
and  favourite  of  Alexander,  regarded  it  as  a 
model  of  excellence,  from  which  it  was  impru- 
dent to  depart. 

q.  Between  Polycletus  and  Lysip- 

P*  pus  flourished  Praxiteles,  whose 
A * C 460  wor^s  f°rme(i  the  intermediate 
’ * ‘ shade  between  the  sublime  style, 

which  prevailed  in  the  age  of  Pericles,  and  the 
beautiful,  which  attained  perfection  under  Ly- 
sippus and  Apelles,  in  the  age  of  Alexander. 
The  statues  of  Praxiteles  bore  a similar  rela- 
tion to  those  of  Phidias,  which  the  paintings 
of  Guido  and  Correggio  bear  to  those  of  Julie 
Romano  and  Raphael.  The  works  of  the 
earlier  artists  are  more  grand  and  more  sub- 
lime, those  of  the  later  more  graceful  and  more 
alluring ; the  first  class  being  addressed  to  the 
imagination,  the  second  to  the  senses.  The 
works  of  Praxiteles  were  in  the  Ceramicus  of 
Athens ; but  neither  in  the  Ceramicus,  nor 
in  any  part  of  the  world,  wTas  a statue  to  be 
seen  equal  to  his  celebrated  Venus,  which  long 
attracted  spectators  from  all  parts  to  Cnidus. 
Praxiteles  made  two  statues  of  the  goddess  at 
the  same  time,  the  one  clothed,  the  other  naked. 
The  decent  modesty  of  the  Coans  preferred  the 
former ; the  latter  was  purchased  by  the  Cni- 
dians,  and  long  regarded  as  the  most  valuable 
possession  of  their  community.  The  voluptu- 
ous Nicomedes,  king  of  Bithynia,  languished 
after  this  statue ; to  purchase  such  unrivalled 
charms,  he  offered  to  pay  the  debts  of  Cnidus, 
which  were  immense ; but  the  Cnidians  deter- 
mined not  to  part  with  an  ornament  from  which 
their  republic  derived  so  much  celebrity.  “Hav- 
ing considered,”  says  an  ancient  author,11  “ the 
beautiful  avenues  leading  to  the  temple,  we  at 
length  entered  the  sacred  dome.  In  the  middle 
stands  the  statue  of  the  goddess,  in  marble  of 
Paros.  A sweet  smile  sits  on  "her  lips  ; no  gar- 
ment hides  her  charms ; the  hand  only,  as  by 
an  instinctive  impulse,  conceals  those  parts 
which  modesty  permits  not  to  name.  The  art 
of  Praxiteles  has  given  to  the  stone  the  soft- 
ness and  sensibility  of  flesh.  O Mars,  the  most 
fortunate  of  the  gods !”  But  it  is  impossible  to 
translate  his  too  faithful  description  into  tho 


10  Winckelmann,  p.  653.  and  his  translator  Mr.  Huber, 
vol.  iii.  p.  34.  differ  from  Pliny,  1.  35.  c.  19.  They  confound 
the  statue,  called  the  Rule,  or  Canon,  with  another  called 
the  Dorvphorus,  because  grasping  a spear.  Pliny’s  words 
are,  “ Polycletus  Sicyonius  Diadumenum  fecit  molliter  ju- 
venem,  centum  talentis  nobilitatum ; idem  et  Doryphorum 
viriliter  puerum.  Fecit  et  quern  canona  artifices  vocant, 
lineamenta  artis  ex  eo  petentes,  velut  a lege  quadam  ; so- 
lusque  hominum  artem  ipse  (forte  ipsam)  fecisse,  artis  opere 
judicatur.”  They  have  followed  Cicero  de  Clar.  Orator, 
c.  86. — yet  Cicero,  speaking  incidentally  on  the  subject, 
might  more  naturally  mistake  than  Pliny,  writing  expressly 
on  sculpture. 

11  Lucian.  Amor. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


357 


XXXI I.] 

decency  of  modern  language ; a description 
more  animated  and  voluptuous  than  even  the 
chisel  of  Praxiteles. 

The  honour  which  Polycletus  and  Praxiteles 
acquired  in  sculpture,  was,  during  the  same  age, 
attained  in  painting  by  Eupompus  and  Pam- 
philus  of  Sicyon,  by  Euphranor  of  Corinth, 
by  Apollodorus  and  Nicias  of  Athens  ; above 
all  by  Xeuxis  and  Timanthes.12  The  works  of 
Eupompus  are  now  unknown,  but  in  his  own 
times  his  merit  and  celebrity  occasioned  a new 
division  of  the  schools,  which  were  formerly 
the  Grecian  and  the  Asiatic ; but  after  Eupom- 
pus, the  Grecian  school  was  subdivided  into  the 
Athenian  and  Sicyonian.  Pamphilus,  and  his 
scholar  Apelles,  gave  fresh  lustre  to  the  latter 
school,  which  seems  to  have  flourished  longer 
than  any  other  in  Greece,  since  the  paintings 
exhibited  at  the  celebrated  procession  of  Pto- 
lemy Philadelphus  were  all  the  productions  of 
Sicyonian  masters.13 

Few  works  of  Pamphilus  are  described  by 
ancient  authors.  His  picture  of  the  Heraclidae, 
carrying  branches  of  olive,  and  imploring  the 
assistance  of  the  Athenians,  has  not,  however, 
escaped  the  vigilant  eye  of  national  vanity.14 
He  was  by  birth  a Macedonian,  but  well  versed 
in  literature  and  science,  which  he  thought  in- 
dispensably necessary  to  a painter.  He  re- 
ceived about  two  hundred  pounds  from  each 
of  his  scholars,  and  seems  to  have  been  the  first 
who  put  a high  price  on  his  works.  He  lived 
to  enjoy  his  fame,  and  rendered  his  profession 
so  fashionable,  that  it  became  customary  in 
Sicyon,  and  afterwards  in  other  parts  of  Greece, 
to  instruct  the  sons  of  wealthy  families  in  the 
arts  of  design.  This  liberal  profession  was 
forbidden  to  slaves ; nor,  during  the  existence 
of  Grecian  freedom,  did  any  celebrated  pro- 
duction in  sculpture  or  painting  come  from  ser- 
vile hands.15 

Euphranor,  the  Corinthian,  excelled  both  in 
painting  and  statuary.  The  dignity  of  his  he- 
roes was  admired.  He  painted  the  twelve 
gods.  He  said  that  his  Theseus  had  fed  on 
flesh,  that  of  Parrhasius  on  roses.  He  wrote 
on  colours  and  symmetry.  Apollodorus  the 
Athenian  was  deemed  the  first  who  knew  the 
force  of  light  and  shade.16  His  priest  in  prayer, 


12  Pliny,  in  his  35th  book.  I have  paid  little  attention 
to  his  pretended  Epochs  of  Art,  when  inconsistent  with  the 
information  of  more  ancient  authors.  The  Greek  histo- 
rians, from  whom  he  copied  this  part  of  his  work,  found  it 
convenient,  at  every  pause  in  their  narrative,  to  give  some 
account  of  men  who  had  distinguished  themselves  in  the 
arte  and  sciences,  of  whom  they  had  no  opportunity  to 
make  mention  in  relating  public  transactions,  and  describ- 
ing wars  and  negotiations.  The  era  of  every  peace  fur- 
nished a proper  resting  place  to  the  historian  ; from  which 
he  looked  back,  and  collected  the  names  worthy  to  be 
handed  down  to  posterity.  Every  such  era,  therefore, 
Pliny,  and  after  him  Winckelmann,  have  considered  as  an 
epoch  of  art;  not  reflecting,  that  arts  do  not  suddenly  arise 
and  flourish,  and  when  once  they  flourish,  do  not  suddenly 
decay ; since  the  mind  long  retains  the  impulse  which  it 
has  received ; and  the  active  powers  of  man,  when  once 
directed  to  their  proper  objects,  are  not  easily  lulled  to  re- 
pose. 

13  Athen.  Deipn.  1.  v.  p.  196. 

14  Aristoph.  Plut.  v.  385. 

15  Plin.  1.  xxxv.  c.  xxxvi.  sect.  8. 

16  This  is  the  commendation  of  Plutarch.  Pliny  speaks 
more  highly  of  Apollodorus.  “ Festinas  ad  lumina  artis, 
in  quibus  primus  refulsit  Apollodorus  AlheniensiB  . . . 
neque  ante  eum  tabula  ullius  ostenditur,  quae  teneat  oculos.” 
Pliny’s  praises  often  clash  with  each  other.  He  frequently 


and  his  Ajax  struck  with  lightning,  were  held 
in  high  estimation.  Nicias,  his  fellow-citizen, 
excelled  in  female  figures,  and  in  all  the  magic 
of  colouring.  His  Calypso,  16,  and  Andro- 
meda, claimed  just  fame  ; but  his  greatest  com- 
position was  the  Necromanteia  of  Homer.17 
Attalus  king  of  Pergamus  (for  Nicias  lived  to 
a great  age)  offered  twelve  thousand  pounds 
for  this  picture  ; but  the  artist,  who  was  ex- 
tremely wealthy,  gave  it  in  a present  to  his  na- 
tive country.  Praxiteles,  when  asked  which 
of  his  statues  he  most  valued,  answered, 
“ Those  of  which  the  models  were  retouched 
by  Nicias.” 

Zeuxis  is  said  to  have  been  born  at  Heraclea, 
but  it  is  uncertain  in  which  of  the  cities  known 
by  that  name.  He  acquired  great  wealth  by 
his  works ; at  length  he  refused  money,  boast- 
ing that  no  price  could  pay  them.  The  mo- 
desty of  his  Penelope  was  equal  to  a lesson  of 
morality.  He  painted  Hercules  strangling  the 
serpents  in  the  presence  of  the  astonished  Am- 
phitryon and  Alcmena.  His  picture  dedicated 
in  the  temple  of  Juno  Lucina,  at  Agrigentem, 
has  been  often  mentioned.  Being  allowed  to 
view  the  naked  beauty  of  that  populous  city, 
it  is  known  that  he  chose  as  models  five  vir- 
gins, whose  united  charms  were  expressed  in 
this  celebrated  piece.  His  gteatest  work  was 
Jupiter  sitting  on  his  throne,  and  surrounded 
by  the  gods.16 


calls  different  persons  the  first  in  the  art,  and  even  in  the 
same  branch  of  it.  The  warmth  of  his  fancy  leaves  him 
no  time  for  calculating  the  weight  of  his  expressions.  His 
credulity,  love  of  wonder,  and  inaccuracy,  cannot  be  de- 
fended. Yet  his  judgments  on  pictures  and  statues  are  not 
without  their  merit;  since  the  perfection  of  those  works  of 
art  consists  in  making  a deep  impression,  in  transporting 
and  elevating  the  affections,  and  in  raising  that  glow  of 
sentiment,  which  Pliny  is  so  happy  in  communicating  to 
his  readers. 

17  Long  before  all  the  celebrated  works  of  art,  Homer 
had  viewed  nature  with  a picturesque  eye.  For  the  innu- 
merable pictures  copied  from  him,  see  Fabricii  Biblioth. 
Graec.  1.  ii.  c.  vi.  p.  345.  Homer  gave  the  idea  of  what  is 
grand  and  pathetic  in  intellect,  which  painters  and  statua- 
ries translated  into  what  is  touching  and  awful  to  the  eye. 

18  Valerius  Maximus,  1.  iii.  c.  vii.  speaks  of  his  Helena 
painted  for  the  city  of  Crotona.  On  his  naked  Helen  Zeuxis 
inscribed  the  following  lines  of  Homer: 

Ov  vc/l tetri?,  Tfuxg  xxi  svxvtt, ui&xi;  A%*»ouj 
Toiqf  xjuqii  yvvx ix»  jroXuv  xgovov  xkyix  5raeir%s  iv* 

Aivulf  xSxvXTt]Tt  -S'EBS  SIS  M7TX  60IKIV.  II.  iii.  V.  156 

“They  cried,  No  wonder  such  celestial  charms 
For  nine  long  years  have  set  the  world  in  arms  : 

What  winning  graces ! what  majestic  mien  ! 

She  moves  a goddess,  and  she  looks  a queen.”  Pope. 
Pope  has  paraphrased  the  last  line,  “ For  she  is  wonder- 
fully like  to  the  immortal  gods.”  This  must  have  sounded 
nobly  to  the  Greeks,  who  would  doubtless  have  considered 
“ looking  a queen,”  as  a sinking  in  poetry.  But  I have 
cited  the  lines,  to  show  by  what  different  moans  poetry  and 
painting  attain  the  same  end.  Both  Homer  and  Zeuxis 
convey  an  high  idea  of  Helen’s  beauty  ; but  Homer  does 
it  by  Ihe  effects  of  this  beauty,  which  could  animate  the 
cold  age  of  Priam,  Panthoos,  &c.  whom  he  has  just  inimi- 
tably described : 

Tiffi**  $1  yroKtfioto  Tren-xv/uivot,  ee\X’  xyoeiTxi 
Eo-Sxoi,  TtTTtyiTTtV  80IX0TIJ  OITI  X«fi’  UXl)V 
Aivlffiu  tQt'^ofttvot  o ttx  r<rxv  inn. 

When  the  Greek  monk,  Constantinus  Manasses  (Chron. 
p.  20.)  describes  the  beauty  of  Helen, 

Hv  s yvv s jrs^ixaXM?,  outtmts, 

Eurra^no;,  iu3r§o<rw?ro j,  /Sogdjti;,  %»oi/o%£0 v{* 

and  so  on,  through  a dozen  of  lines,  the  imagination  of  the 
reader  cannot  follow  him ; each  epithet  of  beauty  drives 
the  preceding  from  the  memory  ; and  wo  fancy  that  we  see 
a man  laboriously  rolling  stones  up  one  side  of  a hill,  which 


358 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Timanthes  reached  the  highest  perfection  of 
his  art;  but  his  genius  surpassed  the  art  itself. 
In  his  sacrifice  of  Iphigenia,  a gradation  of  sor- 
row was  seen  in  the  faces  of  the  spectators.  It 
was  carried  to  the  utmost  height,  consistent  with 
beauty,  in  the  countenance  of  her  uncle  Mene- 
laus.  But  Agamemnon,  who  was  still  more 
deeply  afflicted  with  the  unhappy  fate  of  his 
daughter,  veiled  his  face  with  his  robe.  In 
several  others  of  his  pieces,  Timanthes  disco- 
vered the  power  of  transporting  the  mind  be- 
yond the  picture.  He  painted  to  the  fancy 
rather  than  to  the  eye.  In  his  works,  as  in  the 
description  of  Homer  and  Milton,  more  was 
understood  than  expressed. 

The  power  of  expression  was  carried  to  a 
degree  of  perfection  which  it  is  not  easy  to  be- 
lieve, and  scarcely  possible  to  comprehend. 
The  civil  and  military  arrangements  of  the 
Greeks  gave,  doubtless,  great  advantages  to 
their  artists  in  this  respect.  Aristides,  a The- 
ban painter,  represented  the  sacking  of  a town ; 
among  other  scenes  of  horror,  a child  was  paint- 
ed clinging  to  the  breast  of  its  wounded  mother, 
who  “felt  and  feared,* 1  that  after  she  was  dead, 
the  child  should  suck  blood  instead  of  milk.” 
Parrhasius  of  Ephesus,  in  an  earlier  age,  per- 
sonified the  people  of  Athens,  in  a figure  that 
characterised  them  as  at  once  cruel  and  com- 
passionate, proud  and  humble,  brave  and  cow- 
ardly, elevated  and  mean.  Such  discrimina- 
tions, as  well  as  such  complications  of  passion, 
are  unquestionably  beyond  the  reach  of  modern 
art,  and  will  therefore,  by  many,  be  pronounced 
impossible.  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  the 
same  Parrhasius,  who  seems  to  have  united  the 
excellences  of  Dominichino,  Raphael,  and  Cor- 
reggio, was  distinguished  by  the  gliding  motion 
of  his  outline,  and  the  sweetness  with  which  it 
melted  into  the  ground.2 

Ideal  beauty,  just  proportion,  natural  and 
noble  attitudes,  a uniform  greatness  of  style, 
are  acknowledged  to  have  equally  belonged  to 
the  ancient  painters  and  statuaries.  But  the 
vanity  or  envy  of  modern  times  is  unwilling  to 
allow  any  merit  to  the  former,  which  the  re- 
mains of  the  latter  do  not  justify  and  confirm. 
The  Greek  painters,  therefore,  have  been  sup- 
posed deficient  in  colouring;  and  this  supposi- 
tion has  been  supported  by  the  words  of  Pliny : 


immediately  roll  down  the  other.  Ariosto’s  description  of 
the  beauty  of  Alcina  (cant,  viii.)  is  in  the  same  bad  taste. 
How  different  is  Virgil’s  “ Pulcherrima  Dido.”  Virgil 
knew  the  difference  between  poetical  and  picturesque  im- 
ages. Our  English  romances  abound  with  examples  of  this 
species  of  bad  taste,  arising  from  mistaking  the  boundaries 
of  distinct,  though  kindred  arts.  See  above,  p.  180. 

1 These  are  the  words  of  Pliny. 

2 Pliny  considers  this  as  the  perfection  of  art.  “ Haec  est 
in  pictura  summa  sublimitas.  Corpora  enim  pingere  et 
media  rerum,  est  quidem  magni  operis ; sed  in  quo  multi 
gloriam  tulerint.  Extrema  corporum  facere,  et  desinentis 
pictur®  modum  includere,  rarum  in  successu  artis  invenitur. 
Ambire  enim  debet  se  extremitas  ipsa,  et  sic  desinere,  ut 
promittat  alia  post  se ; ostentatque  etiam  qua;  occultat.” 
Ibid.  c.  xxxvi.  sect.  5.  Mr.  Falconer,  in  his  observations 
on  this  passage,  is  of  a different  opinion.  He  thinks  it 
more  difficult  to  paint  the  middle  parts,  than  the  shades  and 
tones  which  round  the  extremities  of  objects;  because  the 
former,  though  exposed  to  the  light,  must  have  their  form, 
relief,  depth,  and  all  the  tints  of  nature.  He  instances  the 
heads  painted  by  Rubens  and  Vandyck  6een  in  front. 

Pliny,  had  he  lived  in  latter  times,  might  have  instanced, 

in  his  turn,  the  sweet  outlines  and  inimitable  softness  of 

Correggio. 


[Chap. 

“With  four  colours  only,  Apelles,  Echion,  Me- 
lanthius,  and  Nicomachus  produced  those  im- 
mortal works  which  were  singly  purchased  by 
the  common  wealth  of  cities  and  republics.” 
The  colours  were  white,  red,  yellow,  and  black. 
It  has  been  often  said  that  with  these  only  on 
his  palette,  a painter  cannot  colour  like  nature, 
far  less  attain  the  magic  of  the  clair  obscure. 
Yet  a great  artist  of  our  own  country  thinks 
that  four  colours  are  sufficient  for  every  combi- 
nation required.  '“  The  fewer  the  colours,  the 
cleaner,  he  observes,  will  be  their  effect.  Two 
colours  mixed  together  will  not  preserve  the 
brightness  of  either  of  them  single,  nor  will 
three  be  as  bright  as  two.”3  Pliny  says,  that 
Apelles  spread  over  his  pictures,  when  finished, 
a transparent  liquid  like  ink,  which  increased 
the  clearness  and  brilliancy  of  the  whole,  while 
it  softened  the  glare  of  too  florid  colours.  This, 
according  to  the  same  excellent  painter,  is  a 
true  and  artist-like  description  of  scambling  or 
glazing,  as  practised  by  the  Venetian  school, 
and  by  Correggio,  in  whose  works,  as  well  as 
those  mentioned  by  Pliny,  it  was  perceptible 
only  to  such  as  closely  examined  the  picture. 
He  very  reasonably  concludes,  therefore,  that 
if  the  master-pieces  of  ancient  painting  re- 
mained, we  should  probably  find  them  as  cor- 
rectly drawn  as  the  Laocoon,  and  as  admirably 
coloured  as  the  glowing  productions  of  Titian. 

That  the  Greeks  were  acquainted  with  the 
effect  of  the  clair  obscure , or  the  distribution  of 
all  the  tones  of  light  and  shade  relatively  to 
the  different  plans  of  the  picture,  has  been  de- 
nied by  those  who  allow  them  the  highest  ex- 
cellence in  colouring  single  figures.  They  might 
excel,  it  has  been  said,  in  a solo,  but  were  inca- 
pable of  producing  a full  piece  for  a concert  of 
different  instruments.  Whether  this  observa- 
tion be  well  founded  can  only  be  discovered  by 
carefully  examining  ancient  authors, from  whom 
it  would  appear  that  even  in  this  branch  the 
Greek  painters  were  not  deficient.4 

Of  all  the  arts  cultivated  during  the  period 
now  under  review,  none  attained  higher  pro- 
ficiency than  composition  in  prose.  The  his- 
tory of  Thucydides  was  continued  by  Xeno- 
phon; but  we  should  form  a very  imperfect 
notion  of  this  amiable  writer  were  we  to  judge 
him  by  his  Grecian  history,  to  which  he  seems 
not  to  have  put  the  last  hand.  Yet  in  this,  as 
well  as  in  his  more  finished  works,  we  see  the 
scholar  of  Socrates;  and,  of  all  others,  the 
scholar  who  most  resembled  his  master  in  his 
sentiment  and  expression,5  in  the  excellences 


3 See  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds’  notes  on  Mr.  Mason’s  trans- 
lation of  Fresnoy’s  Art  of  Painting. 

4 In  speaking  of  Nicias,  Pliny  says,  “ Lumen  et  umbras 
custodivit,  atquc  ut  emineret  e tabulis  pictur®  maxime 
custodivit.”  Unless  the  clair  obscure  be  meant,  the  second 
member  of  this  sentence  is  a pleonasm.  Another  passage  is 
highly  to  the  purpose,  1.  xxxv.  c.  xi.  “ Tandem  se  ars  ipsa 
distinxit,  et  invenit  lumen  atque  umbras,  differentia  colo- 
rum  alterna  via  sese  excitante.  Deinde  adjectus  est  splen- 
dor, alius  hie  quam  lumen : quern,  quia  inter  hoc  et  um- 
brum  esset,  appellaverunt  tonon ; commissuras  verb  colo- 
rum  et  transitus,  harmogen.”  Clair  obscure  in  painting  is 
something  like  counterpoint  in  music;  and  if  the  ancients 
cultivated  neither  of  them,  perhaps  the  more  substantial 
parts  of  the  arts  lost  nothing  by  the  neglect.  In  melody 
and  design,  effect  and  expression,  they  probably  excelled 
the  most  boasted  productions  of  later  ages. 

3 See  the  description  which  Alcibiades  gives  of  Socrates’s 
eloquence,  in  Plato’s  Symposium 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


359 


XXXII.] 

as  well  as  in  the  respectable  weaknesses6  of  his 
character.  The  same  undeviating  virtue,  the 
same  indefatigable  spirit,  the  same  erect  probity, 
the  same  diffusive  benevolence,  the  same  cre- 
dulity, the  same  enthusiasm,  together  with  that 
unaffected  propriety  of  thought  and  diction, 
whose  native  graces  outshine  all  ornaments  of 
art. 

This  admirable  personage,  who,  had  he  lived 
before  the  Athenians  were  grown  too  conceited 
to  learn,  and  too  corrupt  to  mend,  might  have 
proved  the  saviour  of  his  country,  reached  his 
fiftieth  year  in  a happy  obscurity,  enjoying  the 
confidential  society  of  Socrates  and  a few  select 
friends.  Of  these  Proxenus,  an  illustrious  The- 
ban exile,  who  well  knew  the  worth  of  Xeno- 
phon, invited  him  to  Sardis,  from  a desire  to 
introduce  him  to  Cyrus,  the  brother  of  Arta- 
xerxes,  and  governor  of  Lower  Asia,  whose 
friendship  he  himself  had  found  more  valuable 
than  the  precarious  honours  of  his  capricious 
and  ungrateful  republic.  Xenophon  communi- 
cated the  proposal  to  Socrates,  who,  suspecting 
that  the  Athenians  might  not  relish  his  friend’s 
design,  because  the  Persians  were  then  allied 
with  Sparta,  desired  him  to  consult  the  oracle 
of  Delphi.7  This  counsel  was  but  partially  fol- 
lowed ; for  Xenophon,  who  seems  to  have  been 
fond  of  the  journey,  asked  not  the  oracle  whe- 
ther it  ought  to  be  undertaken,  but  only  by  vir- 
tue of  what  prayers  and  sacrifices  it  might  be 
rendered  successful.  Socrates  approved  not  this 
precipitation;  yet  as  the  god  had  answered,  he 
thought  it  necessary  for  Xenophon  to  obey. 
The  important  consequences  of  this  resolution 
to  the  Ten  Thousand  Greeks  who  followed  the 
standard  of  Cyrus,  have  been  related  in  a for- 
mer part  of  this  work.  After  his  glorious  retreat 
from  Upper  Asia,  Xenophon  remained  several 
years  on  the  western  coast,  and  shared  the  vic- 
tories of  his  admired  Agesilaus,  with  whom  he 
returned  to  Greece,  and  conquered  in  the  bat- 
tle of  Coronaea. 

Mean  while  a decree  of  banishment  passed 
against  him  in  Athens.  But  having  acquired 
considerable  riches  in  his  Asiatic  expedition,  he 
had  deposited  them  at  Ephesus  with  the  Sa- 
cristan of  Diana’s  temple,  with  this  injunction, 
that  if  he  perished  in  battle,  his  wealth  should 
be  employed  in  honour  of  the  goddess.  Having 
survived  the  bloody  engagement  of  Coronaea, 
which  he  afterwards  so  affectingly  described  in 
his  Hellenica,  he  settled  in  the  town  of  Scil- 
luns,  a new  establishment  formed  by  the  Lace- 
daemonians, scarce  three  miles  distant  from 
Olympia.  Megabyzus,  the  Sacrist  of  Diana, 
came  to  behold  the  games,  and  faithfully  re- 
stored his  deposit,  with  which  Xenophon,  as 
enjoined  by  an  oracle,  purchased  in  that  neigh- 
bourhood a beautiful  spot  of  ground,  watered 
by  the  Sellenus,  a name  which  coincided  with 
that  of  the  river  near  Ephesus.  On  the  banks 
of  Elian  Sellenus,  Xenophon  erected  a temple, 


6 It  is  remarkable  that  the  superstitious  belief  of  Xeno- 
phon in  celestial  warnings,  of  which  see  innumerable  exam- 
ples, particularly  Anabas.  1.  iii.  c.  v.  1.  v.  c.  viii.  and  1.  vi. 
c.  1.  never  encouraged  him  to  any  thing  imprudent  or  hurt- 
ful, and  never  restrained  him  from  any  thing  useful  or  vir- 
tuous. The  admonitions  likewise  of  Socrates’s  dmmon 
wore  always  the  same  with  the  dictates  of  right  reason. 

7 Anabas  1.  v.  p.  356,  et  seq. 


incomparably  smaller  indeed,  yet  similar  in 
form  to  the  great  temple  of  Diana.  His  image 
of  the  goddess  resembled  that  at  Ephesus,  as 
much  as  a figure  in  cypitos  could  resemble  a 
statue  of  gold.  The  banks  of  the  river  were 
planted  with  fruit-trees.  The  surrounding 
plains  and  meadows  afforded  excellent  pasture. 
The  adjoining  forests  and  mountains  abounded 
in  wild  boar,  red  deer,  and  other  species  of 
game.  There  Xenophon’s  sons  often  hunted 
with  the  youth  of  the  neighbouring  towns  and 
villages ; and  the  whole  inhabitants  of  the  coun- 
try round  were  invited  and  entertained  by  him 
at  an  annual  festival  sacred  to  Diana.  A mo- 
dest inscription  on  a marble  column,  erected 
near  the  temple,  testified  the  holiness  of  the 
place.  “This  spot  is  dedicated  to  Diana.  Let 
him,  whoever  shall  possess  it,  employ  the  tenth 
of  its  annual  produce  in  sacrifice,  and  the  re- 
mainder in  keeping  in  repair,  and  in  adorning 
the  temple.  His  neglect  will  not  be  overlooked 
by  the  goddess.”6  By  this  inscription,  wherein 
Xenophon  ventures  not  to  mention  the  name 
of  the  founder,  his  mind  seems  to  forebode  the 
calamities  which  at  last  befel  him.  In  the  war 
between  the  LacedEemonians  and  Elians,  the 
town  of  Scilluns,  together  with  the  circumja- 
cent territory,  was  seized  by  Elian  troops  ; and 
the  amiable  philosopher  and  historian,  who  had, 
in  this  delightful  retreat,  composed  those  in- 
valuable works,  which  will  inspire  the  last  ages 
of  the  world  with  the  love  of  virtue,  was  com- 
pelled, in  the  decline  of  life,  to  seek  refuge  in 
the  corrupt  and  licentious  city  of  Corinth. 

His  Expedition,  his  Grecian  History,  his  de- 
scription of  the  Athenian  and  Lacedsemonian 
governments,  have  been  noticed  in  their  proper 
place.  The  Cyropaedeia,  or  institutions  of  the 
elder  Cyrus,  is  a philosophical  romance,  intend- 
ed to  exemplify  the  doctrines  taught  by  Socra- 
tes in  the  Memorabilia,  and  to  prove  the  success 
which  naturally  attends  the  practice  of  wisdom 
and  virtue  in  the  great  affairs  of  war  and  go- 
vernment. The  highest  panegyric  of  this  work 
is,  that  many  learned  men  have  mistaken  it  for 
a true  history,  and,  deceived  by  the  inimitable 
naivete  and  persuasiveness  of  the  narrative, 
have  believed  it  possible  that,  during  the  various 
stages  of  a long  life,  Cyrus  should  have  invaria- 
bly followed  the  dictates  of  the  sublimest  philo- 
sophy. In  his  CEconomics,  Xenophon  under- 
takes the  humbler  but  not  less  useful  task,  of 
regulating  the  duties  of  domestic  life.  The 
dialogue,  entitled  Hiero,  paints  the  misery  of 
tyrants  contrasted  with  the  happiness  of  virtu- 
ous princes,  in  colours  so  lively,  and  in  line£  so 
expressive,  that  an  admirer  of  the  ancients 
might  challenge  the  ingenuity  of  modern  ages 
to  add  a single  stroke  to  the  picture.  In  speak- 
ing of  the  works  of  Xenophon,  we  must  not 
forget  his  treatise  on  the  Revenues  of  Athens; 
It  was  written  long  after  his  banishment.  In- 
stead of  resenting  the  obdurate  cruelty  of  his 
countrymen,  he  gave  them  most  judicious  and 
seasonable  advice  concerning  the  improvement 
of  the  public  revenues,  which,  there  is  reason 
to  believe,  was  in  part  adopted. 

The  orators  Lysias  and  Isocrates  flourished 
in  the  period  now  under  review.  The  former 


8 Xenoph.  Anabas.  1.  v p.  356,  ct  scq. 


360 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


was  distinguished  by  the  refined  subtilty  of  his 
pleadings  ; the  latter  by  the  polished  elegance 
of  his  moral  and  political  orations.1  Isocrates 
ventured  not  to  speak  in  public,  neither  his  con- 
stitution nor  his  voice  admitting  the  great  exer- 
tions necessary  for  that  purpose.  His  school  of 
oratory  and  composition  was  frequented  by  the 
noblest  youths  of  Athens,  of  the  neighbouring 
republics,  and  even  by  foreign  princes  ; and  as 
his  maxims  were  borrowed  from  the  Socratic 
school,  his  long  and  honourable  labours  tended 
to  keep  alive  some  sparks  of  virtue  among  his 
degenerate  countrymen.2 

But  the  man  of  learning  in  that  age,  whose 
abilities,  if  properly  directed,  might  have  most 
benefited  his  contemporaries,  was  the  celebrated 
Plato,  a man  justly  admired,  yet  more  extra- 
ordinary than  admirable.  The  same  memorable 
year  which  produced  the  Peloponnesian  war 
gave  birth  to  Plato.  He  was  descended  from 
the  Codridae,  the  most  illustrious  as  well  as  the 
most  opulent  family  in  Athens.  His  education 
was  worthy  of  his  birth.  The  gymnastic  form- 
ed and  invigorated  his  body  ; his  mind  was 
enlarged  and  enlightened  by  the  studies  of  poe- 
try3 and  geometry,  from  which  he  derived  that 
acuteness  of  judgment,  and  that  warmth  of 
fancy,  which,  being  both  carried  to  excess, 
render  him  at  once  the  most  subtile  and  the 
most  flowery  writer  of  antiquity.4  In  his  twen- 
tieth year  he  became  acquainted  with  Socrates; 
and  having  compared  his  own  poetical  produc- 
tions with  those  of  his  immortal  predecessors 
in  this  walk  of  literature,  he  committed  the 
former  to  the  flames,  and  totally  addicted  him- 
self to  philosophy.  During  eight  years  he  con- 
tinued an  assiduous  hearer  of  Socrates ; an  oc- 
casional5 indisposition  prevented  him  from  as- 
sisting at  the  last  conversations  of  the  sage, 
before  he  drank  the  fatal  hemlock.  Yet  these 
conversations,  as  related  to  him  by  persons  who 
were  present,  Plato  has  delivered  down  to  the 
admiration  of  posterity  ; and  the  affecting  sen- 
sibility with  which  he  minutely  describes  the 
inimitable  behaviour  of  Socrates,  on  this  trying 
occasion,  proves  how  deeply  the  author  was  in- 
terested in  his  subject. 

Fear  or  disgust  removed  the  scholar  of  Socra- 
tes from  the  murderers  of  his  master.  Having 
spent  some  time  in  Thebes,  Elis,  and  Megara, 
where  he  enjoyed  the  conversation  of  several  of 
his  fellow-disciples,  the  love  of  knowledge  car- 
ried him  to  Magna  Graecia ; from  thence  he 


1 See  the  Lives  of  Lysias  and  Isocrates,  prefixed  to  my 
translation  of  their  works. 

2 Ibid. 

3 Diogen.  Laert.  1.  ii. 

4 Plato’s  dialogues  are  so  different  from  each  other,  in 
point  of  thought  and  expression,  that,  if  we  knew  not  the 
versatility  of  his  genius,  it  would  be  difficult  to  believe  them 
the  works  of  one  man.  He  is  over-refined,  wire-drawn,  and 
triffling,  in  the  Cratylus,  Parmendies,  Meno,  Theaetetus,  and 
6ophistes.  He  is  flowery,  pompous,  and  tumid,  in  his  Ti- 
macus,  Panegyric,  Symposium,  and  Phcedrus.  But  in  those 
invaluable  writings,  the  Apology,  Crito,  Alcibiades,  Gor- 
gias,  Phaedo,  and  the  greater  part  of  his  books  of  laws,  in 
which  he  adheres  to  the  doctrines  of  Socrates,  and  indulges, 
without  art  or  affectation,  the  natural  bent  of  his  own  ge- 
nius, his  style  is  inimitably  sweet  and  attractive,  always 
elegant,  and  often  sublime.  His  Republic,  which  is  gene- 
rally considered  as  his  greatest  work,  abounds  in  all  the 
beauties,  and  in  all  the  deformities,  for  which  he  is  remark- 
able. See  Dionys.  Halicarn.  de  Platon. 

5 IlXaraiw  St  (sj/uou)  nrS«n».  Pluedo,  2. 


[Chap. 

sailed  to  Cyrene,  attracted  by  the  fame  of  the 
mathematician  Theodorus  ; Egypt  next  de- 
served his  curiosity,  as  the  country  to  which 
the  science  of  Theodorus  owed  its  birth,  and 
from  which  the  Pythagoreans  in  Magna  Graecia 
derived  several  tenets  of  their  philosophy. 

At  his  return  to  Athens,  Plato  could  have 
little  inclination  to  engage  in  public  life.  The 
days  were  past  when  the  virtues  of  a Solon,  or 
of  a Lycurgus,  could  reform  the  manners  of 
their  countrymen.  In  early  periods  of  society, 
the  example  and  influence  of  one  able  and  dis- 
interested man  may  produce  a happy  revolution 
in  the  community  of  which  he  is  a member. 
But  in  the  age  of  Plato,  the  Athenians  had 
fallen  into  dotage  and  imbecility.  His  luxu- 
riant fancy  compares  them  sometimes  to  old 
men,  who  have  outlived  their  senses,  and  with 
whom  it  is  vain  to  reason ; sometimes  to  wild 
beasts,  whom  it  is  dangerous  to  approach ; 
sometimes  to  an  unfruitful  soil,  that  chokes 
every  useful  plant,  and  produces  weeds  only.6 
He  prudently  withdrew  himself  from  the  scene, 
which  presented  nothing  but  danger  or  disgust, 
and  purchased  a small  villa  in  the  suburbs  near 
the  academy,  or  gymnasium,  that  had  been  so 
elegantly  adorned  by  Cimon.7  To  this  retire- 
ment, his  fame  attracted  the  most  illustrious 
characters  in  his  age  : the  noblest  youths  of 
Athens  daily  frequented  the  school  of  Plato ; 
and  here  he  continued  above  forty  years,  with 
little  interruption  except  from  his  voyages  into 
Sicily,  instructing  his  disciples,  and  composing 
his  Dialogues,  to  which  the  most  distinguished 
philosophers  in  ancient  and  modern  times  are 
greatly  indebted,  without  excepting  those  who 
reject  his  doctrines,  and  affect  to  treat  them  as 
visionary. 

The  capacious  mind  of  Plato  embraced  the 
whole  circle  of  science.  The  objects  of  human 
thought  had,  previously  to  his  age,  been  reduced, 
by  the  Pythagoreans,  to  certain  classes  or  ge- 
nera ;8  the  nature  of  truth  had  been  investi- 
gated; and  men  had  distinguished  the  relations,9 
which  the  predicate  of  any  proposition  can  bear 
to  its  subject.  The  sciences  had  already  been 
divided  into  the  natural  and  moral ; or,  in  the 
language  of  Plato,  into  the  knowledge  of  divine 
and  human  things.  The  frivolous  art  of  syllo- 
gism was  not  as  yet  invented ; and  the  logic  of 
Plato10  was  confined  to  the  more  useful  subjects 
of  definition  and  division,  by  means  of  which  he 


6  Republic.  1.  vi.  p.  38.  7 See  above,  p.  138. 

8 Many  less  perfect  divisions  had  probably  been  made 
before  Archytas  of  Tarentum  distinguished  the  ten  Catego- 
ries. Simplicius  et  Jamblichus  apud  Fr.  Patricium,  Dis- 
cuss. Peripatet.  t.  ii.  p.  182.  This  division,  the  most  perfect 
of  any  that  philosophers  have  yet  been  able  to  discover, 
Plato  learned  from  Archytas.  It  consisted  in  substances 
and  modes.  The  former  are  either  primary,  as  all  individual 
substances,  which  neither  are  in  any  other  subject,  nor  can 
be  predicated  of  it ; or  secondary,  which  subsist  in  the  first, 
and  can  be  predicated  of  them,  to  wit,  the  genera  and  spe- 
cies of  substances.  Of  modes  there  are  nine  kinds,  quantity, 
quality,  relation,  habit,  time,  place,  having,  doing,  and  suf- 
fering. Aristot.  de  Categor. 

9 These  are  called  by  logicians  the  five  Predicables,  oi 
more  properly,  the  five  classes  of  Predicates.  They  are  the 
genus,  species,  specific  difference,  property,  and  accident. 
The  use  of  these  distinctions  is  universal  in  every  subject  re- 
quiring definition  and  division  ; yet  if  meant  to  comprehend 
whatever  may  be  affirmed  of  any  subject,  the  enumeration 
is  doubtless  incomplete. 

10  The  science  properly  called  Logic  was  invented  by 
Aristotle;  the  division  of  the  sciences  into  Logic,  Physics., 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


361 


XXXII.] 

attempted  to  fix  and  ascertain  not  only  the  prac- 
tical doctrines  of  morals  and  politics,  but  the 
abstruse  and  shadowy  speculations  of  mystical 
theology.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  this 
great  and  original  genius  should  have  mistaken 
the  proper  objects  as  well  as  the  natural  limits 
of  the  human  understanding,  and  that  most  of 
the  inquiries  of  Plato  and  his  successors  should 
appear  extremely  remote  from  the  public  trans- 
actions of  the  times  in  which  they  lived.  Yet 
the  speculations  in  which  they  were  engaged, 
how  little  soever  they  may  be  connected  with 
the  political  revolutions  of  Greece,  seem  too  in- 
teresting in  themselves  to  be  entirely  omitted  in 
this  historical  work,  especially  when  it  is  con- 
sidered that  the  philosophy  of  Plato  and  his 
disciples  has  been  very  widely  diffused  among 
all  the  civilized  nations  of  the  work! ; that  dur- 
ing many  centuries,  it  governed  with  uncon- 
trolled sway  the  opinions  of  the  speculative 
part  of  mankind ; and  that  the  same  philosophy 
still  influences  the  reasonings,  and  divides  the 
sentiments,  of  the  learned  in  modern  Europe. 

The  lively,  but  immethodical,  manner  in 
which  the  opinions  of  Plato  are  explained  by 
himself,  renders  it  difficult  to  collect  and  abridge 
them.  The  great  number  of  interlocutors  in 
his  dialogues,  the  irony  of  Socrates,  and  the 
continual  intermixture  of  Plato’s  own  senti- 
ments with  those  of  his  master,  heighten  the 
difficulty,  and  make  it  impossible,  from  particu- 
lar passages,  to  judge  of  the  scope  and  tendency 
of  the  whole.  The  works  of  Xenophon,  how- 
ever, may  enable  a diligent  student  to  separate 
the  pure  ore  of  Socrates  from  the  adventitious 
matter  with  which  it  is  combined  in  the  rich 
vein  of  Platonism  ; and  by  carefully  comparing 
the  different  parts  of  the  latter,  he  may  with 
certainty  determine  the  principal  designs  of  its 
author. 

From  this  view  of  the  subject,  it  would  ap- 
pear that  Plato  aimed  at  nothing  less,  than  to 
reconcile  the  appearances  of  the  natural  and 
moral  world  with  the  wise  government  of  a 
self-existent  unchangeable  cause ; to  explain  the 
nature  and  origin  of  the  human  mind,  as  well 
as  of  its  various  powers  of  perception,  volition, 
and  intellect;  and,  on  principles  resulting  from 
these  discoveries,  to  build  a system  of  ethics, 
which,  in  proportion  as  it  were  followed  by 
mankind,  would  promote  not  only  their  inde- 
pendence and  security  in  the  present  world,  but 
-heir  happiness  and  perfection  in  a future  state 
»f  existence. 

Let  us  look  where  we  will  around  us,  we 
shall  every  where,  said  Plato,  perceive  a passing 
procession  :u  the  objects  which  compose  the  ma- 
terial world,  arise,  change,  perish,  and  are  suc- 
ceeded by  others,  which  undergo  the  same  re- 
volutions.12 One  body  moves  another,  which 
impels  a third,  and  so  forwards  in  succession ; 
but  the  first  cause  of  motion  resides  not  in  any 
of  them.  This  cause  acts  not  fortuitously  ; the 


nnd  Ethics,  was  first  given  by  his  contemporary  Xenocrate.s. 
Vid.  Bracken  de  Aristot.  et  Xenocrat.  Of  Aristotle  more 
hereafter. 

11  This  was  borrowed  from  Heraclitus,  who  expressed 
the  same  idea,  by  saying,  that  all  corporeal  things  were  in  a 
perpetual  flux.  Vid.  Platon,  in  Theajtet.  p.  83.  et  in  So- 
phist. p.  108. 

12  Timssus,  tub  initio. 

2 Z 


regular  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies,13  the 
beautiful  order  of  the  seasons,  the  admirable 
structure  of  plants  and  animals,  announce  an 
intelligent  Author.14  It  is  difficult  by  searching 
to  find  out  the  nature  of  the  Divinity,  and  im- 
possible by  words  to  describe  it;  yet  the  works 
which  he  has  done,  attest  his  power,  his  wis- 
dom, and  his  goodness,  to  be  greater  than  human 
imagination  can  conceive.15  In  the  self-existent 
cause,  these  attributes  must  unite.  He  is  there- 
fore unchangeable16  since  no  alteration  can  in- 
crease his  perfections,  and  it  would  be  absurd  to 
suppose  him  ever  inclined  to  diminish  them.17 

Impelled  by  his  goodness,  the  Deity,  viewing 
in  his  own  intellect  the  ideas  or  archetypes  of  all 
possible  existence,  formed  the  beautiful  arrange- 
ment of  the  universe  from  that  rude  indigested 
matter,  which,  existing  from  all  eternity,  had 
been  for  ever  animated  by  an  irregular  principle 
of  motion.16  This  principle,  which  Plato  calls 
the  irrational  soul  of  the  world,  he  thought  suf- 
ficiently attested,  in  the  innumerable  deviations 
from  the  established  laws  of  nature,  in  the  ex- 
travagant passions  of  men,  and  in  the  physical 
and  moral  evil,  which,  in  consequence  of  these 
deviations  and  passions,  so  visibly  prevail  in  the 
world.  Without  admitting  a certain  stubborn 
intractability,  and  disorderly  wildness,  essential 
to  matter,  and  therefore  incapable  of  being  en- 
tirely eradicated  or  subdued,  it  seemed  impossi- 
ble to  explain  the  origin  of  evil  under  the  go- 
vernment of  Deity.19 

From  these  rude  materials,  God,  according  to 
the  fanciful  doctrine  of  Plato,  formed  the  four 
elements,  and  built  the  beautiful  structure  of  the 
heavens  and  the  earth,  after  the  model  of  those 
eternal  exemplars,29  or  patterns,  which  subsist 


13  By  these  he  meant  the  fixed  stars  ; the  motions  of  the 
planets  he  ascribed  to  another  cause,  as  will  appear  below. 

14  Plato  de  Legibus,  1.  x.  p.  609. 

15  Timams.  p.  477.  et  de  Repub.  1.  ii.  p.  144. 

16  For  the  immutability  of  the  Deity,  Plato,  contrary  to 
his  general  custom,  condescends  to  use  an  argument  from 
induction:  “Even  of  material  things,  the  most  perfect  least 
feel  the  effects  of  time,  and  remain  longest  unaltered.”  De 
Repub.  p.  150. 

17  Ibid.  p.  150. 

18  Politic,  p.  120,  et  seq.  et  Timteus,  passim. 

19  De  Legibus,  1.  x.  p.  608.  Philem.  p.  160. 

20  These  exemplars,  or  7rxgx8cry/xxTx,  are  the  ideas  of 
Plato,  which  are  so  much  misrepresented  by  many  of  the 
later  Platonists,  or  Eclectics.  He  names  them,  indifferently, 

l8lX;t  S«5>),  SOCOV3££,  XX  XXTX  TOSUTse,  et  OITXUTaig  (%0VTX. 

The  two  last  expressions  are  used  to  distinguish  them  from 
the  fleeting  and  perishable  forms  of  matter.  Plato  repre- 
sents these  ideas  as  existing  in  the  divine  intellect,  as  beings 
entirely  mental,  not  objects  of  any  of  the  senses,  and  not 
circumscribed  by  place  or  time.  By  the  first  universal  cause, 
these  ideas  were  infused  into  the  various  species  of  created 
beings,  in  whom  (according  to  Ammonius,  in  Porphyr.  In- 
troduce p.  29.)  they  existed,  as  the  impression  of  a seal  ex- 
ists in  the  wax  to  which  it  has  been  applied.  In  its  pre- 
existent state,  the  human  mind  viewed  these  intelligible 
forms  in  their  original  seat,  the  field  of  truth.  But  since  men 
were  imprisoned  in  the  body,  they  receive  their  ideas  from 
external  objects,  as  explained  in  the  text.  Such  is  the  doc 
trine  of  Plato.  But  many  of  the  later  Platonists,  and  even 
several  writers  of  the  present  age,  have  imagined  that  he 
ascribed  to  ideas  a separate  and  independent  existence. 
Vid.  Brucker.  Histor.  Philosoph.  p.  695,  et  seq.  Gedike. 
Histor.  Plflosoph.  ex  Ciceron.  Collect,  p.  183,  etseq.  Mon- 
boddo,  Origin  of  Language,  vol.  t.  c.  ix.  Of  all  the  absurdi- 
ties embraced  by  philosophers,  this  doubtless  would  be  the 
greatest,  to  believe  eternal  unchangeable  patterns  of  the  va- 
rious genera  nnd  species  of  things  existing  npart,  nnd  inde- 
pendent of  the  mind  by  which  these  abstract  notions  are 
conceived.  If.  is  not  extraordinary  therefore,  that  many 
writers  of  the  Alexandrian  school,  whoso  extravagant  fan 
cies  could  fix  and  embody  metaphysical  abstractions,  and 
realise  intellectual  ideas,  should  animate  and  personify  the 


362 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


in  the  divine  intelligence.* 1  Considering  that 
beings  possessed  of  mental  powers  were  far 
preferable  to  those  destitute  of  such  faculties, 
God  infused  into  the  corporeal  world  a rational 
soul,  which,  as  it  could  not  be  immediately 
combined  with  body,  he  united  to  the  active, 
but  irrational  principle,  essentially  inherent  in 
matter.2  Having  thus  formed  and  animated 
the  earth,  the  sun,  the  moon,  and  the  other 
visible  divinities,  the  great  father  of  spirits 
proceeded  to  create  the  invisible  gods  and  dae- 
mons,3 whose  nature  and  history  Plato  de- 
scribes with  a respectful  reverence  for  the 
religion  of  his  country.4  After  finishing  this 
great  work,  the  God  of  gods,  again  contemplat- 
ing the  ideal  forms  in  his  own  mind,  perceived 
there  the  exemplars  of  three  species  of  beings, 
which  he  realized  in  the  mortal  inhabitants  of 
the  earth,  air,  and  water.  The  task  of  forming 
these  sensible,  but  irrational  beings,  he  com- 
mitted to  the  inferior  divinities ; because,  had 
this  last  work  likewise  proceeded  from  his  own 
hands,  it  must  have  been  immortal  like  the 
gods.5  The  souls  of  men,  on  the  other  hand, 
he  himself  formed  from  the  remainder  of  the 
rational  soul  of  the  world.  They  first  existed 
in  the  state  of  deemons,  only  invested  with  a 
thin  ethereal  body.  Having  offended  God  by 
neglecting  their  duty,  they  were  condemned  to 
unite  with  the  gross  corporeal  mass,  by  which 
their  divine  faculties  are  so  much  clogged  and 
encumbered.6 

It  was  necessary  briefly  to  explain  the  meta- 
physical theology  of  Plato,  how  visionary  soever 
it  may  appear,  because  the  doctrine  of  ideal 
forms,  together  with  that  of  the  pre-existent 
state  of  the  human  mind,  are  the  main  pillars 
of  his  philosophy.  Before  their  incarceration 
in  the  body,  the  souls  of  men  enjoyed  the  pre- 
sence of  their  Maker,  and  contemplated  the 
unchangeable  ideas  and  essences  of  things  in 
the  field  of  truth.  In  viewing  and  examining 
these  eternal  archetypes  of  order,  beauty,  and 
virtue,  consisted  the  noblest  energy,  and  highest 
perfection  of  celestial  spirits,7  which,  being 
emanations  of  the  deity,  can  never  rest  satisfied 
with  objects  and  occupations  unworthy  their 
divine  original.  But  in  their  actual  state,  men 
can  perceive  with  their  corporeal  senses,  only 
the  fleeting  images  and  imperfect  representa- 
tions of  these  immutable  essences  of  things,  in 
the  fluctuating  objects  of  the  material  world, 
which  are  so  little  steady  and  permament,  that 
they  often  change  their  nature  and  properties, 
even  while  we  view  and  examine  them.8  Be- 


Xoyov  roo  Be ou,  the  divine  intellect,  in  which,  according  to 
Plato,  these  ideas  resided,  and  from  which  they  were  com- 
municated to  other  intelligences.  The  same  visionary  fa- 
natics who  discovered,  in  the  \o-yog  of  Plato,  the  second 
person  of  the  Trinity,  recognised  the  Holy  Spirit  in  his  Soul 
of  the  World;  but  as  this  irrational  principle  of  motion  ill 
corresponded  to  the  third  person  of  the  Godhead,  they  in- 
vented an  hvper-cosmian  soul,  concerning  which  Plato  is 
altogether  silent.  See  the  Encyclopedic,  article  Ecleclique. 
Brucker.  Hist.  Philosoph.  vol.  i.  p.  712,  et  seq.  and  Meiner’s 
Beytrag  zur  geschichte  der  denkart  derersten  Jahrhunderte 
nach  Christi  geburt  in  einigen  betrachtungen  iiber  die  neu 
Platonische  Philosophic. 

1.  Timaeus,  Polit.  1.  vi.  2 Ibid.  p.  477,  et  seq. 

3 Ibid.  p.  480.  4 Apolog.  Socratis 

5 Timaeus,  p.  480,  et  481.  6 Ibid. 

7 Repub.  1.  vi.  Phaedrus,  Philebus,  &c 

8 PhiBdo,  Tiraaeus,  £cc. 


[Chap. 

side  this,  our  senses  themselves  are  liable  to  in- 
numerable disorders ; and  unless  we  are  con- 
stantly on  the  watch,  never  fail  to  deceive  us.9 
Hence  the  continual  errors  in  our  judgments  of 
men  and  things;  hence  the  improper  ends  we 
pursue;  hence  the  very  inadequate  means  by 
which  we  seek  to  attain  them ; hence,  in  one 
word,  all  the  errors  and  misery  of  life.  Yet 
even  in  this  degraded  state,  to  which  men  were 
condemned  for  past  offences,  their  happiness 
ceases  not  to  be  an  object  of  care  to  the  Deity. 
As  none  can  rise  so  high,  none  can  sink  so  low, 
as  to  escape  the  eye  and  arm  of  the  Almighty.19 
The  divine  Providence  observes  and  regulates 
the  meanest,  as  well  as  the  greatest,  of  its  pro- 
ductions. But  the  good  of  the  part  being  sub- 
ordinate to  that  of  the  whole,  it  is  necessary 
that  each  individual  should  be  rewarded  or  pu- 
nished, in  proportion  as  he  fulfils  the  task  as- 
signed him.  It  is  by  the  performance  of  his 
duty  alone,  that  man  can  regain  the  favour  of 
his  Maker  ;]  1 for  it  is  ridiculous  to  think  that  this 
inestimable  benefit  can  be  purchased  by  rich 
presents  and  expensive  sacrifices.  Religion 
cannot  be  a traffic  of  interest.12  What  can  we 
offer  to  the  gods,  which  they  have  not  first  be- 
stowed on  us  ? Will  they  thank  us  for  restor- 
ing their  own  gifts  ? It  is  absurd  to  think  it. 
To  please  the  Divinity,  we  must  obey  his  will 
concerning  us;  nor  can  we  comply  with  the 
purpose  of  our  creation,  and  fulfil  our  destiny, 
without  aspiring  at  those  noble  powers  with 
which  we  were  originally  endowed  ;13  and  which, 
even  in  our  present  degenerate  state,  it  is  still 
possible,  by  proper  diligence,  to  recover.14 

Our  senses  give  us  information  of  external 
objects,  which  are  stored  up  in  the  memory, 
and  variously  combined  by  the  imagination.15 
But  it  is  remarkable  that  those  ideas,  thus  ac- 
quired and  retained,  have  the  power  of  suggest- 
ing others  far  more  accurate  and  perfect  than 
themselves,  and  which,  though  excited  by  ma- 
terial objects,  cannot  be  derived  from  them,  un- 
less (which  is  impossible)  the  effect  were  more 
beautiful  and  perfect  than  the  cause.  That  we 
possessed,  in  a pre-existent  state,  those  ideas 
which  modern  philosophers  refer  by  an  easy 
solution  to  the  powers  of  generalization  and  ab- 
straction,16 Plato  thought  evident  from  the  fa- 
cility with  which  we  recalled  them.17  Of  this 
he  gave  an  example  in  Meno’s  slave,  who, 
when  properly  questioned  by  Socrates,  easily 
recollected  and  explained  many  properties  of 
numbers  and  figures,  although  he  had  never 
learned  the  sciences  of  arithmetic  and  geome- 
try.18 According  to  Plato,  therefore,  all  science 
consisted  in  reminiscence,  in  recalling  the  na- 
ture, proportions,  and  relations  of  those  uni- 
form and  unchangeable  essences,  about  which 


9 Phasdo.  p.  31.  et  Repub.  1.  v.  10  De  Legibus. 

11  Eutyphon.  12  Repub.  1.  ii.  p.  100.  et  seq. 

13  Minos,  p.  510.  Timtcus,  p.  500. 

14  Repub.  1.  v. 

15  Theaetet.  p.  85.  et  seq.  and  Philem.  184,  et  seq. 

16  The  ancients  were  not  ignorant  of  this  philosophy. 

Simplicius,  speaking  of  the  origin  of  intelligible  forms,  or 
ideas,  in  the  human  mind,  says,  *ip(X.ovTff  »vt»  tv 

ratg  wsreexei  evvotxig  xxtx  exvrx  viretmio-ctfiiv  : “We 
ourselves,  abstracting  them  in  our  thoughts,  have,  by  this 
abstraction,  given  them  an  existence  in  themselves.”  Simp, 
in  Praed.  p.  17. 

17  Menon.  p.  344-  18  Ibid. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


363 


XXXII.] 

the  human  mind  had  originally  been  conver- 
sant, and  after  the  model  of  which  all  created 
things  were  made.19  These  intellectual  forms, 
comprehending  the  true  essences  of  things, 
were  the  only  proper  objects  of  solid  and  per- 
mament  science  ;20  their  fluctuating-  represen- 
tatives in  the  material  world,  the  actions  and 
virtues  of  men,  the  order  and  beauty  visible  in 
the  universe,  were  only  so  far  real  and  substan- 
tial as  they  corresponded  to  their  divine  arche- 
types;21 but  as  this  correspondence  never  be- 
came complete,  the  examination  of  the  perish- 
ing objects  of  sense  could  only  afford  us  un- 
steady and  uncertain  notions,  fleeting  and  fugi- 
tive like  themselves.22  From  these  observations, 
Plato  thought  it  evident,  that  the  duty  and  hap- 
piness of  men  consisted  in  withdrawing  them- 
selves from  the  material,  and  approaching  the 
intellectual  world,23  to  which  their  own  natures 
were  more  congenial.  To  promote  this  purpose 
was  the  great  aim  of  his  philosophy.  If  we 
were  deceived  by  the  senses,  h^  observed,  that 
we  were  still  more  fatally  endangered  by  the 
passions,  those  flimsy  sails  of  the  mind,  which 
were  expanded  and  agitated  by  every  varying 
gust  of  imagined  good  or  evil.24  The  pains 
and  pleasures  of  the  body  were  all  of  a mixed 
✓kind,  and  nearly  allied  to  each  other.  The  God 
who  arranged  the  world,  desirous  to  unite 
and  incorporate  these  seemingly  opposite  na- 
tures, had  at  least  joined  their  summits;  for 
pleasure  was  nothing  else  but  a rapid  cessation 
of  pain  ; and  the  liveliest  of  our  bodily  enjoy- 
ments were  preceded  by  uneasiness,  and  follow- 


19  Repub.  1.  vi. 

20  E7r«<rr>i^i),  science,  in  opposition  to  opinion. 

The  materia]  world  he  called  to  SoZxo-tov,  that  of  which 
the  knowledge  admitted  of  probability  only.  Rejmb.  1.  v. 
The  ideas  of  Plato,  which,  according  to  that  philosopher, 
formed  the  sole  objects  of  real  and  certain  knowledge,  were 
powerfully  combated  by  his  scholar  and  rival  Aristotle. 
Vet  the  latter,  who  was  so  sharp-sighted  to  the  faults  of 
Plato,  never  accuses  him  of  maintaining  the  separate  and 
independent  existence  of  intellectual  forms.  The  obscure 
passage  in  Aristotle’s  Metaphysics,  p.  201,  which  has  been 
construed  into  such  an  accusation,  means  nothing  more, 
than  that  Socrates  regarded  the  ra.  x«6’  o\ov,  general  ideas, 
as  differing  in  no  respect  from  our  notions  of  the  genera 
and  species  of  things ; whereas  Plato  made  a distinction 
between  them,  asserting  these  ideas  to  have  existed  in  the 
divine  intellect  before  the  creation,  &c.  as  explained  in  the 
text.  Aristotle  discusses  the  doctrine  of  ideas  more  per- 
spicuously in  his  Ethics  to  Nicomachus,  1.  i.  c.  vi.  He  re- 
gards them  as  mere  fictions  of  the  fancy,  and  the  know- 
ledge founded  on  them  as  altogether  visionary.  “The  idea 
of  good,”  he  observed,  “might  be  applied  to  substances,  as 
the  Deity,  the  mind  of  man  ; to  qualities,  as  the  virtues;  to 
quantity,  as  mediocrity  ; to  time,  as  the  juncture  or  nick  of 
time;  in  short,  through  all  the  categories.  There  is  not, 
therefore,  any  one  general  idea  of  good  common  to  all 
these.  Were  there  one  idea,  the  same  in  alf,  there  could 
be  but  one  science  respecting  it.  But  there  are  many, 
physic,  gymnastic,  the  military  art,  &c.  which  all  have  some 
good  in  view.  Things  are  good  in  themselves,  or  good  as 
means  to  an  end.  But  even  those  things  which  are  ulti- 
mately good,  as  wisdom,  honour,  pleasure,  are  not  compre- 
hended under  any  one  definition  of  good,  though  distin- 
guished by  the  same  epithet  from  some  analogy  or  resem- 
blance, as  the  understanding  is  called  the  eye  of  the  mind. 
If  there  is  any  such  general  idea,  it  is  surely  incapable  of 
being  applied  to  any  practical  use ; not  as  a model,  other- 
wise the  arts  and  sciences,  all  of  which  have  some  good  in 
view,  would  continually  have  this  model  before  them.  Yet 
they  all  neglect  it,  and  justly;  for  what  benefit  could  they 
derive  from  this  abstract  idea  ? A physician,  for  instance, 
contemplates  not  health  in  that  general  manner,  but  the 
health  of  man,  or  rather  of  a particular  man,  who  happens 
to  bo  his  patient;  for  with  individuals  only  his  art  is  con- 
cerned.” 

21  Parmen.  p.  140. 

23  Repub.  p.  134.  et  Phasd.  p.  26. 


ed  by  langour.25  To  illustrate  the  necessity  o. 
governing  with  a strong  hand  the  appetites  and 
passions,  Plato  compared  the  soul  to  a little  re- 
public, composed  of  different  faculties  or  or- 
ders.26 The  judging  or  reasoning  faculty,  justly 
entitled  to  the  supremacy,  was  seated,  as  in  a 
firm  citadel,  in  the  head;  the  senses  were  its 
guards  and  servants;  the  various  desires  and 
affections  were  bound  to  pay  it  obedience. 

Of  these  desires,  which  were  all  of  them  the 
natural  subjects  of  the  ruling  faculty,  Plato 
distinguished  two  orders,  ever  ready  to  rebel 
against  their  master.  The  first  consisted  of 
those  passions  which  are  founded  in  pride  and 
resentment,  or  in  what  the  schoolmen  called 
the  irascible  part  of  the  soul  ;27  and  were  seated 
in  the  bVeast.  The  second  consisted  of  those 
passions  which  are  founded  in  the  love  of  plea- 
sure, or  in  what  the  schoolmen  called  the  con- 
eupiscible28  part  of  the  soul,  and  were  seated 
in  the  belly,  and  inferior  parts  of  the  body. 
These  different  orders,  though  commonly  at 
variance  with  each  other,  were  alike  dangerous 
to  the  public  interest,  and  unless  restrained  by 
the  wisdom  and  authority  of  their  sovereign, 
must  inevitably  plunge  the  little  republic  of 
man  into  the  utmost  disorder  and  misery.29 

Yet,  according  to  Plato,  both  these  sets  of 
passions  were,  in  the  present  state  of  things, 
necessary  parts  of  our  constitution;  and,  when 
properly  regulated,  became  very  useful  subjects. 
The  irascible  asserted  our  rank  and  dignity,  de- 
fended us  against  injuries,  and  when  duly  in- 
formed and  tempered  by  reason,  taught  us  with 
becoming  fortitude  to  despise  dangers  and  death, 
in  pursuit  of  what  is  honourable  and  virtuous. 
The  concupiscible  provided  for  the  support  and 
necessities  of  the  body  ; and,  when  reduced  to 
such  submission  as  to  reject  every  gratification 
not  approved  by  reason,  gave  rise  to  the  virtue 
of  temperance.  Justice  took  place,  according  to 
Plato,  when  reason  directed  and  passion  obeyed, 
and  when  each  passion  performed  its  proper  of- 
fice, and  acknowledged  due  respect  towards  its 
superior.  In  the  strength,  acuteness,  and  per- 
fection of  the  ruling  faculty,  consisted  the  vir- 
tue of  prudence,  the  great  source  and  principle 
of  all  other  virtues,  without  which  temperance, 
fortitude,  and  even  justice  itself,  were  nothing 
but  empty  shadows,  that  deluded  the  ignorant 
vulgar.  In  the  exercise  of  prudence  or  wisdom, 
man  resembled  his  Maker,  and  contemplated 
those  intellecual  forms,  which  taught  him  to 
discern  with  certainty  the  ends  proper  to  be 
pursued,  and  the  means  necessary  to  attain 
them.  The  wise  man  compares  the  mind  with 
the  body,  eternity  with  time,  virtue  with  plea- 
sure. He  thus  learns  to  despise  the  inferior 
parts  of  his  nature,  to  defy  its  pains,  to  disdain 
its  pleasures.  Without  attaining  this  true  ele- 
vation of  mind,  he  never  can  be  virtuous  or 
happy,  since  whoever  depends  on  the  body, 
must  consider  death  as  an  evil,  the  fear  of  which 
can  only  be  overcome  by  some  greater  terror  ■; 
so  that  in  him  who  is  not  truly  wise,  forti- 

25  Phffid.  Philem.  et  Repub.  1.  ii.  p.  262.  et  seq. 

26  Repub.  1.  iv.  27  The  To  Su/uosiJsj  of  Plato. 

28  The  To  twiSo/ittio-Jxov  of  Plato.  Both  are  included 
under  what  Plato  and  Aristotle  call  the  o$s>ct<xov  the  seat 
of  the  desires  and  passions. 

29  Ibid.  p.  254. 


22  Repub.  1.  vii. 
24  Phaedrus. 


364 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


tude  itself  must  be  the  effect  of  timidity.1  In 
the  same  manner,  his  pretended  moderation 
and  temperance  will  spring  from  the  impure 
source  of  the  opposite  vices.  He  will  deny 
himself  some  pleasures,  to  attain  others  which 
he  regards  as  more  valuable,  and  will  submit  to 
small  pains  to  avoid  the  greater.2  He  thus 
continues  through  life,  exchanging  one  trifle 
for  another ; a traffic  which  never  can  enrich 
him,  while  he  rejects  wisdom,  the  only  precious 
merchandise. 

But  the  temple  of  wisdom  is,  according  to 
Plato,  situate  on  a rock,  which  few  men  have 
the  strength  to  ascend.3  This  difference  of 
ability  proceeds  from  various  causes : 1.  At 
their  creation,  all  minds  were  not  alike  excellent 
and  perfect.4  2.  They  were  not  alike  crimi- 
nal during  their  pre-existent  state.5  3.  The 
gross  bodies  which  they  now  inhabit  are  vari- 
ously moulded,  some  being  too  strong,  others 
too  weak,  and  very  few  in  just  harmony  with 
the  divine  principle  by  which  they  are  animat- 
ed.6 4.  Early  institution  and  example  occa- 
sion great  differences  among  them.  Such,  in- 
deed, is  the  power  of  education  and  habit,  that 
the  errors  and  crimes  of  men  are  less  chargea- 
ble on  those  who  commit  them,  than  on  their 
parents,  guardians,  and  instructors  ;7  and  it 
seems  hardly  possible  for  those  who  have  the 
misfortune  to  be  born  in  a licentious  age  and 
country,  to  attain  wisdom  and  virtue.  Even 
when  the  most  favourite  circumstances  unite, 
the  mind  must  still,  however,  have  a tendency 
to  degenerate,  while  united  with  matter.8  The 
body,  therefore,  must  be  continually  exercised 
and  subdued  by  the  gymnastic,  the  soul  must 
be  purified  and  ennobled  by  philosophy.  With- 
out such  attention,  men  can  neither  reach  the 
perfection  of  their  nature,  or,  when  they  have 
reached  it,  maintain  that  elevated  post,  from 
which  they  look  down  with  compassion  on  the 
errors  and  misery  of  their  fellow  creatures.9 

In  the  description  of  his  imaginary  sago, 
Plato  employs  the  colours  which  were  after- 
wards borrowed  by  the  Stoics  and  Epicureans. 
But  neither  of  these  sects,  as  will  appear  here- 
after, were  so  well  entitled  as  the  Platonists,  to 
boast  their  philosophical  happiness,  and  to  as- 
sert their  superiority  to  the  vicissitudes  of  time 
and  fortune.  Plato  was  the  first  philosopher 
who  supported  the  doctrine  of  a future  state, 
by  arguments  that  seemed  capable  to  convince 
intelligent  and  thinking  men.  From  the  pro- 
perties of  mind,  he  inferred  the  simplicity  and 
indestructibility  of  the  substance  in  which  they 
reside.10  He  described  the  mental  powers  with 
an  eloquence  that  Cicero11  and  Buffon12  have 
not  been  able  to  surpass.  And  since  he  re- 


I  Repub.  1.  vi.  2 Phaedo,  p.  26,  et  seq. 

3 Repub.  1.  vi.  p.  74.  4 Phaedrus. 

5 Ibid.  6 Timaeus.  7 Ibid. 

8 Ibid.  p.  484.  et  Repub.  passim. 

9 Timaeus,  p.  484.  et  Repub.  passim. 

10  Phaedo,  p.  25,  et  seq. 

II  See  Cicer.  de  Offic.  1.  i.  et  passim. 

12  Buffon  sur  PHomme. 


garded  the  soul  as  the  principle  of  life  and  mo- 
tion, he  thought  it  absurd  to  suppose  that  the 
diseases  and  death  of  the  body  should  take 
from  this  principle  such  qualities  as  it  essen- 
tially possessed  in  itself,  and  accidentally  com- 
municated to  matter.13  It  was  his  firm  per 
suasion,  that,  according  to  the  employment  of 
its  rational  and  moral  powers,  the  soul,  after  its 
separation  from  the  body,  would  be  raised  to  a 
higher,  or  depressed  to  a lower  state  of  exist- 
ence.14 

This  belief,  which  raised  his  hopes  to  a higher 
scene,  gave  him  not,  however,  that  contempt, 
affected  by  a very  different  class  of  philoso- 
phers, for  the  perishing  affairs15  of  the  present 
world.  Like  some  others  of  the  scholars  of 
Socrates,  he  traced  the  plan  of  a perfect  com- 
monwealth ; though  his  work,  known  by  that 
title,  as  has  been  justly  observed  by  a great 
genius,16  is  rather  a treatise  of  education  than 
a system  of  policy.  The  real  republic' of  Plato 
is  contained  in  his  books  of  laws,  in  which  he 
explains,  with  do  less  acuteness  than  elegance, 
the  origin  and  revolutions  of  civil  society,  and 
traces  the  plan  of  a republic  nearly  resembling 
the  Spartan  model. 

His  practical  morality,  which  he  borrowed 
from  Socrates,  is  profusely  scattered  through 
his  dialogues  ; and  in  his  own  times,  Plato  was 
not  considered  as  that  visionary  speculatist 
which  he  has  appeared  to  later  ages.  His  scho- 
lars, Aristonymus,  Phorrnio,  and  Eudoxus,  were 
successively  sent  by  him  to  regulate  the  repub- 
lics of  the  Arcadians,  Elians,  and  Cnidians,17 
at  the  earnest  request  of  those  communities 
From  Xenocrates,  another  of  his  disciples,  Al- 
exander desired  rules  for  good  government.18 
The  fame  of  Aristotle  is  well  known ; and  it 
will  afterwards  appear  how  much  he  was  in 
debted  to  a master,  whose  opinions  he  often 
combated  with  seeming  reluctance,  and  real 
satisfaction.  Plato  was  no  less  capable  to  dis- 
tinguish ideas  than  to  combine  images.  He 
united  warmth  of  fancy  and  acuteness  of  un- 
derstanding, in  a greater  degree  than  perhaps 
has  fallen  to  the  share  of  any  other  man.  Yet 
when  compared  with  his  master  Socrates,  his 
genius  will  appear  more  subtiler  than  sagacious 
He  wanted  that  patient  spirit  of  observation 
which  distinguished  the  illustrious  sage,  who 
in  all  his  reasonings  kept  facts  ever  in  his  view 
and  at  every  step  he  made,  looked  back  with 
wary  circumspection  on  experience.  Accom- 
panied by  this  faithful  guide,  Socrates  trod  se- 
curely the  paths  of  truth  and  nature;  but  his 
adventurous  disciple,  trusting  to  the  wings  of 
fancy,  often  expatiates  in  imaginary  worlds  of 
his  own  creation. 


13  Phaedo.  14  Phaedrus,  et  Phaedo,  pass  , 

15  The  Epicureans. 

“ Non  res  humanae,  perituraque  regna.”  Georg. 
Of  this  more  below. 

16  Rousseau  in  his  Emile. 

17  Plutarch,  advers.  Colot.  Epicur. 

18  Idem,  ibid. 


XXXIII.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


365 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

History  of  Macedon — Reign  of  Archelaus — Series  of  Usurpations  and  Revolutions — Perdiccas 
defeated  by  the  Illyrians — Distracted  State  of  Macedon — First  Transactions  of  Philip — State 
of  Thrace  and  Pceonia — Philip  defeats  Argceus  and  the  Athenians — His  Treatment  of  the  Pri- 
soners— His  military  Arrangements — He  defeats  the  Illyrians — His  designs  against  Amphipolis 
— He  prevents  an  Alliance  between  Athens  and  Olynthus — Amuses  the  Athenians — Takes  Am- 
phipolis— His  Conquests  in  Thrace — The  Mines  of  Crenidce — Philip  marries  Olympias — His 
Letter  to  Aristotle. 


X^OUR  hundred  and  sixteen  years  before  the 
Christian  era,  and  little  more  than  half  a 
century  before  Philip  assumed  the  government 
of  Macedon,  that  country,  to  a superficial  ob- 
server, might  have  appeared  scarcely  distin- 
A r ftld  guishable  from  the  barbarous  king- 
doms of  Thrace,  Paeonia,  and  llly- 
ricum,  which  surrounded  it  on  the  north,  east, 
and  west.  Towards  the  south,  it  was  excluded 
from  the  sea  by  a chain  of  Grecian  republics, 
of  which  Olynthus  and  Amphipolis  were  the 
most  flourishing  and  powerful.  To  this  inland 
district,  originally  confined  to  the  circumference 
of  about  three  hundred  miles,  Caranus,  an  Ar- 
give  prince  of  the  numerous  race  of  Hercules, 
eluding  the  dangers  which  proved  fatal  to  roy- 
alty's jn  most  communities  of  Greece,20  con- 
ducted ^ small  colony  of  his  adventurous  and 
warlike  countrymen,  and,  having  conquered  the 
barbarous  natives,  settled  in  Edessa,  the  capital 
of  the  province  then  named  Emathia,  and  af- 
terwards Macedonia,  for  reasons  equally  un- 
known.21 The  establishment  of  this  little  prin- 
cipality, which,  under  Philip,  grew  into  a pow- 
erful kingdom,  and,  under  Alexander,  swelled 
into  the  most  extensive  empire  known  in  the 
ancient  world,  was  adorned  (could  we  believe 
historic  flattery)  by  many  extraordinary  cir- 
cumstances, presaging  its  future  greatness.  The 
gods  took  care  of  the  infancy  of  Macedon,  and 
sent,  as  oracles  had  announced,  a herd  of  goats 
to  conduct  Caranus  to  his  new  capital  of  Edessa, 
which  thence  changed  its  name  to  Algae,  the 
city  of  goats ; a fiction  unworthy  of  record, 
did  it  not  explain  the  reason  why  goats  were 
adopted  as  the  ensigns  of  Macedon,  and  why 
the  figures  of  those  animals  are  still  to  be  seen 
on  the  coins  of  Philip,  and  those  of  his  suc- 
cessors. 

Caranus,  as  well  as  the  princes  Coenus22  and 
Thyrimas,  who  immediately  followed  him,  had 
occasion  to  exercise  their  prudence  still  more 
than  their  valour.  Their  feeble  colony  of 
Greeks  might  have  fallen  an  easy  prey  to  the 
unhospitable  ferocity  of  the  barbarous  tribes, 
by  whom  it  was  on  all  sides  surrounded.  But 
the  policy  of  the  first  kings  of  Macedon,  in- 
stead of  vainly  attempting  to  repel  or  to  sub- 
due, endeavoured,  with  more  success,  to  gain, 
by  good  offices,  the  ancient  inhabitants  of  Ema- 
thia and  the  neighbouring  districts.  They 
communicated  to  them  the  knowledge  of  many 
useful23  arts ; they  gave  them  the  Grecian  reli- 


19  Justin.  1.  vii.  c.  i.  Velleius  Paterculus,  1.  i.  c.  vi. 
520  See  p.  36. 

21  Crophius  Antiquit.  Macedon. 

22  Justin,  ubi  supra.  Syncell.  Chronic. 

23  Pausanias  Achaic.  ot  Thucydid.  1.  ii. 


gion24  and  government25  in  that  state  of  happy 
simplicity  which  prevailed  during  the  heroic 
ages ; and  while,  to  render  intercourse  more 
easy  and  familiar,  they  adopted,  in  some  de- 
gree, the  language  and  manners  of  the  barbar- 
ous natives,  they,  in  their  turn,  imparted  to  the 
latter  a tincture  of  the  Grecian  language  and 
civility.26  By  this  judicious  and  liberal  system, 
so  unlike  to  that  pursued  by  their  countrymen 
in  other  parts  of  the  world,  the  followers  of 
Caranus  gradually  associated  with  the  warlike 
tribes  in  their  neighbourhood,  whom  it  would 
have  been  alike  impossible  for  them  to  extirpate 
or  to  enslave  ; and  the  same  generous  policy, 
being  embraced  by  their  descendants,  deserves 
to  be  regarded  as  the  primary  cause  of  Mace- 
donian greatness. 

Perdiccas,  the  first  of  that  name,  so  far 
eclipsed  the  fame  of  his  three  predecessors,  that 
he  is  accounted  the  founder  of  the  monarchy 
by  Herodotus27  and  Thucydides.26  His  history 
^ £ has  been  magnified  by  fable,  which 

713 *  *H6  ^aS  a^SO  °^scure(^  or  distorted  the 
actions  of  the  five  princes20  that  in- 
tervened between  him  and  Alexander  I.  who 
filled  the  Macedonian  throne  when  Xerxes  in- 
vaded Greece.30  Here  we  attain  historic 
ground.  Alexander,  as  related  above,31  took 
an  important  and  honourable  part  in  the  affairs 
of  Greece  and  Persia,  without  neglecting  the 
interest  of  his  own  kingdom,  which  he  extendr 
ed  to  the  river  Nessus  on  the  east,  and  to  the 
Axius  on  the  west.  His  son,  Perdiccas  II.  in- 
herited the  abilities  of  his  father,  without  in- 
heriting his  integrity.  During  the  Peloponne- 
sian war,  the  alliance  of  this  prince  formed  an 
object  of  important  concern  to  the  Athenians 
and  Lacedaemonians.  He  espoused  the  cause 
of  the  latter,  which  he  regarded  as  his  own,  be- 
cause the  Athenians,  who  had  occasionally  le- 
vied tribute  on  his  ancestors,32  were  then  mas- 
ters of  the  Greek  settlements  along  the  Mace- 
donian coast,  the  vicinity  of  which  naturally 
tempted  the  ambition  of  Perdiccas.  Under  the 
specious  pretence  of  enabling  Olynthus  and  the 
other  cities  of  Chalcidice  to  recover  their  inde- 
pendence, he  lent  his  aid  to  destroy  the  Athe- 


24  Arriaif  Exped.  Alexand.  1.  iv.  p.  83. 

25  4>lX.»  7T7T0V  filv  TTOClS'l,  Hp  * X X.£  I J>)  $ i «!T0  y IVOUf,  0T0U 

01  vrgoyovoi  Acyeog  eig  MxxcSoviuv  ou  Si  Sim 

*u«  vopu),  Mxx.tSovuiv  xg%ovTig  Sur eKsrxv.  Arrian,  1.  iv 
p.  86.  In  another  passage  of  the  same  book  ho  says,  the 
subjects  of  Macedon  had  more  liberty  than  the  citizens  of 
Greece. 

26  Demosthenes,  Arrian,  and  CurtiuB. 

27  Herodot.  1.  viii.  c.  cxxxvii. 

28  Thucydid.  1.  ii.  p.  168. 

29  Argacus  I.  Philip.  I.  iEropus  I.  Alcetas,  Amyntas  I. 
Justin.  1.  vii.  c.  ii. 

30  Herodot.  1.  v.  c.  xix.  31  Page  129. 

32  Thucydid.  ubi  supra,  et  Demosthenes,  passim. 


366 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


nian  influence  there,  expecting  to  establish  the 
Macedonian  in  its  stead.  But  this  design  failed 
of  success.  The  Olynthian  confederacy  was 
broken,  its  members  became  subject  to  Sparta, 
and  after  the  misfortunes  of  that  republic  had 
encouraged  the  Olynthians  to  resume  their 
freedom,  they  felt  themselves  sufficiently  pow- 
erful not  only  to  resist  the  encroachments  of 
Macedon,  but  to  make  considerable  conquests 
in  that  country.1 

Archelaus  I.  who  succeeded  to  the  throne, 
displayed  an  enlightened  policy,  far  more  bene- 
cial  to  his  kingdom  than  the  courage  of  Alex- 
ander, or  the  craft  of  Perdiccas.  Like  those 
„ princes,  Archelaus  was  ambitious  to 
416  ' 410  en^ar§e  dominions  (having  con- 
* quered  Pydna  and  other  towns  in 
the  delightful  region  of  Pieria;)2  but  his  main 
care  was  to  cultivate  and  improve  them.  He 
facilitated  communication  between  the  princi- 
pal towns  of  Macedon,  by  cutting  straight  roads 
through  most  parts  of  the  country;  he  built 
walls  and  places  of  strength  in  the  situations 
most  favourable  for  that  purpose;  encouraged 
agriculture  and  the  arts,  particularly  those  sub- 
servient to  war;  formed  magazines  of  arms; 
raised  and  disciplined  a considerable  body  of 
cavalry ; and,  in  a word,  added  more  to  the 
solid  grandeur  of  Macedon  than  had  been  done 
by  all  his  predecessors  together.3  Nor  was  he 
regardless  of  the  arts  of  peace.  His  palace  was 
adorned  by  the  works  of  Grecian  painters. 
Euripides  was  long  entertained  at  his  court; 
Socrates  was  earnestly  solicited  to  live  there  after 
the  example  of  this  philosophic  poet,  formed  by 
his  precepts,  and  cherished  by  his  friendship : 
men  of  merit  and  genius,  in  all  the  various  walks 
of  literature  and  science,  were  invited  to  reside 
in  Macedon,  and  treated  with  distinguished  re- 
gard by  a monarch  duly  attentive  to  promote  his 
own  glory  and  the  happiness  of  his  subjects.4 

^ q A reign  of  six  years  was  too  short 

405  ‘ 360  a Per*oc^  f°r  accomphshing  the  im- 
portant ends  which  Archelaus  had 
in  view.  By  his  death  the  prosperity  of  Mace- 
don was  interrupted  for  almost  half  a century, 
crowded  by  a succession  of  ten5  princes  or 
usurpers,  whose  history  forms  a perpetual  series 
of  crimes  and  calamities.  Amidst  these  disor- 
ders, the  sceptre  still  remained  in  the  family 
of  Hercules;  but  almost  every  prince  of  the 
blood  had  an  ambition  to  reign.  In  order  to  at- 
tain their  p urpose,  the  different  competitors  court- 


1 See  above,  c.  xxix.  p.  315,  et  seq. 

2 Diodor.  Sicul.  1.  Xiii.  c.  xvi. 

3 Thucydides  says,  “than  the  eight  kings  who  preceded 

him,”  counting  Perdiccas  for  the  first.  oi 

UcgS'ixy.ou  viogf  B xcriKsvg  ysvofeevog  rx  t vvv  ovrat 
*V  Tt|  u )X0j0/<>l<r£,  X5tl  0$0Vg  Eufluaj  ETE/tE,  xcti  rxWx 

iifxor/uifre  rare  xxtx  rov  ttoKs/xov  ettjt o»;,  xxi  otrKoig 
xxi  5Tt)  eeX.X.i)  yrxgx<rxtv*i  xgeiirir ovi  >)  £vfi7rxvTeg  oi  xKKoi 
fixnKeii  oxtio  oi  xvtov  yevo/xsvoi.  Tiuicydides,  p. 


4  Aristot.  Rhetor.  1.  ii.  c.  xxix.  Stobaeus  Sermon.  237. 


5 Their  names,  with  the 
usurpation,  are  as  follows : 


1 Orestes,  A.  C.  405 

2 ASropus  II.  402 

3 Archelaus  II.  394 

4 Amyntas  II  392 

5 Pausianas,  391 

Amyntas  II  390 

Perdiccas,  368 

Ptolemy,  367 

Perdiccas,  365 


dates  of  their  accession  or 

6 Argaeus  II.  A.  C.  385 
Amyntas  again  re- 


established, 383 

7 Alexander  TI.  372 

8 Perdiccas  III.  371 

9 Ptolemy,  370 

10  Amyntas,  360 


To  him  Philip  succeeded 
in  tha  same  year. 


[Chap. 

ed  the  assistance  of  the  Thracians,  of  the  Illy- 
rians, of  the  Thessalians,  of  the  Olynthian  con- 
federacy, of  Athens,  of  Sparta,  and  of  Thebes; 
and  each  of  those  powers  endeavoured  to  turn 
to  their  own  immediate  profit  the  dissensions 
in  Macedon.  Bardyllis,  an  active  and  daring 
chief,  who  by  his  abilities  in  acquiring,  and  his 
equity6  in  dividing  the  spoil,  had  risen  from  the 
condition  of  a private  robber  to  the  command 
of  the  Illyrian  tribes,  entered  Macedon  at  the 
head  of  a numerous  army,  dispossessed  Amyn- 

\ C 385  *as  ^at^ier  PhiflPi  and 

placed  Argaeus  on  the  throne,  who 
consented  to  become  the  tributary  of  his  bene- 
factor.7 The  Thracians  supported  the  title  of 
another  prince  named  Pausanias:  but  the  as- 
sistance of  Thessaly  and  Olynthus  enabled 
\ C °83  Amyntas  resume  the  govern- 
ment; the  Olynthians  refusing,  how- 
ever, to  surrender  several  places  of  importance 
which  Amyntas  had  entrusted  to  their  protec- 
tion, or  which  they  had  conquered  from  his 
competitor,  Amyntas  complained  to  Sparta,  and 
that  republic,  for  reasons  above8  related,  de- 
clared war  against  Olynthus,  and  reinstated  the 
Macedonian  king  in  full  possession  of  his  do- 
A C 380  m^n4°ns-  In  consequence  of  that 
event,  Amyntas  established,  and 
thenceforth  held,  his  court  at  Pella,  where  he 
enjoyed  several  years  of  tranquillity,  cultivating 
the  friendship  of  the  Lacedaemonians  and  Athe- 
nians. 

The  short  reign  of  his  son  Alexander  was 
disturbed  by  a fresh  invasion  of  the  Illyrians, 
from  whom  he  purchased  a precarious  peace.9 
He  left  two  brothers,  Perdiccas  and  Philip,  of 
whom  the  eldest  was  still  a minor.  Availing 
himself  of  their  youth  and  weakness,  Pausanias 
found  means  to  usurp  the  throne,  being  sup- 
ported not  only  by  the  Thracians,  but  by  a con- 
siderable body  of  Greek  mercenaries,  as  well  as 
by  a powerful  party  in  Macedon. 

A C 370  Iphicrates,  the  Athenian,  hap- 
pened at  this  critical  juncture  to  re- 
turn from  Amphipolis,  the  recovery  of  which- 
formed  the  main  object  of  his  expedition.  In 
former  journies  to  the  coast  of  Thrace,  he  had 
been  treated  with  distinguished  regard  by 
Amyntas,  whose  widow  Eurydice  now  craved 
the  protection  of  Iphicrates  for  the  sons  of  his 
friend.  This  princess  was  descended  from  the 
Bacchiadse,  the  noblest  family  of  Corinth,  who, 
rather  than  live  on  an  equality  with  their  fel- 
low citizens  in  that  republic,  had  become  the 
leaders  of  the  Lyncestas,  a barbarous  tribe  in 
habiting  the  most  western  district  of  Macedon. 
Eurydice  inherited  all  the  ambition  of  her  race, 
and  was  dintinguished  by  a bold  intriguing  spi-  , 
rit'o  still  more  than  by  her  beauty  and  accom- 
plishments. With  her  young  sons  she  suddenly 
appeared  before  Iphicrates,  in  the  supplicating 
form  of  calamity  and  woe ; presented  the  eldest 
to  his  hand,  placed  Philip,  the  younger,  on  his 
knee,  and  conjured  him,  by  “the  sincere  friend- 
ship which  Amyntas  had  ever  entertained  for 
Ashens  and  for  himself,  to  pity  their  tender 


6 Cicero  de  Offic.  1.  ii.  7 Diodor.  1.  xiv.  c.  xcii. 

8 See  c.  xxix.  p.  318. 

9 Diodorus  et  Justin,  nbi  supra. 

10  Justin.  1.  vii.  c.  iv 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


367 


XXXIII.] 

years,  oppressed  by  cruel  usurpation.”  The 
dignity  of  her  sorrow  prevailed  with  Iphicrates, 
who  respected  the  sacred  ties  of  hospitality, 
and  who  saw  the  advantage  that  might  accrue 
to  Athens  by  gaining  an  interest  in  Macedon. 
We  are  not  informed  by  what  means  he  esta- 
blished Perdiccas  on  the  throne.  The  revolu- 
tion was  effected  with  such  rapidity,1 1 that  we 
may  suppose  a sudden  insurrection  of  the  peo- 
ple, who,  on  important  emergencies,  were  ac- 
customed, as  in  the  heroic  ages,  to  assemble  in 
arms. 

. p During  the  minority  of  the  young 

’ * * prince,  the  kingdom  was  governed 

by  his  natural  brother  Ptolemy,  whose  ambi- 
tion, unsatisfied  with  a delegated  power,  openly 
aspired  to  reign.  This  usurper  (as  we  have  re- 
lated above)  was  dethroned  by  Pelopidas  and 
the  Thebans,  who  reinstated  Perdiccas  in  his 
dominions;  and  in  order  to  secure  the  depend- 
ence of  Macedon  on  Thebes,  carried  into  that 
city  as  hostages  thirty  Macedonian  youths,  and 
with  them  Philip,  the  younger  brother  of  the 
king. 

Perdiccas  seemed  proud  of  his  chain.  Elated 
with  the  protection  of  the  Thebans,  then  in  the 
height  of  their  prosperity,  he  forgot  the  grati- 
tude due  to  Iphicrates  and  the  Athenians ; dis- 
puted the  right  of  that  people  to  Amphipolis, 
which  had  been  acknowledged  by  the  general 
council  of  Greece;12  and  his  opposition  ren- 
dered fruitless  their  well-directed  endeavours 
to  recover  that  important  establishment.  The 
Athenians  found  an  avenger  in  Bardyllis  the 
Illyrian,  to  whom  Perdiccas  had  denied  the  tri- 
bute that  had  been  paid  by  his  predecessors 
Argaeus  and  Alexander.  Bardyllus  maintained 
his  claim  by  force  of  arms.  The  Macedonians 
met  him  in  the  field,  but  were  totally  defeated 
with  the  loss  of  four  thousand  men.13  Perdic- 
cas was  taken  prisoner,  and  soon  after  died  of 
his  wounds.  His  son  Amyntas  was  an  infant. 
Thebes  having  lost  her  pre-eminence  in  Greece, 
was  unable  to  protect  her  distant  allies.  Athens 
was  hostile,  and  Macedon,  surrounded  by  ene- 
mies on  every  side,  already  experienced  the  fury 
of  Barbarian  invaders. 

Not  only  the  Illyrians  and  Bardyllis,  who 
ravaged  the  west,  but  the  Pseonians,  a power- 
ful and  warlike  tribe,  having  received  some 
cause  of  offence  from  Perdiccas,  now  indulged 
their  revenge,  and  insulted  the  northern  frontier 
without  interruption  or  control.  The  Thra- 
cians still  supported  the  cause  of  Pausanias, 
whom  they  prepared  to  send  back  into  Mace- 
don at  the  head  of  a numerous  army.  Ptolemy 
was  dead ; but  Argaatis,  the  ancient  competitor 
of  king  Amyntas,  imboldened  by  the  victory 
of  the  Illyrians,  who  had  formerly  placed  him 
on  the  throne,  renewed  his  pretensions  to  that 
dignity;  and,  grown  old  in  intrigue,  easily  per- 
suaded the  Athenians,  by  the  hopes  of  recover- 
ing Amphipolis,  to  exert  themselves  in  his  fa- 
vour, especially  against  the  son  and  brother  of 
Perdiccas,  by  whose  insolence  and  ingratitude 
they  were  justly  provoked  and  disgusted.  Im- 


11  Cornel.  Nepos,  in  Iphicrat.  AEschin.  do  falsa  Lega- 
tione. 

12  Demosth.  de  falsa  Legat. 

13  Diodor.  1.  xvi.  sect  2. 


pelled  by  such  motives,  the  Athenians  launched 
their  fleet,  and  sailed  towards  the  coast  of  Ma- 
cedon, with  three  thousand  heavy-armed  men, 
commanded  by  Mantias.14 

Such  were  the  evils  which  threat- 
c/r  ened,  and  the  calamities  which  op- 
A ' C*  Pressec^  that  unfortunate  and  dis- 

* ’ ‘ tracted  kingdorp,  when  Philip  ap- 

peared, asserting,  unterrified,  the  rights  of  his 
infant  nephew,  against  two  candidates  for  the 
throne,  and  four  formidable  armies.  A prince 
of  less  courage  than  Philip  would  have  shrunk 
from  a design  seemingly  desperate  and  imprac- 
ticable; and  had  courage  been  his  principal 
virtue,  he  would  have  only  heightened  the  dis- 
orders which  he  hoped  to  remedy.15.  But  on 
this  emergency,  the  young  Macedonian  (for  he 
was  only  in  his  twenty-third  year16)  displayed 
those  extraordinary  abilities  which  distinguish 
his  reign,  and  render  it  the  most  interesting  spec- 
tacle that  history  can  present  to  those  who  are 
delighted  with  surveying,  not  the  vulgar  revo- 
lutions of  force  and  fortune,  but  the  active  ener- 
gies and  resources  of  a vigorous  and  compre- 
hensive mind.  Such  was  the  obscurity  in 
which  his  merit  had  hitherto  lain  concealed 
from  the  public,  that  historians17  disagree  as  to 
the  place  of  his  residence,  when  he  was  inform- 
ed of  the  defeat  and  death  of  his  brother  Per- 
diccas. From  the  age  of  fifteen  he  had  lived 
chiefly  in  Thebes,  in  the  family,  and  under  the 
direction  of  Epaminondas,18  whose  lessons  and 
example  could  not  fail  to  excite,  in  a kindred 
mind,  the  emulation  of  excellence,  and  the 
ardour  of  patriotism.19  It  is  probable  that, 
agreeably  to  the  custom  of  Greece  and  Rome, 
where  the  youth  alternately  frequented  the 
school  and  the  camp,  and  might  sometimes  find 
a school  of  philosophy  in  the  tent  of  a general, 
that  Philip  accompanied  the  Theban  hero  in 
many  of  his  military  expeditions.  It  is  certain 
that,  attended  suitably  to  his  rank,  he  visited 
the  principal  republics  of  Greece,  whose  insti- 
tutions in  peace  and  war  he  examined  with  a 
sagacity  far  superior  to  his  years.20  The  tac- 
tics of  the  Lacedsemonians  were  the  first  new 
establishment  which  he  introduced  into  Mace- 
don. Nor  was  the  improvement  of  his  know- 
ledge the  only  fruit  of  his  travels.  The  brother 
of  a king  found  an  easy  access  to  whosoev  er  he 
had  an  interest  to  know  and  cultivate.  Even 
in  Athens,  then  hostile  to  Thebes,  and  naturally 
unfavourable  to  a pupil  of  Epaminondas,  Philip 
acquired  the  friendship  and  esteem  of  Plato,21 
Isocrates,22  and  Aristotle;23  and  the  early  con- 


14  Diodorus,  ubi  supra. 

15  Olivier  Vie  de  Philippe,  p.  47. 

16  Comp.  Diodor.  p.  510.  et  Justin.  1.  ix.  c.  viii. 

17  Diodorus  places  him  in  Thebes;  Athenams,  1.  ii.  p. 
506,  in  Macedon ; and  adds,  Ai*Tfj<p!uv  Ss  ivtxvSx  $wx~ 
ftiv , <oj  XTrsSxve  TltgStxxx^,  s£  troi^tou,  Svvxfieuis  vrxg- 
%ou<r>t;,  nwrsrt  to<;  irg xv/xxa-i.  Words  which  admira- 
bly correspond  to  the  rapid  motions  of  Philip  after  the 
death  of  Perdiccas. 

18  Plutarch,  in  Pclopida. 

19  Plutarch  speaks  with  the  partiality  of  a Pccotian  for 
Epaminondas,  and  the  resentment  of  a native  of  Chceronaca 
against  Philip.  See  Plutarch,  in  Pelopid. 

20  Plutarch,  in  Alexand.  Athcnirus,  1.  xi.  p.  506. 

21  Athemeus,  1.  xi.  AElian,  1.  iv.  c.  xix. 

22  Isocratis  Epistolse,  et  Oratio  ad  Philipp. 

123  Aristotle  at  this  time  lived  in  the  Academy  with  Plato, 
where,  most  probably,  Philip  first  saw  him.  Dionys.  Hali- 
carnas.  Epist.  ad.  Ammsum. 


368 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


nection  which  he  formed  with  the  principal 
leaders  of  Athens,  and  the  neighbouring  repub- 
lics, contributed,  perhaps,  in  no  small  degree, 
to  the  success  of  his  future  designs.1 

His  seasonable  appearance  in  Macedon,  after 
the  defeat  and  death  of  Perdiccas,  suddenly 
changed  the  fortune  of  that  seemingly  devoted 
kingdom.  Yet  our  admiration  of  Philip  ought 
not  to  make  us  overlook  the  favourable  circum- 
stances which  seconded  his  abilities,  and  con- 
spired to  promote  his  success.  The  places  of 
strength  built  by  Archelaus  furnished  a secure 
retreat  to  the  remains  of  Perdiccas’s  army  ; the 
Macedonians,  though  conquered,  were  not  sub- 
dued; they  had  considerable  garrisons  in  the 
fortresses  and  walled  towns  scattered  over  the 
kingdom  ;2  their  whole  forces  had  not  been 
engaged  in  the  unfortunate  battle  with  the  Illy- 
rians ;3  and  those  fierce  invaders,  impatient  of 
delay,  and  only  solicitous  for  plunder,  having 
ravaged  the  open  country,  returned  home  to 
enjoy  the  fruits  of  their  violence  and  rapine. 
They  probably  intended  soon  to  assault  Macedon 
with  increased  numbers,  and  to  complete  their 
devastations ; but  they  seem  to  have  been  alike 
incapable  to  concert  or  to  pursue  any  permanent 
plan  of  conquest ; and  being  distinguished,  as 
historians  relate,  by  their  blooming  complexions, 
active  vigour,  and  longevity,4  they  were  not 
less  distinguished  by  that  irregular  and  capri- 
cious mode  of  acting,  and  that  inattention  to 
remote  consquences,  which  characterise  the 
manners  of  Barbarians. 

The  warriors  of  Pseonia  and  Thrace5  were 
less  formidable  by  their  numbers,  and  equally 
contemptible  for  their  ignorance  and  indocility. 
In  early  times,  the  Paeonians  indeed  had  been 
regarded  as  a tribe  less  savage,  and  more  con- 
siderable5 than  their  Macedonian  neighbours ; 
but  the  former  had  remained  stationary,  in  the 
rudeness  of  their  primitive  state,  while  the 
latter  had  been  improved  by  a Grecian  colony, 
and  by  frequent  communication  and  intercourse 
with  the  Grecian  republics.  Of  the  Thracians 
we  have  had  occasion  to  speak  in  the  preceding 
parts  of  this  work.  The  destructive  ravages  of 
Seuthes7  represent  the  ordinary  condition  of 
that  unsettled  and  inhospitable  country,  some- 
times united  under  one  chief,  more  frequently 
divided  among  many,  whose  mutual  hostilities 
banished  agriculture,  industry,  and  every  useful 
art.  Exclusive  of  the  Grecian  settlements  on 
the  coast,  Thrace  contained  not  any  city,  nor 
even  any  considerable  town.  The  Barbarian 
Cotys,  who  was  dignified  with  the  title  of  king, 
led  a wandering  life,  encamping  on  the  banks  of 
rivers  with  his  flocks  and  followers.8  War 
and  pasturage  formed  the  only  sources  of  his 
grandeur,  and  even  the  only  means  of  his  sub- 
sistence. 

Such  were  the  first  enemies  with  whom 
Philip  had  to  contend.  Their  own  capricious 
unsteadiness  delivered  him  from  the  Illyrians. 


1 Dcmosthen.  passim.  2 Thucyd.  1.  xi.  p.  168. 

3 Athenaeus,  1.  xi.  p.  506. 

4 Lucian,  in  Macrobiis,  et  Cornel.  Alexand.  apud  Plinium, 
lib.  vii.  cap.  clvii. 

5 Cornel.  Nepos  in  Iphicrat.  Xenoph.  Anab.l.  vii.  p.393. 

6 Hippocrat.  de  Epidem. 

7 See  p.  296,  et  seq. 

8 Athenaeus,  1.  xii.  p.  331. 


[Chaf. 

To  the  Paeonians,  who  ravaged  the  north,  he 
either  sent  a deputation,  or  applied  in  person  ; 
and  partly  by  bribes,  partly  by  artful  promises 
and  flattery,  persuaded  the  invaders  to  retire. 
The  same  arts  prevailed  with  the  selfish  king  of 
Thrace,9  whose  avarice  readily  sacrificed  the 
cause  of  Pausanias,  while  Philip  thought  the 
remaining  wealth  of  Macedon  usefully  consum- 
ed in  removing  those  barbarous  foes,  that  he 
might  resist,  with  undivided  strength,  the  more 
formidable  invasion  of  Argaeus  and  the  Athe- 
nians. 

The  Athenian  fleet  already  an- 
c/T  ehored  before  the  harbour  of  Me- 
A P tk011®  » Argaeus,  with  his  numerous 

followers,  had  encamped  in  the 
province  of  Pieria  ; and  their  united  forces  pre- 
pared to  march  northward  to  Edessa,  or  iEgae. 
the  ancient  capital  of  Macedon,  where  they  ex- 
pected to  be  joined  by  a powerful  party,  whom 
fear  or  inclination  would  bring  to  the  standard 
of  the  banished  king.  The  Macedonians  who 
adhered  to  the  interest  of  Perdiccas,  or  rather 
of  his  infant  son,  had  been  dispirited  by  the  re- 
cent victory  of  the  Illyrians,  and  the  misfortunes 
consequent  on  that  event.  But  the  manly  ex- 
hortations, and  undaunted  deportment  of  Philip, 
roused  them  from  their  despair.  They  admired 
the  dexterity  with  which  he  had  disarmed  the 
resentment  of  the  Thracians  and  Paeonians. 
His  graceful  person,  insinuating  address,  and 
winning  affability,  qualities  which  he  possessed 
in  a very  uncommon  degree,19  gained  the  affec- 
tions of  the  Macedonians,  who  either  recollected, 
or  were  studiously  reminded  of,  a prophecy,11 
that  announced  great  glory  to  their  nation  under 
the  reign  of  the  son  of  Amyntas.  In  an  as- 
sembly held  at  iEgae,  they  exclaimed,  with  one 
consent,  “ This  is  the  man  whom  the  gods  point 
out  as  the  founder  of  the  Macedonian  greatness. 
The  dangerous  condition  of  the  times  admits  not 
of  an  infant  reign.  Let  us  obey  the  celestial 
voice,  and  entrust  the  sceptre  to  hands  alike 
worthy  to  hold,  and  able  to  defend  it.”12  This 
proposal  seemed  not  extraordinary  in  a country 
which  had  been  long  accustomed  to  interrup- 
tions in  the  lineal  order  of  succession.  Amyn- 
tas was  set  aside,  and  Philip,  who  had  hitherto 
possessed  only  the  delegated  power  of  regent, 
was  invested  with  the  royal  title  and  authority.13 

While  all  ranks  of  men  were  thus  animated 
with  affectionate  admiration  of  /their  young 
king,  the  obsolete  claims  of  Argaeus  could  only 
be  maintained  by  arms.  Attended  by  his  Athe- 
nian allies,  he  marched  towards  Edessa  ; but 
that  city  shut  its  gates  against  him.  Dispirited 
by  this  repulse,  he  made  no  farther  attempts  to 
gain  admission  into  any  of  the  Macedonian 


9 Diodor.  Sicul.  1.  xvi.  sect.  3.  Horace  alludes  to  these 

events : 

diffidit  urbium 

Portas  vir  Macedo,  et  submit  ccmulos 
Reges  muneribus.  Lib.  iii.  Ode  16. 

10  ^Slschin.  de  falsa  Legatione.  % 

11  In  the  Sibylline  verses  preserved  in  Pausanias  (in 
Achaic.)  Philip  is  named  as  the  author  of  the  Macedonian 
greatness,  and  the  destruction  of  the  kingdom  is  foretold 
under  another  Philip.  These  verses,  though  evidently  com- 
posed after  the  event,  serve  to  confirm  the  fact,  that  the  su- 
perstition of  the  multitude  was  wrought  upon  for  the  pur- 
poses of  Philip.  Justin.  1.  vii.  c.  vi. 

12  Ibib.  idem. 

13  Diodorus,  1.  xvi.  sect.  3* 


XXXIII.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


369 


cities,  but  directed  his  course  backward  to  Me- 
thone.  Philip,  who  had  now  collected  sufficient 
strength  to  take  the  field,  harassed  his  retreat, 
cut  his  rear  to  pieces,  and  defeated  him  in  a 
general  engagement,  in  which  Argaeus  himself 
fell,  with  the  flower  of  his  army.  The  rest, 
whether  Greeks  or  Barbarians,  were  made 
prisoners  of  war.14 

It  was  on  this  occasion  that  Philip  first  dis- 
played that  deep  and  artful  policy,  which,  in  the 
course  of  a long  reign, gained  him  such  a power- 
ful ascendant  over  the  passions  of  other  men, 
and  enabled  him  uniformly  to  govern  his  own 
by  the  interest  of  his  ambition.  In  the  midst 
of  prosperity,  his  proud  and  lofty  spirit  must 
have  been  highly  provoked  by  the  Athenians,  as 
well  as  by  the  followers  of  Argaeus  ; and  the 
barbarous  maxims  and  practices  which  prevailed 
in  that  age,  left  him  at  full  liberty  to  wreak 
his  vengeance  on  the  unhappy  prisoners  of  both, 
who  had  fallen  into  his  hands.  But  the  interest 
of  Philip  required  him  rather  to  soothe  than  to 
irritate  the  people  of  Athens,  and  to  obtain  by 
good  offices  (what  he  could  not  command  by 
force)  the  confidence  of  his  Macedonian  sub- 
jects. The  captives  of  the  latter  nation  were 
called  into  his  presence,  rebuked  with  gentleness 
and  humanity,  admitted  to  swear  allegiance  to 
their  new  master,  and  promiscuously  distribut- 
ed in  the  body  of  his  army.  The  Athenian 
prisoners  were  treated  in  a manner  still  more 
extraordinary.15  Instead  of  demanding  any  ran- 
som for  their  persons,  he  restored  their  baggage 
unexamined,  and  entertained  them  at  his  table 
with  such  condescending  hospitality,  that  they 
returned  home,  full  of  admiration  for  the  young 
king,  and  deeply  persuaded  of  his  attachment 
and  respect  for  their  republic.16 

They  had  only  time  to  blaze  forth 
c^2  P*  the  praises  of  Philip,  when  his  am- 
AC359  ^assadors  arrived  at  Athens.17  He 
knew  that  the  loss  of  Amphipolis 
principally  excited  the  resentment  of  the  Athe- 
nians ; he  knew  that  the  interest  of  Macedon 
required  that  resentment  to  be  appeased.  Im- 
pressed with  these  ideas,  he  renounced  all  ju- 
risdiction over  Amphipolis,  which  was  formerly 
declared  a free  and  independent  city,  subject 
only  to  the  government  of  its  own  equitable 
laws. *8.  This  measure,  together  with  the  dis- 
tinguished treatment  of  the  Athenian  prisoners, 
insured  the  success  of  his  embassy.  An  ancient 
treaty  was  renewed,  that  had  long  subsisted  be- 
tween his  father  Amyntas  and  the  Athenians. 
That  capricious  and  unsteady  people,  not  less 
susceptible  of  gratitude,  than  prone  to  anger, 
were  thus  lulled  into  repose,  at  a time  when 
Fortune  having  placed  them  at  the  head  of 
Greece,  both  their  present  power  and  ancient 


glory  urged  them  to  take  the  front  of  the  battle 
against  Philip.  Confiding  in  the  insidious 
treaty  with  that  prince,  they  engaged  in  a ruin- 
ous war  with  their  allies  ;19  and  ceased,  during 
several  years,  to  make  any  opposition  to  the 
ambitious  designs  of  the  Macedonian. 

OlvmD  The  y°unS  klng  having  given 

CXJ 2 ^ ' such  illustrious  proofs  of  his  abili- 

A C 359  l*es  *n  ne?otiatlori  anh  war,  availed 
himself  of  the  affectionate  admira- 
tion of  his  subjects  to  establish,  during  a season 
of  tranquillity,  such  institutions  as  might  main- 
tain and  extend  his  own  power,  and  confirm  the 
solid  grandeur  of  Macedon.  The  laws  and 
maxims  which  prevailed  in  the  heroic  ages, 
and  which,  as  we  have  already  observed,  had 
been  early  introduced  into  that  kingdom,  cir- 
cumscribed the  royal  authority  within  very  nar- 
row bounds.  The  chiefs  and  nobles,  especially 
in  the  more  remote  provinces,  regarded  them- 
selves as  the  rivals  and  equals  of  their  sovereign. 
In  foreign  war  they  followed  his  standard,  but 
they  often  shook  his  throne  by  domestic  sedi- 
tion ; and,  amidst  the  scanty  materials  for  ex- 
plaining the  internal  state  of  Macedon  in  an- 
cient times,  we  may  discover  several  instances  in 
which  they  disavowed  their  allegiance,  and  as- 
sumed independent  government  over  consider- 
able districts  of  the  country.20  The  moment 
of  glory  and  success  seemed  the  most  favourable 
for  extinguishing  this  dangerous  spirit,  and 
quashing  the  proud  hopes  of  the  nobles.  In 
this  design  Philip  proceeded  with  that  artful 
policy  which  characterizes  his  reign.  From  the 
bravest  of  the  Macedonian  youth,  he  chose  a 
select  body  of  companions,21  who,  being  distin- 
guished by  honourable  appellations,  and  enter- 
tained at  the  royal  table,  attended  the  king’s 
person  in  war  and  in  hunting.  Their  intimacy 
with  the  sovereign,  which  was  regarded  as  a 
proof  of  their  merit,  obliged  them  to  superior 
diligence  in  all  the  severe  duties  of  a military 
life.22  The  noble  youth,  animated  with  the 
hope  of  glory,  vied  with  each  other  to  gain  ad- 
mission into  this  distinguished  order;  and  while, 
on  one  hand,  they  served  as  hostages23  for  the 
allegiance  of  their  families,  they  formed,  on  the 
other,  a useful  seminary  of  future  generals,24 
who,  after  conquering  for  Philip  and  Alexander, 
at  length  conquered  for  themselves,  and  divided 
the  spoils  of  the  ancient  world. 

It  is  ignorantly  said  by  some  writers,25  that 
Philip,  in  the  first  year  of  his  reign,  invented 
the  phalanx,  a body  of  six  thousand  men,  armed 
with  short  swords,  fit  either  for  cutting  or 
thrusting ; strong  bucklers,  four  feet  in  length 
and  two  and  a half  in  breadth  ; and  pikes  four- 
teen cubits  long,  which  usually  arranged  sixteen 
deep,  formed  the  main  battle  of  the  Macedo- 


14  Diodorus,  1.  xvi.  s.  3.  ct  Demosth.  in  Aristocrat. 

15  The  fair  side  of  Philip’s  character  is  described  by 
Diodor.  1.  xvi.  p.  510,  et  seq.  and  559.  By  Just.  1.  ix.  c.  viii. 
The  most  disadvantageous  description  of  him  is  given  by 
Demosthenes,  passim,  and  by  Athenieus,  1.  iv.  c.  xix.  1.  vi. 
c.  xv li.  et  I.  x.  c.  x.  Cicero  seems  not  to  have  regarded  the 
assertions  of  Demosthenes,  when,  in  speaking  of  Philip  and 
Alexander,  he  says,  “ Alter  semper  magnus,  alter  srepe  tur- 
pissimus.”  But  fhe  artificial  character  of  Philip,  which 
varied  with  his  interest,  merits  neither  the  panegyrics  nor 
invectives  too  liberally  bestowed  on  it. 

16  Demosthenes  in  Aristocrat.  17  Ibid. 

18  Polysen.  Stratag.  I.  iv.  c.  17. 

3 A 


19  See  o.  xxxii.  p.  351,  et  seq. 

20  Strabo,  1.  vii.  p.  326.  Xenoph.  TIist.  Grmc.  1.  v. 

21  Arrian,  et  j'F.lian.  22  ^Elinn,  i.  xiv.  c.  49. 

23  Arrian  says,  “ raiv  iv  tjXsi  MxxsJovoov  row;  jrttiJ'ee;,” 
“ tho  sons  of  men  in  office;”  which  well  agrees  with  the 
idea  of  their  being  hostages  for  the  fidelity  of  their  parents. 
He  also  ascribes  the  institution  to  Philip.  Ex  duXiwjrow 
tfSn  xotSeo-Tsxo?.  Arrian.  1.  iv.  p.  89. 

24  Curtius,  1.  viii.  c.  C. 

25  Diodorus  Siculus,  1.  xvi.  s.  3,  and  all  the  Roman 
writers  of  Greek  history.  It  was  natural  for  the  Romans, 
who  began  to  know  Greece  and  Macedon  almost  at  the 
same  time,  and  who  found  the  phalanx  most  complete  in 
the  latter,  to  suppose  it  invented  in  that  country. 


370 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


mans.  But  this  is  nothing  different  from  the 
armour  and  arrangement  which  had  always 
prevailed  among  the  Greeks,  and  which  Philip 
adopted  in  their  most  perfect  form  ; nor  is  there 
reason  to  think  that  a prince,  who  knew  the 
danger  of  changing  what  the  experience  of  ages 
had  approved,  made  any  alteration  in  the  wea- 
pons or  tactics  of  that  people.1  His  attention 
was  more  judiciously  directed  to  procure,  in 
sufficient  abundance,  arms,  horses,  and  other 
necessary  instruments  of  war;  in  reviewing  and 
exercising  his  troops;  and  in  accustoming  them 
to  that  austere  and  laborious  life,2  which  is  the 
best  preparation  for  the  field. 

~ The  military  resources  which  his 

P*  activity  had  provided,  his  ambition 
C?'r‘  c,-o  did  not  allow  to  remain  long  unem- 
° ' ployed.  The  death  of  Agis,  the 
most  warlike  chieftain,  or,  as  he  is  called  by  a 
historian,3  king  of  the  Paeonians,  drew  Philip 
into  the  field,  to  revenge  recent  injuries  which 
those  Barbarians  had  inflicted  on  Macedon. 
Among  a people  where  the  laws  of  peace  or  war 
are  neglected  or  unknown,  almost  every  thing 
depends  on  the  precarious  character  of  their 
leaders.  Deprived  of  the  valour  of  Agis,  the 
Paeonians  lost  all  hopes  of  defence.  Philip 
overran  their  country  without  resistance  ; car- 
ried off  slaves  and  plunder ; imposed  a tribute 
on  their  chiefs ; took  hostages ; and  reduced 
Paeonia  to  an  absolute  dependence  on  Macedon. 

It  is  probable  that,  according  to  the  practice 
of  the  age,  he  permitted  or  required  a certain 
numbqr  of  the  vanquished  to  follow  his  standard ; 
but  the  Paeonians  were  no  sooner  reduced,  than 
Philip,  to  whom  all  seasons  seemed  alike  pro- 
per for  war,  undertook  a winter’s  campaign 
against  Bardyllis  and  the  Illyrians,  the  heredi- 
tary enemies  of  his  family  and  kingdom.  He 
marched  towards  the  frontier  of  Illyria4  at  the 
head  of  ten  thousand  foot  and  six  hundred 
horse,  and,  before  entering  the  country,  animat- 
ed the  resentment  and  valour  of  his  troops  by 
a military  oration,  after  the  custom  of  the  Geeks, 
whose  manners  he  seemed,  on  every  occasion, 
ambitious  to  imitate.  Indignation  of  past  in- 
juries, the  honour  of  his  subjects,  and  the  glory 
of  his  crown  might  be  topics  proper  to  influ- 
ence the  Macedonian  soldiers,5  who  could  not 
fully  enter  into  the  more  refined  motives  of  their 
sovereign.  Illyria  had  been  extended  on  the 


1 The  improvement  in  the  countermarch,  to  which  Philip 
gave  the  appearance  of  advancing,  instead  of  retreating, 
mentioned  by  iEIian  in  his  tactics,  c.  xxviii.  was  borrowed, 
as  this  author  tells  us,  from  the  Lacedaemonians.  If  Philip 
increased  this  phalanx,  usually  less  numerous,  to  six  thou- 
sand men,  this  was  far  from’an  improvement ; and  the  latter 
kings  of  Macedon,  who  swelled  it  to  sixteen  thousand,  only 
rendered  that  order  of  battle  more  unwieldy  and  inconve- 
nient. The  highest  perfection  of  Grecian  tactics  is  to  be 
found  in  Xenophon’s  expedition.  See  c.  xxvi.  p.  289,  et 
seq.  See  also  Polyb.  1.  xvii.  p.  764.  et  Liv.  I.  xliv.  c.  40. 

2 Polyaenus,  1.  iv.  c.  3.  Fronlin.  Strat.  1.  iv.  c.  1. 

3 Diodorus,  1.  xvi.  sect  4. 

4 The  Greek  name  of  this  country  is  iKKvgi?,  but  more 
commonly  o»  Ixx.ue«oi,  from  its  inhabitants.  Vid.  Arrian, 
1.  i.  passim.  The  Latin  name  is  Illyricum ; most  English 
writers  of  ancient  history  use  Illyria , probably  from  the 
French  lllyrie.  The  Greek  IhKvg  t;  is  described  by  Strabo, 
1.  vii.  p.  317.  It  comprehended  the  eastern  shore  of  the 
Hadriatic,  between  Epirus  and  Istria.  The  Latin  Illyri- 
eum  had  a signification  far  more  extensive.  See  Gibbon’s 
History,  vol.  i.  p.  27. 

5 The  heads  of  the  speech  are  given,  indirectly,  in  the 

fragments  of  Tbeopompus. 


|Ch*  . 

east,  to  the  prejudice  of  Macedon,  which  it  to- 
tally excluded  from  the  excellent  harbours  on 
the  Hadriatic.6  This  was  an  important  con- 
sideration to  a prince,  who  seems  to  have  early 
meditated  the  raising  of  a naval  power.  Be- 
sides this,  it  was  impossible  for  Philip  to  under- 
take with  safety  the  other  measures  which  he 
had  in  view,  should  he  leave  his  kingdom  ex- 
posed to  the  predatory  incursions  of  a neigh- 
bouring enemy,  who,  unless  they  feared  Mace- 
don, must  always  be  formidable  to  that  coun- 
try. Directed  by  such  solid  principles  of  policy, 
rather  than  governed  by  resentment,  or  allured 
by  the  splendour  of  victory,  Philip  proceeded 
forward,  with  the  caution  necessary  to  be  ob- 
served in  a hostile  territory.  After  a fruitless 
negotiation,  Bardyllis  met  him  in  the  field  with 
an  adequate  body  of  infantry,  but  with  only 
four  hundred  horse.  The  precise  scene  of  the 
engagement  is  unknown.  The  Macedonian 
phalanx  attaked  the  Illyrian  column7  in  front, 
while  the  targeteers  and  light-armed  troops 
galled  its  flanks,  and  the  cavalry  harassed  its 
rear.  The  Illyrians,  thus  surrounded  on  every 
side,  were  crushed  between  two  opposite  as- 
saults, without  having  an  opportunity  to  exert 
their  full  strength.8  Their  resistance,  however, 
must  have  been  vigorous,  since  seven  thousand 
were  left  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  with  them 
their  gallant  leader  Bardyllis,  who  fell,  at  the 
age  of  ninety,  fighting  bravely  on  horseback. 
The  loss  of  their  experienced  chief,  and  of 
the  flower  of  their  youthful  warriors,  broke  the 
strength  and  courage  of  the  Illyrian  tribes,  who 
sent  a deputation  to  Philip,  humbly  craving 
peace,  and  submitting  their  fortune  to  the  will 
of  the  conqueror.  Philip  granted  them  the 
same  terms9  which  he  had  lately  imposed  on 
the  Paeonians.  That  part  of  their  country 
which  lies  east  of  the  lake  Lychnidus  he  joined 
to  Macedon;  and  probably  built  a town  and 
settled  a colony  on  the  side  of  the  lake,  which 
watered  a fertile  country,  and  abounded  in 
different  kinds  of  fish,  highly  esteemed  by  the 
ancients.  The  town  and  lake  of  Lychnidus 
were  fifty  miles  distant  from  the  Ionian  sea; 
but  such  was  the  ascendant  that  the  arms  and 
policy  of  Philip  acquired  over  his  neighbours, 
that  the  inhabitants  of  the  intermediate  district 
soon  adopted  the  language  and  manners  of 


6 Strabo  says,  c s.-r»vr»  tov  lKKvgtxcv  (soilicet  z*eov) 
tr$o$gx  sv\if£svov  s ivxi ; and  adds,  that  the  shore  of  Illyria 
is  as  abundant,  as  the  opposite  coast  of  Italy  is  defective, 
in  good  harbours.  Strabo,  1.  viii. 

7 The  Illyrians  were  drawn  up  in  the  order  of  battle 
called  7rx.iv5»3v,  from  jr\iv3oj,  a brick  ; which  clearly  points 
out  its  form. 

8 Frontinus  Stratag.  1.  ii.  c.  3. 

9 It  should  seem  from  Diodorus,  that  the  Illyrians  had 
entertained  the  same  superstitious  terror  of  neglecting  the 
interment  of  the  dead,  which  prevailed  among  the  Greeks. 
Yet  Diodorus,  perhaps,  only  used  a privilege  too  common 
among  historians,  of  transferring  their  own  feelings  to  those 
concerning  whom  they  write.  He  says,  that  Philip  “ restored 
their  dead,  and  erected  a trophy.”  Pausanias  (in  Boeotic.) 
denies  that  either  Philip  or  his  son  Alexander  ever  erected 
any  of  those  monuments  of  victory;  which  practice,  he 
says,  was  contrary  to  a Macedonian  maxim,  established  as 
early  as  the  time  of  Caranus,  when  a lion  having  over- 
turned one  of  his  trophies,  the  wise  founder  of  the  monar- 
chy regarded  this  event  as  a warning  to  forbear  raising 
them  in  future.  But  the  medals  of  Philip  and  Alexander, 
of  which  the  reverse  is  sometimes  charged  with  trophies, 
refute  the  assertion  of  Pausanias ; which  is  likewise  con- 
tradicted by  Arrian,  Curtius,  and  all  the  writers  of  the  life, 
or  expedition,  of  Alexander. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


371 


XXXIII.] 

their  conquerors;  and  their  territory,  hitherto 
unconnected  with  any  foreign  power,  sunk  into 
such  an  absolute  dependence  on  Macedon,  that 
many  ancient  geographers  considered  it  as  a 
province  of  that  country. 

Having  settled  the  affairs  of  Illy- 
* ' ria,  Philip  returned  home,  not  to 
A C 357  enJ°y  sweets  °f  victory  and  re- 
pose, but  to  pursue  more  important 
and  more  arduous  designs  than  those  which  he 
had  hitherto  carried  on  with  such  signal  suc- 
cess. He  had  secured  and  extended  the  north- 
ern and  western  frontier  of  Macedon ; but  the 
rich  southern  shores,  chiefly  inhabited  by 
Greeks,  presented  at  once  a more  tempting 
prize,  and  a more  formidable  enemy.  The  con- 
federacy of  Olynthus,  having  thrown  off  the 
yoke  of  Sparta,  had  become  more  powerful 
than  ever.  It  could  send  into  the  field  ten  thou- 
sand heavy-armed  men,  and  a large  body  of 
well-disciplined  cavalry.  Most  towns  of  the 
Chalcidice  had  become  its  allies  or  subjects; 
and  this  populous  and  wealthy  province,  toge- 
ther with  Pangaeus  on  the  right,  and  Pieria  on 
the  left,  the  cities  of  both  which  were  either 
independent,  or  subject  to  the  Athenians,  form- 
ed a barrier  sufficient  not  only  to  guard  the 
Grecian  states  against  Macedon,  but  even  to 
threaten  the  safety  of  that  kingdom.  Every 
motive  concurred  to  direct  the  active  policy  of 
Philip  towards  acquisitions  immediately  neces- 
sary in  themselves,  and  essential  to  the  comple- 
tion of  his  remote  purposes.  In  the  course  of 
twenty  years  he  accomplished  his  designs,  and 
conquered  Greece;  often  varying  his  means, 
never  changing  his  end;  and  notwithstanding 
the  circumstances  and  events  that  continually 
thwarted  his  ambition,  we  behold  the  opening 
and  gradual  progress  of  a vast  plan,  every  step 
in  which  paved  the  way  for  that  which  followed, 
till  the  whole  ended  in  the  most  signal  triumph, 
perhaps,  ever  attained  by  human  prudence, 
over  courage  and  fortune. 

The  importance  of  Olynthus  and  Chalcidice 
could  not  divert  the  sagacity  of  Philip  from 
Amphipolis,  which  he  regarded  as  a more  neces- 
sary, though  less  splendid,  conquest.  The  pos- 
session of  Amphipolis,  which  would  connect 
Macedon  with  the  sea,  and  secure  to  that  king- 
dom many  commercial  advantages,  opened  a 
road  to  the  woods  and  mines  of  mount  Pangseus, 
the  former  of  which  was  so  essential  to  the 
raising  of  a naval  power,  and  the  latter  to  the 
forming  and  keeping  on  foot  a sufficient  military 
force.  The  place  itself  Philip  in  the  beginning 
of  his  reigrthad  declared  independent,  to  avoid 
a rupture  with  the  Athenians,  who  still  asserted 
their  pretensions  to  their  ancient  colony.  But 
their  measures  to  regain  Amphipolis  had  hither- 
to been  rendered  ineffectual  by  the  caprice  or 
perfidy  of  Charidemus,  a native  of  Euboea,  who, 
from  the  common  level  of  a soldier  of  fortune, 
had  risen  to  the  command  of  a considerable  body 
of  mercenaries,  frequently  employed  by  the  in- 
dolence and  licentiousness  of  the  Athenians,  a 
people  extremely  averse  both  to  the  fatigue  and 
restraint  of  personal  service.  They  determined, 


10  Strabo,  1.  vii.  p.  327. 


however,  to  renew  their  attempts  for  recovering 
their  dominion,  while  the  Amphipolitans,  having 
tasted  the  sweets  of  liberty,  prepared  to  main- 
tain their  independence. 

In  this  posture  of  affairs,  the  hostile  designs 
of  Philip,  which  all  his  artifice  had  not  been  able 
to  conceal  from  the  suspicious  jealousy  of  the 
new  republic,  alarmed  the  magistrates  of  Am- 
phipolis, and  obliged  them  to  seek  protection 
from  the  Olynthians,  who  readily  admitted  them 
into  their  confederacy.  Imboldened  by  this 
alliance,  they  set  at  defiance  the  menaces  of 
their  neighbouring,  as  well  as  of  their  more  dis- 
tant, enemy ; and  their  imprudent  insolence 
readily  furnished  Philip  with  specious  grounds 
of  hostility.  The  Olynthians  perceived  that 
the  indignation  of  this  prince  must  soon  break 
forth  into  action,  and  overwhelm  the  Amphi- 
politans; while  they  themselves  might  be  in- 
volved in  the  ruin  of  their  new  confederate. 
To  anticipate  this  danger,  they  sent  ambassa- 
dors to  Athens,  requesting  an  alliance  with  that 
republic  against  the  natural  enemy  of  both 
states,  and  an  enemy  whose  successful  activity 
rendered  him  a just  object  of  terror. 

This  alliance,  had  it  taken  place,  must  have 
given  a fatal  blow  to  the  rising  greatness  of 
Macedon,  which  as  yet  was  incapable  to  con- 
tend with  the  united  strength  of  Olynthus  and 
Athens.  The  spies  and  emissaries  of  Philip 
(for  he  had  already  begun  to  employ  those 
odious,  but  necessary  instruments  of  policy) 
immediately  gave  the  alarm.  The  prince  him- 
self was  deeply  sensible  of  the  danger,  and  de- 
termined to  repel  it  with  equal  vigour  and 
celerity.  His  agents  reached  Athens  before  any 
thing  was  concluded  with  the  Olynthian  depu- 
ties. The  popular  leaders  and  orators  were 
bribed  and  gained ; the  magistrates  and  senate 
were  flattered  and  deceived  by  the  most  plausi- 
ble declarations  and  promises.  A negotiation 
was  immediately  set  on  foot,  by  which  Philip 
stipulated  to  conquer  Amphipolis  for  the  Athe- 
nians, on  condition  that  they  surrendered  to 
him  Pydna,  a place  of  far  less  importance.  He 
promised,  besides,  to  confer  many  other  advan- 
tages on  the  republic,  which  it  was  not  proper 
at  present  to  mention,  but  which  time  would 
reveal.11  Amused  by  the  artifices  of  the  Mace- 
donian, deceived  by  the  perfidy  of  their  own 
magistrates,  and  elated  with  the  hopes  of  re- 
covering Amphipolis,  the  great  object  of  their 
ambition,  the  senate  of  the  Five  Hundred  (for 
the  transaction  was  carried  on  with  such  haste 
as  allowed  not  time  for  assembling  the  people) 
rejected  with  disdain  the  overtures  of  the  Olyn- 
thians,12 who  returned  home  disgusted  and  in- 
dignant. 

They  had  scarcely  time  to  communicate  to 
their  countrymen  the  angry  passions  which 
agitated  their  own  breasts,  when  the  ambassa- 
dors of  Philip  craved  audience  in  the  assembly 
of  Olynthus.  That  artful  prince  affected  to 


11  Kxl  TO  $(V\.k0VfUV0V  7T0TI  C4W0(>5>)T0V  (X(IV0.  DomOg- 

then.  Olynth.  i.  p.  6.  edit.  Wolfii.  It  is  strange  that  Wolfius 
has  changed  the  order  of  the  Olynthian  orations,  so  distinct- 
ly marked  by  Dion.  Ilalicam.  in  his  letter  to  Ammffius. 

12  Demosthenes  expresses  it  in  the  strongest  terms,  as  if 
they  had  driven  the  Olynthians  from  Athens : “ on  OkvvSiout 
mrykxvvov  nvif  ivSivoi.”  Demosthen.  Olynth.  i.  p.  6. 


372 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


condole  with  the  Olynthians  on  the  affront 
which  they  had  received  from  the  insolence  of 
Athens ; but  at  the  same  time  testified  his  sur- 
prise, that  they  should  condescend  to  court  the 
distant  protection  of  that  proud  republic,  when 
they  might  find  in  Macedon  an  ally  near  at 
hand,  who  wished  for  nothing  more  earnestly 
than  to  enter  into  equal  and  lasting  engage- 
ments with  their  confederacy.  As  a proof  of 
his  moderation  and  sincerity,  he  offered  imme- 
diately to  put  them  in  possession  of  Anthemus, 
a town  of  some  importance  in  their  neighbour- 
hood, the  jurisdiction  of  which  had  long  been 
claimed  by  the  kings  of  Macedon;1  at  the 
same  time  assuring  them  of  his  intentions  to 
deserve  their  gratitude  by  still  more  important 
services,  and  particularly  by  employing  his 
arms  to  reduce  the  cities  of  Pydna  and  Potidaea, 
commanding  the  opposite  sides  of  the  Thermaie 
gulf ; places,  therefore,  of  considerable  value, 
which  he  wished  to  see  dependent  on  Olynthus, 
rather  than,  as  at  present,  subject  to  Athens. 
q.  The  immediate  offers  of  Philip,  his 

a professions  and  promises,  in  which, 

A * C*  357  as  ^ey  suited  his  interest,  he  doubt- 
less was  sincere,  and  still  more,  his 
secret  practices  with  some  powerful  men  of 
Olynthus,  effectually  prevailed  with  that  re- 
public to  abandon  the  cause  of  Amphipolis, 
whose  imprudent  inhabitants  had  been  at  little 
pains  to  prevent  those  offences*  and  complaints 
which  naturally  arise  between  the  jealous  mem- 
bers of  an  unequal  confederacy.  By  these  in- 
trigues, the  Macedonian  not  only  removed  all 
opposition  to  his  views  on  the  part  of  the  Olyn- 
thians, but  acquired  the  sincere  friendship  of 
that  people,  who  were  ready  to  assist  his  arms, 
and  to  second  his  most  ambitious  designs.  He 
therefore  prepared  for  action,  because  he  might 
now  act  with  safety  ; marched  rapidly  towards 
Amphipolis,  and  pressed  that  city  with  a vigor- 
ous siege.  The  inhabitants,  deeply  affected  by 
the  near  prospect  of  a calamity  which  they  had 
taken  little  care  to  prevent,  had  recourse,  in 
their  distress,  to  Athens.  Thither  they  des- 
patched Hierax  and  Stratocles,  two  of  their 
most  distinguished  citizens,  to  represent  the 
danger  of  an  alliance  between  Philip  and  Olyn- 
thus ; to  entreat  the  Athenians  to  accept  the 
sincere  repentance  of  their  unfortunate  colony, 
and  once  more  to  take  Amphipolis  under  the 
protection  of  their  fleet. 

At  that  time  the  Athenians  were  deeply  en- 
gaged in  the  social  war;  yet  the  hopes  of  re- 
covering so  important  a settlement  might  have 
directed  their  attention  to  Macedon,  had  not 
the  vigilant  policy  of  Philip  sent  them  a letter, 
renewing  the  assurances  of  his  friendship,  ac- 
knowledging their  pretensions  to  the  city, 
which  he  actually  besieged,  and  of  which  he 
artfully  said,  that,  in  terms  of  his  recent  en- 
gagement, he  hoped  shortly  to  put  them  in 
possession.  Amused  by  these  insinuating  re- 
presentations, the  Athenians  treated  the  depu- 
ties of  Amphipolis  with  as  little  respect  as  they 
had  lately  done  those  of  Olynthus.  The  be- 
sieged city  was  thus  deprived  of  all  hopes  of 
relief;  Philip  pressed  the  attack  with  new  vi- 


1  Demosthen.  Philip,  ii.  4. 


OlvmD  gour5  a breach  was  made  in  the 
cv  ^ P*  walls;  and  the  Amphipolitans,  after 
A C*  357  an  cbsfmacy  of  defence  which  could 
have  no  other  effect  than  to  pro- 
voke the  resentment  of  the  conqueror,  at 
length  surrendered  at  discretion.2 

The  prudent  Macedonian  always  preferred 
his  own  profit  to  the  punishment  of  his  ene- 
mies. It  was  his  interest  to  preserve  and  to 
aggrandize,  not  to  depopulate,  Amphipolis.  He 
banished  a few  daring  leaders,  whose  seditious 
or  patriotic  spirit  might  disturb  the  measures 
of  his  government.  The  bulk  of  the  citizens 
were  treated  w’ith  sufficient  mildness.  Their 
territory  was  reunited  to  Macedon,  from  which 
Philip  resolved  that  it  should  never  be  dismem- 
bered, notwithstanding  his  promises  to  the 
Athenians. 

That  he  might  arm  himself  against  the  re- 
sentment of  a people,  whom,  if  he  could  not 
deceive,  he  was  determined  to  defy,  he  cultivat- 
ed, with  great  earnestness,  the  Olynthian  con- 
federacy ; and  having  besieged  and  taken  the 
towns  of  Pydna  and  Potidae,  he  readily  ceded 
them  to  the  Olynthians,  who  had  but  feebly 
assisted  him  in  making  these  conquests.  In  the 
whole  transaction  Philip  affected  to  act  merely 
as  an  auxiliary.  The  Athenian  garrison  in  Po- 
tidae, who  had  surrendered  themselves  prison- 
ers of  war,  he  took  under  his  immediate  pro- 
tection, and  dismissed  them  without  ransom, 
artfully  lamenting  that  the  necessity  of  his 
affairs,  and  his  alliance  with  Olynthus,  obliged 
him  to  oppose  the  interests  of  their  republic, 
for  which  he  entertained  the  most  sincere  re- 
spect.3 

It  is  impossible  that  the  Athenians,  weak  and 
credulous  as  they  were,  should  have  been  the 
dupes  of  this  gross  artifice.  But  they  could 
not  immediately  withdraw'  their  exertions  from 
the  social  wrar,  the  events  of  which  grew  con- 
tinually more  unprosperous.  Philip,  ever  vigi- 
lant and  active,  profited  of  this  favourable  di- 
version, to  pursue  his  conquests  in  Thrace,  to 
which  the  possession  of  Amphipolis  afforded 
him  an  opening.  In  the  beginning  of  his  reign, 
he  had  found  it  necessary  to  purchase  a peace 
from  Cotys,  who  still  governed  that  country, 
but  from  whom  Philip  could  not  actually  ap- 
prehend any  formidable  opposition.  The  late 
acquaintance  of  that  Barbarian  w ith  the  Gre- 
cian religion  and  manners,  which  he  had  adopt- 
ed in  consequence  of  his  connection  with  Iphi- 
crates  and  the  Athenians,  served  only  to  deprave 
his  faculties  and  to  cloud  his  reason.  We 
should  pronounce  absolutely  mad,  the  man  who 
fancied  himself  enamoured  *of  Minerva  ; but 
the  ancients,  who  believed  that  the  gods  often 
appeared  in  a human  form,  regarded  with  more 
tenderness  this  frantic  enthusiasm.  Cotys  was 
allowed  to  possess  his  freedom  and  his  crown, 
wffiethcr,  with  his  ambulatory  court,  he  travers- 
ed the  inhospitable  mountains  of  Thrace,  or 
pitched  his  tents  on  the  fragrant  banks  of  the 
Strymon  or  the  Nessus  ; or,  to  enjoy  with  more 
privacy  the  favours  of  his  celestial  mistress, 


2 Diodor.  1.  xvi.  c.  viii.  Demosthen.  Olynth.  iii.  sect. 
4—7. 

3 Diodor.  1.  xvi.  c.  viii.  et  Demosth.  Philipp,  ii.  el 
Olynth.  i. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


373 


xxxm.] 

penetrated  into  the  deep  recesses  of  the  beau- 
tiful forests  which  adorned  his  kingdom. 

. At  the  approach  of  the  Macedo- 

Uiymp.  njans?  having  abandoned  the  grove 
°v*  _ of  Onocarsis,  the  favourite  scene  of 

A.  C.  ool.  an(j  romantic  enjoyments,4 

he  endeavoured  to  stop  the  progress  of  the 
enemy  by  a letter ; but  a letter  from  such  a 
man  could  excite  nothing  but  ridicule  or  pity. 
Philip  penetrated  eastward  thirty  miles  beyond 
Amphipolis,  to  the  town  of  Crenidae,  situated 
at  the  foot  of  Mount  Pangaeus,  and  distant 
ten  miles  from  the  sea.  He  admired  the  soli- 
tary beauty  of  the  place,  which  being  bounded 
on  one  side  by  the  sea,  and  on  the  other  by 
lofty  mountains,  was  watered  by  many  streams 
and  rivulets,  which,  tempering  the  dryness  of 
the  soil,  produced  the  finest  and  most  delicious 
fruit  and  flowers,  especially  roses,  of  a pecu- 
liar hue  and  fragrancy.  But  the  attention  of 
Philip  was  attracted  by  objects  more  important, 
by  the  gold  mines  in  that  neighbourhood,  for- 
merly wrought  by  colonies  from  Thasos  and 
from  Athens,  but  totally  neglected  since  the 
ignorant  Thracians  had  become  masters  of  Cre- 
nidae. Philip  expelled  those  Barbarians  from 
a possession  which  they  seemed  unworthy  to 
hold.  Having  descended  into  the  gold  mines, 
he  traced,  by  the  help  of  torches,  the  decayed 
labours  of  the  ancient  proprietors.  By  his  care 
the  water  was  drained  off ; the  canals,  broken 
or  choaked  up,  were  repaired ; and  the  bosom 
of  the  earth  was  again  opened  and  ransacked5 
with  eager  avidity  by  a prince  who  well  knew 
the  value  of  the  precious  metals.  A Macedo- 
nian colony  was  planted  at  Crenidae,  which 
thenceforth  assumed  the  name  of  Philippi,6  a 
name  bestowed  also  on  the  golden  coins  struck 
by  order  of  Philip,7  to  the  annual  amount  of 
nearly  a thousand  talents,  or  two  hundred 
thousand  pounds  sterling.8 

Having  effected  the  main  purpose  of  his 
Thracian  expedition,  the  prudence  of  Philip 
set  bounds  to  his  conquests  in  that  country,  and 
carried  his  arms  into  Thessaly,  which,  by  the 
murder  of  Alexander  of  Pherae,  had  got  three 
tyrants  instead  of  one.  These  were,  Tissipho- 
nus,  Pitholaus,  and  Lycophron,  the  brothers- 
in-law,  the  assassins,  and  the  successors  of  Al- 
exander. The  resentment  of  the  Thessalians, 
and  the  valour  of  the  Macedonian  troops,  to- 
tally defeated  those  oppressors  of  their  country, 
who  were  reduced  to  such  humiliating  terms  as 
seemed  sufficient  to  prevent  them  from  being 
thenceforth  formidable  either  to  their  own  sub- 
jects or  to  their  neighbours.9 *  The  Thessalians, 
who  were  susceptible  of  all  impressions,  but 
incapable  of  preserving  any,  concluded,  in  the 


4 Theopomp.  apud  Athenseum,  1.  xii.  p.  531. 

5 Senec.  Natur.  Quaest.  1.  v.  p.  760.  et  Demosth.  in  Lep- 
tin. 

6 The  fatal  defeat  and  death  of  Brutus  and  Cassius  have 
eclipsed,  in  their  melancholy  splendour,  all  the  precedin'* 
events  which  distinguish  Philippi.  There  liberty  expired, 
and  virtue  yielded  to  force. 

Cum  fracta  virtue,  et  minaces 

Turpe  solum  tetigere  mento.  Horace. 

7 Regale  numisma  Philippos. 

8 Diodor.  1.  xvi.  c.  ix.  Justin.  1.  viii.  c.  iii.  speaks  differ* 
ently ; but  the  whole  of  that  chapter  bears  evident  markB 
of  ignorance  and  error. 

9 Diodor.  1.  xvi.  c.  xiv.  et  Plut.  in  Pelopid. 


Olymp. 
cv.  4. 

A.  C.  357. 

Thessaly. 


first  emotions  of  their  gratitude,  an  agreement 
with  their  deliverer,  by  which  they  surrendered 
to  him  the  revenues  arising  from  their  fairs  and 
towns  of  commerce,  as  well  as  all  the  con- 
veniences of  their  harbours  and  shipping  ; and 
extraordinary  as  this  cession  was,  Philip  found 
means  to  render  it  effectual  and  permanent.19 

He  immediately  contracted  an 
alliance  with  Arybbas,  king  of  Epi- 
rus, a small  principality  which 
skirted  the  western  frontier  of 
In  his  excursions  from  Thebes, 
Philip  had  early  seen  Olympias,  the  sister  of 
that  prince,  whose  wit  and  spirit,  joined  to  the 
lively  graces  of  her  youth  and  beauty,  had 
made  a deep  impression  on  his  heart.  They 
were  initiated,  at  the  same  time,  in  the  myste- 
ries of  Ceres,  during  the  triennial  festival  in 
the  isle  of  Samothrace,  which  had  been  long  as 
much  distinguished  as  Eleusis11  itself,  by  the 
peculiar  worship  and  protection  of  this  bounti- 
ful goddess.  But  the  active  ambition  which 
employed  and  engrossed  the  first  years  of 
Philip’s  reign  had  probably  banished  the  me- 
mory of  his  love,  when  his  expedition  into 
Thessaly  recalled  the  image  of  Olympias. 
Their  first  interview  naturally  revived  his  ten- 
der passions  ; and,  as  the  kings  of  Epirus  were 
lineally  descended  from  Achilles,  the  match 
appeared  every  way  suitable  ; Arybbas  readily 
yielded  his  consent,  and  the  beautiful  princess 
was  conducted  into  Macedon.12 

The  nuptials  of  Philip  were  solemnized  at 
Pella  with  unusual  pomp  and  splendour.  Seve- 
ral months  were  destined  to  religious  shows  and 
processions,  to  gymnastic  games  and  exercises, 
to  musical  and  dramatic  entertainments.  The 
young  and  fortunate  prince  naturally  took  a 
principal  share  in  all  these  scenes  of  festivity  ; 
and  it  is  probable  that,  amidst  the  more  elegant 
amusements  of  his  court,  Philip  might  disco- 
ver that  strong  propensity  to  vicious  indul- 
gence, that  delight  in  buffoons  and  flatterers, 
and  other  disgraceful  ministers  of  his  more 
criminal  pleasures,  which,  however  counter- 
acted and  balanced  by  his  ambition  and  mag- 
nanimity, disgraced  and  tarnished  the  succeed- 
ing glories  of  his  reign.  It  is  certain  that  the 
voluptuous  inactivity  in  which  he  seemed  sunk, 
encouraged  the  hopes  of  his  enemies.13  The 
tributary  princes  of  Paeonia  and  Illyria  pre- 
pared to  rebel ; the  king  of  Thrace  engaged  in 
their  designs,  which  were  concerted  with  more 
caution  than  is  usual  with  Barbarians  ; and  this 
general  conspiracy  of  neighbouring  states  might 
nave  repressed  for  awhile  the  fortune  of  Ma- 
cedon, if  Philip  had  not  been  seasonably  in- 
formed of  the  danger  by  his  faithful  partisans 
and  emissaries  in  those  countries. 

Early  in  the  ensuing  spring  he 
took  the  field  with  the  flower  of 
the  Macedonian  troops.  Parmenio, 
the  general  in  whom  he  had  most 
confidence,  crushed  the  rebellion  in  Jllyria. 
Philip  was  equally  successful  in  Paionia  and 
Thrace.  While  he  returned  from  the  latter,  he 


Olymp. 
cvi.  1. 

A.  C.  356. 


10  Demosth.  Philip.  I.  10.  Polyfen.  Stratag.  1'.  iv.  c.  xix. 

11  See  c.  xxi.  p.  249  et  seq. 

12  Diodor.  I.  xvi.  c.  xxii. 

13  Justin.  1.  vii.  c.  vi. 


374 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


was  informed  of  the  victory  of  Parmenio.  A 
second  messenger  acquainted  him  that  his 
horses  had  gained  the  prize  in  the  chariot-races 
at  the  Olympic  games ; a victory  which  he  re- 
garded as  far  more  honourable,  and  which,  as 
it  proved  him  a legitimate  son  of  Greece,  he 
carefully  commemorated,  by  impressing  a cha- 
riot on  his  coins.  Almost  at  the  same  time  a 
third  messenger  arrived  to  tell  him  that  Olym- 
pias had  brought  forth  a prince  at  Pella  ; to 
whom,  as  born  amidst  such  auspicious  circum- 
stances, the  diviners  announced  the  greatest 
prosperity1  and  glory. 

Such  a rapid  tide  of  good  fortune  did  not 
overset  the  wisdom  of  Philip,  if  we  may  judge 
by  the  first  authentic  transaction  which  imme- 
diately followed  those  events.  This  was  the 
correspondence  with  Aristotle,  the  philosopher, 
whose  merit  Philip  had  early  discerned  at 
Athens,  when  he  still  resided  with  his  master 
Plato.  The  first  letter  (fortunately  preserved) 


[Chap. 

is  written  with  a brevity  which  marks  the  king 
and  the  man  of  genius.  « Know  that  a son  is 
born  to  us.  We  thank  the  gods,  not  so  much 
for  the  gift,  as  for  bestowing  it  at  a time  when 
Aristotle  lives.  We  assure  ourselves  that  you 
will  form  him  a prince  worthy  of  his  father,  and 
worthy  of  Macedon.”  Aristotle  commenced 
this  illustrious  employment  about  thirteen  }?ears 
afterwards,2  when  the  opening  mind  of  Alex- 
ander might  be  supposed  capable  of  receiving 
the  benefit  of  his  instructions.  The  success  of 
his  labours  will  be  explained  in  the  sequel. 
The  fortune  of  Alexander  surpassed  that  of  all 
other  conquerors  as  much  as  his  virtues  sur- 
passed his  fortune.  Yet  the  fame  of  the  philo- 
sopher abundantly  repays  the  honour  reflected 
on  him  by  his  royal  pupil,  since  sixteen  centu- 
ries after  the  subversion  of  Alexander’s  empire, 
the  writings  of  Aristotle  still  maintained  an  un 
exampled  ascendant  over  the  opinions,  and 
even  over  the  actions  of  men. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


Philip's  Prosperity — Imprudent  Measures  of  the  Amphictyonic  Council — The  Phocian , or  Sacred 
War — Philomelas  seizes  the  Temple  of  Delphi — Takes  the  Field  against  the  Thebans  and  their 
Allies — Defeat  and  Death  of  Philomelas — Affairs  of  Thrace , Macedon , and  Attica — Onemar- 
chus  takes  the  Command  of  the  Phocians — Encounters  Philip  in  Thessaly — He  is  defeated  and 
slain — Philip's  Designs  against  Olynthus  and  Byzantium — Traversed  by  the  Athenians — 
Phayllus  takes  the  Command  of  the  Phocians — Philip  marches  towards  Thermopylae — Antici- 
pated by  the  Athenians — Demosthenes'  first  Philippic — Philip's  Occupations  at  Pella — His 
Pices — and  Policy . 


OlvmD  pHILIP  had  now  reigned  almost 
evil  l five  years*  He  had  greatly  en- 

A C 356  ^arSec^  t^ie  boundaries,  he  had  still 
more  augmented  the  revenues,  of 
his  kingdom.  Paeonia,  no  longer  the  rival,  was 
become  an  obsequious  province  of  Macedon. 
At  the  expense  of  Thrace  and  Illyria,  he  had 
extended  his  frontier  on  the  east  to  the  sea  of 
Thasos ; on  the  west  to  the  lake  Lychnidus. 
He  was  master  of  Thessaly  without  having  the 
trouble  to  govern  it.  He  secured  many  com- 
mercial advantages  by  the  possession  of  Am- 
phipolis.  His  troops  were  numerous  and  well 
disciplined;  his  large  finances  were  regulated 
with  economy  ; and  the  mines  of  Philippi  fur- 

1  PI  ill.  in  Alexand. 

2 The  chronology  appears  from  Dionysius  of  Halicar- 

nassus’s letter  to  Ammaeus,  who,  in  order  to  prove  that 
Demosthenes  had  attained  the  highest  perfection  in  the 
practice,  before  Aristotle  had  delivered  the  theory,  of  elo- 
quence, marks,  with  great  exactness,  the  principal  events  in 
the  lives  of  the  philosopher  and  orator.  Aristotle,  a native 
of  Stagira,  came  to  Athens  in  his  eighteenth  year,  367,  A. 
C.  There  he  continued  twenty  years,  as  the  scholar  or  as- 
sistant of  Plato,  who  died  348  A.  C.  Aristotle  left  Athens 
on  the  death  of  his  master,  and  spent  three  years  at  Atar- 
nasus,  and  two  at  MytelenC.  From  thence  he  went  to  Ma- 
cedon, in  the  forty-third  year  of  his  age,  and  343  A.  C.  He 
was  employed  eight  years  in  the  education  of  Alexander. 
He  returned  to  Athens  335  A.  C. ; taught  twelve  years  in 
the  Lycaeum,  and  died  the  year  following  at  Chalcis,  aetat. 
sixty-three,  A.  C.  323,  and  a year  after  the  death  of  Alex- 
ander. Dionysius  ad  Ammasum.  He  reckons  by  the  Ar- 
chons  of  Athens ; I have  substituted  the  years  before 
Christ.  J 


nished  him  with  an  annual  resource  alike  use- 
ful to  his  designs,  whether  he  pursued  the  am- 
bitious career  of  foreign  conquest,  or  set  himselt 
to  build  up  and  consolidate  the  internal  gran- 
deur of  his  dominions. 

The  power  of  Philip  was  admired,  and  feared, 
by  those  who  were  unable  to  penetrate  the  deep 
principles  of  his  policy,  which  alone  rendered 
him  really  formidable.  The  first  and  most  na- 
tural object  of  his  desire  was  the  territory  of 
Olynthus,  the  most  populous  and  fertile  portion 
of  the  Macedonian  coast.  His  second  and  far 
more  arduous  purpose  was  to  obtain  the  sove- 
reignty of  Greece.  But  instead  of  discovering 
these  designs,  he  had  hitherto  cultivated  the 
Olynthians  with  a careful  assiduity,  and  had 
deserved  their  gratitude  by  many  solid  and  im- 
portant services.  His  success  had  been  com- 
plete, and  if,  elated  by  the  many  advantages 
which  we  have  enumerated,  he  had  already  pre- 
pared to  invade  Greece,  it  is  more  than  probable 
that  the  Olynthians  would  have  consented  to 
follow  his  standard.  But  Philip  was  sensible, 
that  by  snatching  too  eagerly  at  this  glorious 
prize,  he  might  destroy  for  ever  his  prospect  of 
obtaining  it.  While  the  Athenians  were  occu- 
pied and  harassed  by  the  destructive  war  with 
their  confederates,  he  had,  indeed,  embraced  the 
opportunity  to  gain  possession  of  several  of  their 
dependent  settlements  in  Thrace  and  Macedon; 
colouring,  however,  these  proceedings  by  the 


XXXIV.}  HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


pretence  of  justice  or  necessity,  and  tempering 
even  his  hostilities  by  many  partial  acts  of  kind- 
ness and  respect.  Before  the  social  war  was 
ended,  the  seeds  of  dissension,  so  profusely  scat- 
tered in  Greece,  were  likely  to  ripen  into  a new 
quarrel  far  more  general  and  important.  Philip 
patiently  waited  their  maturity.  His  hopes 
were  founded  on  the  domestic  animosities  of 
Greece  ; but  the  too  early  discovery  of  his  sys- 
tem might  have  united  a hundred  thousand3 
warriors  against  their  common  enemy  ; where- 
as, by  the  secret  refinements  of  a slow  and  stea- 
dy policy,  he  effected  his  vast  purposes  without 
being  obliged,  on  any  one  occasion,  to  fight 
against  thirty  thousand  men. 

The  Amphictyons  having  recovered  their  au- 
thority in  consequence  of  the  events  which  have 
formerly  been  described,  began  early  to  display 
those  dangerous  passions  with  which  the  exer- 
cise of  uncontrolled  power  too  naturally  corrupts 
the  heart.  They  pretended,  that  during  the 
decline  of  their  jurisdiction,  many  unwarrant- 
able abuses  had  been  introduced,  which  it  be- 
came them  to  remedy.  The  rights  of  religion 
(they  said,)  which  it  was  their  first  duty  to 
maintain,  had  been  materially  violated  by  the 
Phocians,  who,  alike  regardless  of  the  decision 
of  the  oracle,  and  of  an  Amphictyonic  decree, 
had  ploughed  lands  consecrated  to  Apollo,  and 
therefore  withdrawn  from  agriculture.4  These 
lands,  however,  were  confined  to  the  narrow 
district  between  the  river  Cephissus  and  Mount 
Thurium,  on  the  western  frontier  of  Breotia. 
The  crime  of  the  Phocians  (if  their  useful  la- 
bours deserve  the  name  of  crime)  was  neither 
great  nor  unprecedented,  since  the  Locrians  of 
Amphissa  had  long  cultivated  the  Crissoean 
plain ; a more  extensive  territory,  and  conse- 
crated to  the  god  by  far  more  awful  ceremo- 
nies.5 But  the  proud  tyranny  of  the  Amphic- 
tyons, careless  of  such  distinctions,  fulminated 
an  angry  decree  against  Phocis, commanding  the 
sacred  lands  to  be  laid  waste,  and  imposing  a 
heavy  fine  on  that  community. 

It  is  believed  that  the  Thebans,  the  enemies 
and  neighbours  of  Phocis,  and  whose  influence 
at  that  time  predominated  in  the  council,  were 
the  principal  abettors  of  this  arbitrary  measure;6 
a supposition  rendered  probable  by  the  ensuing 
deliberations  of  the  Amphictyons.  Their  next 
sentence  was  directed  against  Sparta,  to  punish 
the  injury  of  Phcebidas,  who,  in  time  of  peace, 
had  surprised  and  seized  the  Theban  citadel. 
This  breach  of  public  faith,  however  criminal 
and  flagrant,  had  been  committed  so  many  years 
before,  that  prudence  required  it  to  be  for  ever 
buried  in  obscurity.  But,  at  the  instigation  of 
the  Thebans,  the  Amphictyons  brought  it  once 
more  to  light;  commanded  the  Lacedaemonians 
to  pay  a fine  of  five  hundred  talents ; decreed 
that  the  fine  should  be  doubled,  unless  paid 


within  an  appointed  time ; and  if  the  decree 
were  finally  disregarded,  that  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians should  be  treated  as  public  enemies  to 
Greece.7 

The  Phocians,  singled  out  as  the 
first  victims  of  oppression,  were 
7‘c'or^  deeply  affected  by  their  danger.  To 

* * ° ’ pay  the  money  demanded  of  them 

exceeded  their  faculties.  It  would  be  grievous 
to  desolate  the  fields  which  their  own  hands 
had  cultivated  with  so  much  toil.  The  com- 
mands of  the  Amphictyons  were  indeed  pe- 
remptory; but  that  council  had  not  on  foot  any 
sufficient  force  to  render  them  effectual,  should 
the  devoted  objects  of  their  vengeance  venture 
to  dispute  their  authority.  This  measure,  dar- 
ing as  it  seemed,  was  strongly  recommended 
by  Philomelus,  whose  popular  eloquence  and 
valour  gave  him  a powerful  ascendant  in 
Phocis.  He  possessed  great  hereditary  wealth  ; 
contemned  the  national  superstition  ; and  being 
endowed  with  a bold  ambitious  spirit,  he  expect- 
ed to  rise,  amidst  the  tumult  of  action  and  dan- 
ger, to  unrivalled  pre-eminence  in  his  republic. 
After  repeated  deliberations,  in  which  he  flat- 
tered the  vanity,  and  tempted  the  avarice  of  his 
countrymen,  by  proving,  that  to  them  of  right 
belonged  the  guardianship  of  the  Delphian  tem- 
ple, and  the  immense  treasures  contained  within 
its  sacred  walls, 8 he  brought  the  majority  of  the 
senate  and  assembly  into  his  opinion.  As  the 
properest  instrument  to  execute  his  own  mea- 
sures, Philomelus  was  named  general : the  Pho- 
cian  youth  flocked  to  his  standard ; and  his 
private  fortune,  as  well  as  the  public  revenues, 
were  consumed  in  purchasing  the  mercenary 
aid  of  those  needy  adventurers,  who  abounded 
in  every  province  of  Greece. 

The  following  year  was  employed 

.ynJP*  by  Philomelus  in  providing  arms, 
' in  exercising  his  troops,  and  in  an 

* * ’ embassy  which  he  undertook  in 

person  to  Sparta.  As  that  community  had  not 
discharged  the  fine  imposed  by  the  Amphic- 
tyons, the  penalty  was  doubled,  and  the  de- 
linquents were  condemned  to  pay  a thousand 
talents.  The  exorbitance  of  this  imposition 
might  have  justified  the  Spartans  in  following 
the  example  of  Phocis,  and  setting  the  Amphic- 
tyons at  defiance.  But  Archidamus,  who  pos- 
sessed all  the  caution  and  address  of  his  father 
Agesilaus,  was  unwilling  to  take  a principal 
part  in  the  first  dangerous  experiment,  and  to 
post  himself  in  the  front  of  battle,  against  the 
revered  decrees  of  an  assembly,  considered  as 
the  legal  guardian  of  national  religion  and 
liberty.  He  assured  Philomelus  that  both  him- 
self and  the  Spartans  fully  approved  his  cause  ; 
that  reasons  of  a temporary  nature  hindered 
their  declaring  themselves  openly,  but  that  he 
might  depend  on  secret  supplies  of  men  and 
money.9 


3 The  number  is  chosen  as  a very  moderate  medium  be- 
tween the  two  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  men,  after- 
wards promised  to  Philip  in  the  general  convention  of  the 
States  at  Corinth  for  the  service  of  the  Persian  expedition, 
and  the  ei<rh'y  thousand  wh'ch  the  Greeks  actually  raised 
against  Xerxes,  and  which  Thucydides  says,  that  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian confederacy  alone  could  send  into  Attica. 

4 See  c.  v.  p.  65. 

5 See  c.  v.  p.  64,  et  seq. 

6 Justin.  I.  viii.  c.  i.  et  seq. 


7 Diodor.  1.  xvi.  c.  xxiii.  et  seq. 

8 Philomelus  cited  the  respectable  authority  of  Homer  : 

Avrag  4>'»ix»<uv  kxi  EsriTTgoVog  seJSGv, 

Oi  Ko7ragnrTov  si%,ov}  riuSwva  r s irergnsirirav. 

“Pul  Schedius  and  Epistrophus  led  the  Phocinns,  who  in- 
habited Oypnrissus,  and  the  rocky  Python,”  the  ancient 
name  of  Delphi. 

9 Oh  Ag  yiSa/aos  arroSsEa/utvos  rov  Koyov,  <pavig  u>g  /xtv, 

Kara  to  tragovf  oux  &oy\$nTuvf  Kaigx  Si  iravxa  crvfi- 


376 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Encouraged  by  this  assurance, 

7 P'  and  by  a considerable  sum* 1  imme- 
*;vlr,  ' _ diately  put  into  his  hands,  Philo- 

’ ' a * melus,  at  his  return,  ventured  on  a 

measure  not  less  audacious  than  unexpected. 
The  temple  of  Delphi,  so  awfully  guarded  by 
superstition,  was  scarcely  defended  by  any  mi- 
litary force.  Philomelus,  having  prepared  the 
imagination  of  his  followers  for  this  bold  enter- 
prise, immediately  conducted  them  towards 
Delphi,  defeated  the  feeble  resistance  of  the 
Thracidae,  who  inhabited  the  neighbouring  dis- 
trict, and  entered  the  sacred  city  with  the  calm 
intrepidity  of  a conqueror.  The  Delphians,  who 
expected  no  mercy  from  a man  devoid  of  res- 
pect for  religion,  prepared  themselves  in  silent 
horror,  for  beholding  the  complicated  guilt  of 
sacrilege  and  murder.  But  the  countenance  of 
Philomelus  re-assured  them,  and  his  discourse 
totally  dispelled  their  ill-grounded  fears.  He 
declared  that  he  had  come  to  Delphi  with  no 
hostile  disposition  against  the  inhabitants,  with 
no  sacrilegious  designs  against  the  temple.  His 
principal  motive  was  to  emancipate  the  one  and 
the  other  from  the  arbitrary  proceedings  of  the 
Amphictyons,  and  to  assert  the  ancient  and  un- 
alienable prerogative  of  Phocis  to  be  the  patron 
and  protector  of  the  Delphian  shrine.  To  the 
same  purpose  he  scattered  declarations  through 
the  different  republics  of  Greece  ; his  emissaries 
acquainted  the  Spartans  that  he  had  destroyed 
the  brazen  tablets  containing  the  unjust  decrees 
against  Sparta  and  Phocis ; they  inflamed  the 
resentment  of  the  Athenians,  naturally  hostile 
to  Thebes  ; and  both  these  republics  came  to 
the  resolution  of  supporting  the  measures  of 
Philomelus. 

The  Thebans,  on  the  other  hand,  who  direct- 
ed, and  the  Locrians,  Thessalians,  with  other 
states  of  less  consideration,  who  tamely  obeyed 
the  decrees  of  the  Amphictyons,  determined  to 
take  the  field  in  defence  of  their  insulted  reli- 
gion and  violated  laws.  Their  operations  were 
conducted  with  that  extreme  slowness  natural 
to  confederacies.  Philomelus  acted  with  more 
vigour.  He  received  little  assistance  from  his 
distant  allies.  But,  first,  by  imposing  a heavy  tax 
on  the  Delphians,  who  had  been  enriched  by 
the  devotion  of  Greece,  and  then,  notwithstand- 
ing his  declaration,  by  taking  very  undue  liber- 
ties with  the  treasure  of  Apollo,2  he  collected 
above  ten  thousand  mercenaries,  men  daring 
and  profligate  as  himself,  who  sacrificed  all 
scruples  of  religion  to  the  hopes  of  dividing  a 
rich  spoil.  Such  at  least  was  the  general  cha- 
racter of  his  followers.  To  the  few  who  had 
more  piety,  or  less  avarice,  he  endeavoured  to 
justify  his  measures  by  the  authority  of  an 
oracle.  The  Pythia  at  first  refused  to  mount 
the  sacred  tripod.  Philomelus  sternly  com- 
manded her.  She  obeyed  with  reluctance,  ob- 
serving, that  being  already  master  of  Delphi, 
he  might  act  without  sanction  or  control.3  Phi- 


[Chap 

lomelus  waited  for  no  other  answer,  but  gladly 
interpreted  the  words  as  an  acknowledgment 
of  his  absolute  authority  ; and,  with  the  address 
suitable  to  his  situation  and  character,  con- 
firmed the  auspicious  declaration  of  the  priestess 
by  the  report  of  many  favourable  omens.4 
p..  Having  obtained  the  supposed 

cvi  2 sanction  of  religion,  Philomelus  pro- 
A r qec  ceeded  to  fortify  the  temple  and  city 
of  Delphi,  in  which  he  placed  a 
strong  garrison;  and,  with  the  remainder  of 
his  forces,  boldly  marched  forth  to  repel  the  in- 
cursions of  the  enemy.  During  two  years,  hos- 
tilities were  carried  on  with  various  fortune 
against  the  Locrians  and  Thebans.  Victory 
for  the  most  part  inclined  to  the  Phocians ; but 
there  happened  not  any  decisive  action,  nor 
was  the  war  memorable  on  any  other  account 
but  that  of  the  excessive  cruelty  mutually  in- 
flicted and  suffered.  ThePhocian  prisoners  were 
uniformly  condemned  to  death,  as  wretches 
convicted  of  the  most  abominable  sacrilege  and 
impiety;  and  the  resentment  of  their  country- 
men retaliated  with  equal  severity  on  the  un- 
happy captives  whom  the  chance  of  war  fre- 
quently put  into  their  hands.5 
^ As  both  armies  anxiously  expect- 

ed  reinforcements,  they  were  unwill- 
A C 353  r*sk  a general  engagement, 

, ° till  chance  rendered  that  measure 

unavoidable.  Entangled  among  the  woods  and 
mountains  of  Phocis,  the  inconvenience  of  for- 
age attracted  them  to  the  same  point.  The  van- 
guards met  unexpectedly  near  the  town  of 
Neone,  and  began  to  skirmish.  A general  and 
fierce  action  followed,  in  which  the  Phocians 
were  repelled  by  superior  numbers.  Pathless 
woods,  abrupt  rocks  and  precipices,  obstructed 
their  retreat.  In  vain  Philomelus  strove  with 
his  voice  and  arm  to  rally  the  fugitives.  He 
himself  was  carried  along  by  the  torrent  to  the 
brow  of  a precipice,  afflicted  with  wounds,  and 
still  more  with  anguish  and  despair.  The  ene- 
my advanced;  it  seemed  impossible  to  escape 
their  vengeance;  the  resolution  of  Philomelus 
was  prompt  and  terrible;  with  a vigorous 
bound  he  sprang  from  the  rock,  thus  eluding 
the  torment  of  his  own  guilty  conscience,  and 
the  resentment  of  his  pursuers.6  While  the 
Thebans  and  their  allies  admired  this  spectacle 
as  a manifest  indication  of  divine  vengeance,7 
Onomarchus,  the  lieutenant  and  brother  of  the 
Phocian  general,  collected  and  drew  off  the 
scattered  remains  of  the  vanquished  army  to- 
wards Delphi.  The  confederates  determined 
to  expel  them  from  that  holy  place,  and  to  in- 
flict on  the  enemies  of  Greece  and  heaven,  a 
punishment  similar  to  that  to  which  the  wrath 
of  Apollo  had  driven  the  impious  Philomelus.6 

Different  causes  concurred  to  prevent  Philip 
on  the  one  hand,  and  Athens  and  Sparta  on  the 
other,  from  taking  a principal  or  early  part  in 
the  Phocian  war.  The  interested  policy  of 


Jr?*?***',  yuv  xxi  X^ftx rx  xxi  /turSo^ogovg.  Diodor. 
1.  xvi.  p.  426. 

1 Diodorus  (1.  xvi.  p.  426.)  says,  fifteen  talents. 

2 Diodorus  sometimes  acknowledges,  and  sometimes  de- 
nies, that  Philomelus  meddled  with  the  sacred  treasure. 

3 AjrocSjyj;*/K£i'HS  S’  auriis  srfOj  t>jv  vsregexiv  tou 

fiixfafuvou  “ot«  «£«o*t»  xv t ui  x-gxTTut  o 6ovX.et««.”  Dio- 

dor. p.  428. 


4 Diodor.  p.  429.  5 Diodor.  p.  530.  et  seq. 

6 Diodorus  hints,  that  had  Philomelus  been  taken  captive, 
his  body  would  have  been  shockingly  mangled:  ^ofiou/uivof 
t»iv  sx  tsj;  xix/*xA<j>o- ixg  xixixv.  p.  432. 

7 Such  it  appeared  to  future  historians:  *xi  toutov  tov 

TJ05T0I/,  Sovf  TO)  SxiflOVHO  $IXX{  XXTXOTTgtyt  TOV  /3 10V 

Diodor.  ibid. 

8 Diodor.  1.  xvi.  p.  432. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


377 


XXXIV.] 

Archidamus,  who  directed  with  absolute  au- 
thority the  councils  of  Sparta,  was  less  anxious 
to  support  the  arms  of  his  distant  confederates, 
than  solicitous  to  recover  the  Lace- 
c ^ g”'  daemonian  dominion  in  Peloponne- 
~ sus.  The  opportunity  seemed  fa- 

' ' 0 * vourable  for  this  purpose,  the  The- 

bans being  deeply  engaged  in  another  contest, 
and  the  Athenians  in  strict  alliance  with  Sparta. 
For  several  years,  the  arms  and  intrigues  of 
Archidamus  were  employed  against  the  Messe- 
nians,  Arcadians,  and  Argives.  But  his  ambi- 
tious design  failed  of  success;  the  inferior  cities 
of  Peloponnesus,  roused  by  a common  danger, 
confederated  for  their  mutual  defence ; and 
Athens,  though  actually  the  ally  of  Sparta,  was 
unwilling  to  abandon  to  the  tyranny  of  that  re- 
public her  more  ancient  and  faithful  allies,  the 
Arcadians  and  Messenians.9 

While  the  politics  of  the  Peloponnesus  formed 
a system  apart,  the  sacred  war  shook  the  centre 
of  Greece,  and  the  affairs  of  Thrace  occupied 
Philip  and  the  Athenians.  Cotys  was  dead ; 
his  sons,  Kersobleptes,  Berisades,  and  Amado- 
cus,  were  all  dissatisfied  with  the  partition  of 
his  dominions.  While  their  hostilities  against 
each  other  exhibited  the  odious  picture  of  fra- 
ternal discord,  the  prizes  for  which  they  con- 
tended were  successively  carried  off  by  Philip. 
The  encroachments  of  that  prince  at  length  en- 
gaged Kersobleptes,  the  most  powerful  of  the 
co-heirs,  to  cede  the  Thracian  Chersonesus  to 
the  Athenians,  who  sent  Chares  with  a numer- 
ous fleet  to  take  possession  of  that  peninsula. 
The  town  of  Sestos  alone  made  resistance.  It 
was  taken  by  storm,  and  treated  with  great 
severity  by  Chares;  while  Philip  besieged  and 
took  the  far  more  important  city  of  Methone  in 
Pieria.  In  this  siege  he  lost  an  eye,  a loss 
which  he  is  said  to  have  borne  with  impa- 
tience,10 as  the  circumstances  attending  it  were 
alike  dishonourable  to  his  judgment  and  hu- 
manity.* 11 

q.  It  appears  extraordinary  that  the 

Ci/4P-  Thebans,  after  the  defeat  and  death 
A C 353  phil°melusi  should  not  have  pur- 
sued their  good  fortune,  without  al- 
lowing the  enemy  time  to  breathe  and  recover 
strength.  They  probably  imagined  that  the 


9 The  question  appears  to  have  occasioned  warm  debates 
in  the  Athenian  assembly  : the  Spartan  and  Arcadian 
parties  were  animated  with  the  utmost  zeal ; and,  according 
to  the  lively  observation  of  Demosthenes,  the  Athenian 
orators,  had  they  not  spoke  the  Attic  dialect,  would  have 
appeared,  the  one  half  Spartans,  the  other  Arcadians.  De- 
mosthen.  pro  Megalop.  p.  83. 

10  Lucian  de  Scribend.  Hist.  p.  365. 

11  These  circumstances,  however,  rest  on  the  authority 
of  Suidas  and  Ulpian.  It  is  said,  that  when  the  arrow  was 
extracted,  the  following  inscription  appeared  on  it : “Aster 
to  Philip’s  right  eye.”  Aster,  it  seems,  had  offered  his 
services  to  Philip,  as  an  excellent  marksman  ; to  which 
Philip  replied,  that  he  would  employ  him  when  he  waged 
war  with  starlings.  Philip  caused  the  arrow  to  be  shot 
back  into  the  place,  with  a new  inscription,  “That  lie 
would  hang  up  Aster;”  a threat  which  was  executed  ns 
soon  as  he  was  master  of  Methon&.  Fictions  still  more  in- 
credible were  related  on  this  subject  by  the  fabulous  writers 
of  the  age  of  Alexander.  Philip,  it  was  said,  lost  his  right 
eye  by  his  unseasonable  curiosity  in  prying  into  the  amours 
of  Olympias  and  Jupiter  Ammon.  This  ridiculous  flattery 
to  Alexander  has  been  so  widely  diffused,  that  it  was  sup- 
posed to  be  the  subject  represented  on  the  celebrated  vase, 
which  is  so  much  better  explained  by  Mr.  D’Hancarville. 
See  Recherches  sur  Jes  Arts  de  la  Gr6ce,  vol.  ii. 


fatal  exit  of  that  daring  chief  would  deter  a 
successor;  and  that  the  Phocians  would  crave 
peace,  if  not  driven  to  despair.  Such  indeed 
was  the  resolution  of  the  more  respectable  part 
of  the  Phocians.  But  the  bold,  impious,  and 
needy,  who  composed  the  most  numerous  de- 
scription of  that  people,  were  bent  on  continu- 
ing the  war.  An  assembly  was  convened, 
when  Onomarchus,  in  a set  speech,12  flattered 
their  hopes,  and  encouraged  them  to  persevere. 
His  opinion  prevailed;  he  was  named  general; 
and  his  conduct  soon  proved,  that  he  equalled  his 
brother  in  boldness  and  ambition,  and  surpassed 
him  in  activity  and  enterprise.  None  better  knew 
the  power  of  gold,  or  had  more  address  in  em- 
ploying it.  With  the  Delphic  treasure  he  coin- 
ed such  a quantity  of  money  as  perhaps  had 
never  before  circulated  in  Greece.  The  Pho- 
cian  army  was  restored  and  augmented ; their 
allies  were  rendered  more  hearty  in  their  cause; 
even  their  enemies  were  not  proof  against  the 
temptations  which  continually  assailed  their 
fidelity.  By  seasonable  bribes,  Onomarchus 
distracted  the  councils  of  Thebes,  and  kept 
their  arms  inactive.  The  neighbouring  states 
were  persuaded  to  observe  a neutrality;  while 
the  Thessalians,  a people  at  all  times  noted  for 
avarice  and  fraud,13  and  of  whose  country  the 
proverb  said,  that  it  had  never  produced  a bad 
horse  or  an  honest  man,  openly  embraced  the 
cause  of  Phocis. 

These  multiplied  advantages  were  not  allow- 
ed to  languish  in  the  hands  of  Onomarchus, 
who  hoped  to  eclipse  the  unjust  motives  of  his 
enterprise  by  the  sudden  splendour  of  victory. 
At  the  head  of  a numerous  and  well-appointed 
army,  he  poured  down  on  Locris  and  Doris, 
ravaged  the  country,  took  Thronium  by  storm, 
laid  several  cities  under  contribution,  pierced 
into  Boeotia,  and  made  himself  master  of  Or- 
chomenus.  The  Thebans  assembled  their  forces 
to  stem  the  torrent.  Onomarchus  first  met 
with  a repulse  before  the  walls  of  Chaeronaea, 
and  ventured  not  to  renew  the  engagement, 
having  weakened  his  forces  by  placing  garri- 
sons in  the  important  places  which  he  had  taken, 
as  well  as  by  sending  a detachment  of  seven 
thousand  men  under  his  brother  Phayllus,  into 
Thessaly.14 

In  that  country,  the  intrigues  of  Philip  had 
counteracted  the  gold  of  Onomarchus.  But 
Lycophron,  who  was  the  chief  partisan  of  the 
latter,  and  whom  Philip  had  formerly  divested 
of  his  authority,  had  again  established  himself  in 
Pherae.  Pegasse,  Magnesia,  and  several  places 
of  less  note,  declared  for  the  tyrant,  and  for 
Phocis.  The  Macedonian  interest  prevailed 
elsewhere;  and  the  factions  were  equally  ba- 
lanced, when  Philip,  with  his  usual  diligence, 
entered  Thessaly,  defeated  Phayllus,  besieged 


12  ITs<pf 9vT*o>tsi/ oi/  Koyov  SisKdtav.  Diodor.  p.  432. 

13  The  Thessalians  had  the  same  character  in  Greece, 
as  the  Lygurians  in  Italy: 

Vane  Ligus 

Nequicqunm  patrias  tent&sti  lubricus  nrtcs.  Viro. 
Euripides  speaks  of  the  slippery  deceits  of  the  Thessalians. 
Demosthenes  (Olynth.i.  p.  4.  ex  edit.  Wolf.)  says,  *«t<*  r» 

Turn  @STTCtKwV‘  TUUTX  fXf  X7TKTTX  fliv  yv  S ))  TOO  $U0*l», 

x.3ti  am  xaa-i  Philip  was  farther  distressed  by 

the  insurrections  of  the  Thessalians,  a people  faithless  by 
nature,  at  all  times,  to  all  men.” 

14  Diodor.  p.  434. 


378 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


and  took  Pegasae,  and  drove  the  enemy  with 
disgrace  towards  the  frontier  of  Phocis.  The 
fear  of  losing  his  newly-acquired  interest  among 
the  Thessalians,  made  Onomarchus  evacuate 
Boeotia,  and  advance  against  Philip  with  his 
whole  army.  The  Macedonians,  though  less 
numerous,  did  not  decline  the  engagement.  At 
the  first  charge  the  Phocians  gave  way,  and  re- 
treated towards  the  neighbouring  mountains. 
Philip  ordered  his  men  to  pursue  in  their  ranks. 
It  was  then  that  the  Phocians  really  began  the 
battle.  Onomarchus,  foreseeing  that  the  Mace- 
donians would  follow  in  close  order,  had  posted 
a detachment  on  the  summit  of  the  precipice, 
who  were  ready,  on  a given  signal,  to  roll  down 
fragments  of  rock,  and  stones  of  an  enormous 
size,  on  the  embattled  phalanx.  This  was  the 
only  mode  of  attack,  for  which  the  Macedonians 
were  not  prepared.  The  line  of  march,  in 
which  the  moment  before  they  proceeded  with 
such  firmness  and  confidence,  was  converted 
into  a dreadful  scene  of  carnage  and  ruin.  Be- 
fore they  recovered  from  their  consternation, 
the  flying  Phocians,  who  had  decoyed  them 
into  this  ambush,  returned  to  the  charge.  Phi- 
lip, however,  rallied  his  men  ; and  while  Ono- 
marchus hesitated  to  advance,  drew  them  off 
in  good  order,  saying,  that  they  did  not  retreat 
through  fear,  but  retired  like  rams,  in  order  to 
strike  with  the  more  impetuous  vigour.1 

This  saying  was  finally  justified,  although 
the  Phocians  and  Lycophron  first  enjoyed  a 
short  triumph.  The  tyrant  established  himself, 
as  he  thought,  securely,  in  his  native  city  ; the 
Phocians,  reinforced  by  their  Thessalian  allies, 
again  invaded  Boeotia,  assaulted  and  took  Co- 
ronsea,  and  dreadfully  alarmed  the  Thebans,  by 
the  devastations  committed  in  the  very  centre 
of  their  territory.  But  the  time  of  vengeance 
arrived.  Philip  having  recruited  his  army,  re- 
turned into  Thessaly.  The  unsteady  partisans 
of  Lycophron,  had  they  determined  to  share  his 
danger,  would  have  proved  unable  to  support 
his  cause.  A considerable  portion  of  the  Thes- 
salians received  the  king  of  Macedon  as  their 
deliverer.  Onomarchus  was  thus  obliged  to 
withdraw  his  forces  from  Boeotia.  At  the  head 
of  twenty  thousand  foot  and  five  hundred  horse, 
he  marched  to  the  defence  of  Lycophron,  and 
was  met  by  the  enemy,  still  more  numerous,  on 
the  level  coast  of  Magnesia.  To  remind  his 
soldiers  that  they  fought  in  the  cause  of  Delphi 
and  of  heaven,  Philip  crowned  their  heads  with 
the  laurel  consecrated  to  Apollo,  and  adorned 
his  ensigns  and  standards  with  the  emblems 
and  attributes  of  that  divinity.2  Their  onset 
was  impetuous  and  fierce,  and  their  valour,  ani- 
mated by  enthusiasm,  rendered  them  irresisti- 
ble, though  the  enemy,  conscious  of  guilt,  fought 
with  the  fury  of  despair.  Three  thousand 
Thessalian  cavalry,  who  had  signally  contri- 
buted to  the  victory  of  Philip,  rendered  the 
pursuit  bloody  and  destructive  ; while  the  Pho- 
cians, having  thrown  away  their  armour,  fled 
towards  the  sea,  allured  by  the  sight  of  the 
Athenian  fleet  under  Chares,  which  was  re- 


1 Polyxen.  Strata".  1.  ii.  c.  xxviii.  Diodor.  1.  xvi. 
et  sen. 

3 Justin.  1.  vlii.  3. 


[Chaf. 

turning  from  the  Chersonesus.  That  com- 
mander seems  not  to  have  made  any  attempt 
to  protect  them.  Above  six  thousand  perished 
in  the  battle,  or  in  the  pursuit.  The  body  of 
Onomarchus  was  found  among  the  slain ; 
Philip  ordered  it  to  be  hung  on  a gibbet,  as  a 
mark  of  peculiar  infamy ; the  rest  were  thrown 
into  the  sea,  as  unworthy,  by  their  impious 
sacrilege,  of  the  rites  of  funeral.  Three  thou- 
sand were  taken  alive  ; but  it  is  not  absolutely 
certain  whether  they  were  drowned,  or  reduced 
into  captivity  ; though  the  latter  opinion  is  the 
more  probable.3 

It  might  be  expected  that  such  a decisive 
blow  should  have  proved  fatal  to  the  Phocians. 
But  Philip,  who  had  conquered  them  in  Thes- 
saly, durst  not  pursue  his  advantages  by  invad 
ing  Phocis ; well  knowing,  that  an  attempt  to 
pass  the  straits  of  Thermopylae  would  alarm 
not  only  his  enemies  but  his  allies.  It  was  his 
interest  to  perpetuate  dissensions  in  Greece. 
For  that  reason  he  fomented  the  discord  that 
reigned  among  the  states  of  Peloponnesus;  and 
though  he  had  punished  the  obnoxious  Pho- 
cians, he  was  unwilling  to  terminate  a war 
which  diverted  the  public  attention  from  watch- 
ing too  studiously  his  own  ambitious  designs. 
His  victory  over  an  odious  enemy  extended  his 
just  renown.  He  secured  the  dominion  of 
Thessaly,  by  planting  garrisons  in  Pherae,  Pe- 
gasae, and  Magnesia.  His  army  was  ready  to 
march  towards  Greece  on  the  first  favourable 
opportunity ; but  till  that  should  arrive,  he  re- 
joiced to  see  both  divisions  of  that  country  in- 
volved in  war,  which  allowed  him  to  accom- 
plish, unmolested,  the  subordinate  purposes  of 
his  reign.  He  had  long  deceived  the  Olynthi- 
ans  by  good  offices  and  promises,  but  now  be- 
gan to  throw  off  the  mask,  and  to  show  that 
he  meant  to  be  their  master.  He  actually  ap- 
plied to  Kersobleptes,  whom  he  detached  from 
the  interest  of  Athens  ; and  having  raised  him 
on  the  ruins  of  the  neighbouring  chieftains  of 
Thrace,  thereby  obtained  his  confidence,  and 
waited  an  occasion  to  destroy  him  with  secu- 
rity.4 The  dominions  of  that  prince  opened 
the  way  to  Byzantium,  the  possession  of  which 
must  have  early  tempted  the  ambition  of  Philip, 
who  knew  so  well  to  estimate  the  importance 
of  its  situation  both  in  commerce  and  in  war. 
He  began  to  discover  his  designs  against  Byzan- 
tium by  attacking  the  fortress  of  Heraeum,  a 
place  so  called  from  the  neighbouring  temple 


3 The  leaving  such  a circumstance  at  all  doubtful,  is 

very  dishonourable  to  the  accuracy  of  the  compiler  Diodo- 
rus. His  words  are,  rsKog  8s,  tu>v  Quixsw  xxt  /4«<rflo$of«>v 
*v>tfsS>!<r«v  fisv  ut ££  rouf  ovf,  sv  oif  >jv  xoe* 

xvt og  o a-r^xrviyog.  qKuxrxv  8s  ovx  £\*ttovj  tiov  t( itx^sxv. 
a 8s  <S?i\i7T7T0g  to v fjisv  Ovo/xxgxov  sxetfia-sv,  rovg  Ss  eeXXooj 
uig  isgorv\ovg  xxrsTrovTiirs.  Literally,  “At  length  above 
six  thousand  of  the  Phocians  and  mercenaries  were,  on  the 
one  hand,  taken  up  dead,  among  whom  was  the  general. 
Not  less  than  three  thousand  were,  on  the  other  hand,  ta- 
ken prisoners.  Philip  hung  up  Onomarchus,  and  threw  the 
rest  into  the  sea^as  guilty  of  sacrilege.”  The  learned 
reader  will  perceive,  that  I have  given  the  full  force  of  the 
word  xviiesSti <rxv  : a/id  from  the  precise  and  distinctive 
force  of  the  particles  /xsv  and  8s,  which  separate  the  two 
first  clauses  of  the  text,  I am  of  opinion  that  the  roof  sc\a.ovj 
can  apply  only  to  the  rest  of  those  who  were  taken  up 
dead.  There  is  nothing  determinate  to  be  learned  from  the 
word  xo£T£ jtovt i(T£,  which  signifies  barely  to  plunge  into 
'he  sea. 

4 Justin.  I.  viii.  3.  Demost.  Olynth.  3 et  3. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


379 


XXXIV.] 

of  Juno,  which  formed  its  principal  ornament. 
The  town  of  Heraeum  was  small,  and  in  itself 
unimportant ; its  harbour  was  dangerous  and 
deceitful ; but  being  situate  contiguous  to  By- 
zantium, it  served  as  an  outwork  and  defence 
to  that  rich  and  populous  city.5 

The  Athenians  had  sufficient  penetration  to 
discern  the  drift  of  those  enterprises.  They 
formed  an  alliance  with  the  republic  of  Olyn- 
thus  ; they  warned  Kersobleptes  of  his  danger ; 
they  voted  a numerous  fleet  to  sail  to  the  de- 
fence of  Heraeum,  or  rather  of  Byzantium,  with 
which,  though  rendered  independent  of  Athens 
by  the  social  war,  they  still  carried  on  a lucra- 
tive commerce.  But  these  spirited  exertions 
were  not  of  long  continuance.  Philip’s  wound 
at  Methone,  together  with  the  continual  labour 
and  fatigue  to  which  he  had  afterwards  sub- 
mitted, threw  him  into  a dangerous  malady. 
The  report  of  his  sickness  was,  before  it  reach- 
ed Athens,  magnified  into  his  death.  The 
Athenians  rejoiced  in  so  seasonable  a deliver- 
ance, and  laying  aside  their  naval  preparations, 
bent  their  principal  attention  to  the  sacred 
war.6 

q.  That  unhappy  contest  was  re- 

cviii  1 newed  by  Phayllus,  the  last  surviv- 
A C 352  brother  of  Philomelus  and  Ono- 
marchus.  As  his  cause  became 
more  desperate,  Phayllus  availed  himself  to 
the  utmost  of  the  only  resource  which  was  left 
him.  Having  converted  into  ready  money  the 
most  precious  dedications  of  Delphi,  he  doubled 
the  pay  of  his  mercenaries.  This  extraordinary 
encouragement  brought  new  adventurers  to  his 
standard,  and  soon  rendered  his  army  equal  to 
that  of  either  of  his  predecessors.  The  fugi- 
tive Thessalians,  assembled  in  a body  by  Ly- 
cophron,  entered  into  his  pay.  By  means  of 
the  Delphic  treasure,  he  acquired,  likewise,  the 
public  assistance  of  a thousand  Lacedaemoni- 
ans, two  thousand  Achaeans,  five  thousand 
Athenian  foot,  with  four  hundred  cavalry. 
These  powerful  reinforcements  enabled  the^ 
Phocians  to  take  the  field  with  a good  prospect 
of  success,  and  rendered  those  who  had  so 
lately  been  the  objects  of  pity,  again  formida- 
ble to  their  enemies.7 

Philip,  mean  while,  had  recovered  from  his 
indisposition.  The  votes  and  preparations  of 
the  Athenians  had  taught  him  that  his  designs 
could  no  longer  be  concealed.  He  was  ac- 
quainted with  the  alliance  formed  between  that 
republic  and  Olynthus.  His  emissaries  gave 
him  intelligence  of  the  actual  commotions  in 
Greece,  where  the  countenance  and  assistance 
of  so  many  powerful  states  abetted  the  sacri- 
lege of  the  Phocians.  The  occasion  required 
that  he  should  appear  in  favour  of  his  allies, 
and  in  defence  of  the  pious  cause  which  he  had 
formerly  maintained  with  so  much  glory.  His 
trophies  gained  over  Onomarchus  were  still 
fresh  and  blooming;  and  not  only  the  The- 
bans, Dorians,  and  Locrians,  who  were  princi- 
pals in  the  war,  but  the  sincere  votaries  of 
Apollo  in  every  quarter  of  Greece,  secretly  ex- 
pected him  as  their  deliverer : while  his  ene- 


mies admired  his  piety  and  trembled  at  his  va- 
lour ; and  as  they  had  been  lately  amused  with 
the  news  of  his  sickness  and  death,  they  would 
now  view  with  religious  terror  his  unexpected 
appearance  at  Thermopylae,  to  assert  the  vio- 
lated rights  of  the  Delphian  temple.  Such 
were  the  hopes  and  motives  on  which  Philip, 
at  the  head  of  a numerous  army,  directed  his 
march6  towards  those  celebrated  straits,  which 
we  have  formerly  described,  and  so  often  men- 
tioned. 

But  the  event  showed,  that  on  this  occasion 
he  had  made  a false  estimate  of  the  superstition 
or  timidity  of  the  Greeks,  and  particularly  had 
built  too  much  on  the  patience  and  indolence 
of  the  Athenians.  That  people  penetrated  his 
designs,  and  determined  to  oppose  them.  Un- 
der the  veil  of  religious  zeal,  they  doubted  not 
that  he  concealed  the  desire  to  invade  and  con- 
quer their  country  ; and,  on  the  first  intelli- 
gence of  his  expedition,  their  foresight  and 
patriotism  represented  the  Macedonians,  Thes- 
salians, and  Thebans,  pouring  down  like  a de- 
structive inundation,  on  Attica  and  Pelopon- 
nesus. With  an  alacrity  and  ardour,  of  which 
there  was  no  recent  example  in  their  councils, 
they  flew  to  arms,  launched  their  fleet,  sailed 
to  Thermopylae,  and  took  possession  of  the 
straits.9 

Never  did  Philip  meet  with  a more  cruel  dis- 
appointment, than  in  being  thus  anticipated  by 
a people  whom  he  had  so  often  deceived.  He 
retired  with  deep  regret,  leaving  the  Phocian 
war  to  be  carried  on  by  the  Thebans  and  their 
allies.  Mean  while,  the  Athenians  placed  a 
guard  at  Thermopylae  ; and,  elated  by  the  first 
instance  of  their  success  against  the  Macedo- 
nian, called  an  assembly  to  deliberate  on  mea- 
sures proper  to  restrain  his  ambition. 

This  assembly  is  rendered  memorable  by  the 
first  appearance  of  Demosthenes  against  Philip, 
whose  measures  from  this  moment  he  ceased 
not  to  watch,  and  to  counteract.  Two  years 
before,  this  illustrious  orator,  whose  works  have 
been  more  praised  than  read,  and  more  read 
than  understood,  began,  in  the  twenty-eighth 
year  of  his  age,  to  appear  on  the  theatre  of 
public  life.  The  Athenians  were  then  involved 
in  the  sacred  war ; their  northern  possessions 
were  continually  insulted,  plundered,  or  con- 
quered by  Philip ; yet  in  this  situation  of  af- 
fairs, the  mercenary  partisans  of  that  prince,  in 
order  to  divert  the  public  attention  from  his  too 
aspiring  designs,  affected  to  extend  their  views 
to  Asia,  and  to  be  alarmed  by  the  motions  of 
Artaxerxes  Ochus,  who  was  preparing  to  re- 
duce the  rebels  of  Cyprus,  Egypt,  and  Phoeni- 
cia. In  every  assembly  of  the  people,  the  crea- 
tures of  Philip  dwelt,  with  exaggerated  terror, 
on  the  naval  and  military  preparations  of  the 
great  king,  which  they  represented  as  certainly 
destined  to  revenge  the  recent  injuries  commit- 
ted by  the  Athenian  troops,  under  Chares,  on 
the  coast  of  Asia.  The  trophies  of  Miltiades, 
Themistocles,  and  Cimon,  were  adorned  with 
all  the  pomp  of  eloquence  ; and  the  Athenians 
were  exhorted  to  imitate  those  memorable  ex- 
ploits of  their  ancestors  in  the  Persian  war 


5 Justin.  1.  viii.  3.  Demost.  Olynth.  2 et  3. 

6 Id.  ubi  supra.  7 Diodor.  p.  43ft. 


8 Id.  1.  xvi.  p.  436. 

9 Demostlieu.  de  Falsa  T.eg&t.  sect.  29. 


380 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


which  shed  a lustre  on  all  the  succeeding  pe- 
riods of  their  history. 

In  this  popular  enthusiasm  joined  Isocrates 
the  orator,  together  with  the  statesman  and 
general  Phocion,  two  men  whose  talents  and 
virtues  would  have  done  honour  to  the  most 
illustrious  age  of  the  republic.  The  unblem- 
ished integrity  of  Isocrates,  the  disinterested 
poverty  of  Phocion,  afford  sufficient  proof  that 
neither  of  these  great  men  were  corrupted  by 
Macedonian  gold.  But  they  both  perceived 
the  indolence  and  unsteadiness  of  Athens  were 
incapable  to  contend  with  the  unceasing  acti- 
vity of  Philip,  and  both  exhorted  their  coun- 
trymen to  gain  and  cultivate  the  friendship  of 
a prince,  against  whom  they  could  not  make 
war  with  any  reasonable  prospect  of  success. 

Isocrates,  from  the  most  accurate  and  exten- 
sive survey  of  the  political  history  of  Greece, 
discovered  that  a foreign  war  alone  could  heal 
the  domestic  dissensions  which  reigned  in  every 
quarter  of  that  divided  country ; and  from  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  the  inherent  defects  in 
the  government  of  Thebes,  Athens,  and  Sparta, 
he  regarded  Macedon  as  the  state,  and  Philip 
as  the  general,  best  entitled,  and  best  qualified, 
to  assume  the  command  of  a military  expedi- 
tion into  Asia,  to  revenge  ancient  wrongs,  and 
to  deliver  the  Grecian  colonies  from  the  actual 
oppression  of  Barbarians.  On  this  important 
subject  he  addressed  a discourse  to  Philip  ; he 
repeatedly  insisted  on  the  same  topic  with  the 
Athenians ; and  it  is  obscurely  related,  that  on 
one  occasion  he  reconciled  those  hostile  pow- 
ers,1 and  engaged  them  to  concur  in  this  ex- 
tensive yet  rational  scheme  of  conquest. 

The  sentiments  and  views  of  Demosthenes 
were  equally  different  from  those  of  Isocrates 
and  Phocion  on  the  one  hand,  and  from  those 
of  the  infamous  hirelings  of  Philip  on  the  Other. 
None  knew  better  than  he  did  the  corruption 
and  degeneracy  of  his  countrymen ; but  he 
hoped  to  rouse  them  from  their  lethargy ; a de- 
sign, arduous  as  it  may  seem,  sometimes  effect- 
ed by  his  eloquence,  the  most  powerful,  glow- 
ing, and  sublime,  ever  employed  by  man  ; and 
which,  of  all  men,  he  had  been  at  most  pains 
to  acquire  and  cultivate.2  His  imagination 
was  filled  with  the  ancient  glory  of  the  repub- 
lic ; in  the  ardour  of  patriotism  he  forgot  the 
moderation  of  philosophy ; and  while  he  sternly 
maintained  the  prerogatives  and  pretensions  of 
his  country,  he  would  rather  have  seen  Athens 
defeated  at  the  head  of  her  allies,  than  victori- 
ous under  the  standard  of  the  Macedonians,  or 
any  standard  but  her  own.  With  such  senti- 
ments and  character,  he  was  naturally  a favour- 
ite of  the  people,  and  a warm  partisan  of  po- 
pular government;  while  Phocion,  like  most 
men  of  sense  and  worth  in  that  age,  preferred 
a moderate  aristocracy  ; and  Isocrates  was  in- 
clined to  regard  a well-regulated  monarchy  as 
the  best  of  all  governments.3 

In  his  first  speeches  before  the  assembly,  De- 
mosthenes announced  himself  as  the  minister 
of  the  people  at  large,  whom  he  exhorted  to 


_ 1 See  the  life  of  Isocrates,  prefixed  to  my  translation  of 
liis  works. 

2 Dionys.  Halicam.  etPlut.  de  Demost. 

3 See  his  Nicoelea,  Evageras,  &c. 


awaken  from  their  indolence,  and  at  length  to 
assume  the  direction  of  their  own  affairs.  They 
had  been  too  long  governed  by  the  incapacity 
of  a few  ambitious  men,  to  the  great  detriment 
and  disgrace  of  the  community.  First  an  ora- 
tor at  the  head  of  all,  under  him  a general 
abetted  by  a faction  of  three  or  four  hundred, 
availed  themselves  of  the  sloth  and  negligence 
of  a people  careless  of  every  thing  but  pleasure, 
to  domineer  in  the  public  councils,  and  to  be- 
come masters  of  the  state.  From  considerations 
of  their  present  corruption  and  weakness,  as 
well  as  of  the  designs  and  commotions  of  neigh- 
bouring powers,  he  advised  them  to  forsake  all 
distant  and  romantic  schemes  of  ambitiort;  and, 
instead  of  carrying  their  arms  into  remote  coun- 
tries, to  prepare  for  repelling  the  attacks  that 
might  be  made  against  their  own  dominions. 
He  insisted  earnestly  on  a better  regulation  of 
their  finances,  on  the  retrenching  of  many  su- 
perfluous branches  of  expense,  ?md  especially  on 
a more  equitable  repartition  of  public  burdens, 
in  proportion  to  the  fortunes  of  individuals; 
which,  though  the  income  of  the  state  had 
dwindled  to  four  hundred  talents,  were  actually 
more  considerable  than  at  any  former  period. 
While  the  rich  cheerfully  paid  their  contribu- 
tions, the  poor  must  be  willing  to  forego  the 
burdensome  gratuities  which  they  derived  from 
the  treasury  ; and  all  must  be  ready  to  take  the 
field  in  person,  that  the  public  service  might  be 
no  longer  betrayed,  or  disgraced,  by  strangers 
and  mercenaries.4 

Subsequent  events  justified  the  opinions,  and 
enforced  the  counsels  of  Demosthenes.  The 
Athenians  were  delivered  from  their  ill-ground- 
ed fears  of  Artaxerxes  Ochus,  when  they  beheld 
the  preparations  of  that  monarch  directed 
against  his  rebellious  subjects.  The  encroach- 
ments of  Philip  became  continually  more  dar- 
ing and  more  formidable;  and  his  recent  at- 
tempts to  seize  the  straits  of  Thermopylae 
showed  the  necessity  of  opposing  him  with 
re-united  vigilance  and  vigour. 

In  this  juncture,  so  favourable  to  awakening 
the  activity  of  Athens,  Demosthenes  mounted 
the  rostrum5  before  any  other  orator,  apologiz- 
ing for  this  forwardness  in  a man  not  yet  thirty 
years  of  age,  by  observing,  “ That  already  the 
usual  speakers  had  given  their  opinions  on  the 
subject  of  Philip;  and  that,  had  their  advices 
been  useful  and  practicable,  they  must  have 
precluded  the  necessity  of  any  further  deliber- 
ation. First  of  all,  Athenians  ! you  ought  not 
to  despair;  no  ! not  although  your  affairs  seem 
indeed  involved  in  equal  confusion  and  danger. 
For  the  same  circumstance  which  is  the  cause 
of  your  past  misfortunes,  ought  to  furnish  the 
source  of  your  present  hope.  What  is  that? 
Your  own  negligence  and  sloth,  not  the  power 
of  your  enemies,  have  disordered  the  state. 
Had  your  distress  arisen,  notwithstanding  your 
utmost  care  to  prevent  it,  there  would  then  be 
little  hope  of  relief.  But  since  it  is  occasioned 
by  your  own  misconduct,  you  need  only  repair 
your  errors,  in  order  to  retrieve  your  affairs. 


4 Vid.  Oration,  de  Classibus,  et  de  Ordinand.  Republic. 

5 I have  used  that  word,  because  adopted  in  our  language 

to  express  the  pulpit  or  gallery  appropriated  to  me 

speakers  in  the  Athenian  assembly. 


381 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


XXXIV.] 

Considering  the  weakness  of  Athens,  thus  de- 
spoiled of  her  dominions,  and  the  strength  of 
Philip,  which  has  increased  immoderately  at 
our  expense,  should  you  think  him  a formidable 
enemy,  you  doubtless  think  aright.  Yet  reflect, 
Athenians ! that  there  was  a time  when  we  pos- 
sessed Pydna,  Potidaea,  Methone,  and  all  the 
surrounding  territory  ; that  the  nations  in  that 
neighbourhood,  now  subject  to  Philip,  were  then 
independent,  and  preferred  the  alliance  of 
Athens  to  that  of  Macedon.  In  the  infancy 
of  his  fortune,  had  Philip  reasoned  timidly,  as 
we  do  now,  ‘ How  shall  I,  destitute  of  allies, 
attack  the  Athenians,  whose  garrisons  com- 
mand my  frontier?’  he  would  not  have  engag- 
ed in  those  enterprises  which  have  been  crown- 
ed with  such  signal  success,  nor  raised  his  king- 
dom to  such  an  unexampled  pitch  of  grandeur. 
No,  Athenians!  he  knew  well,  that  towns  and 
fortresses  are  but  prizes  of  skill  and  valour6 
proposed  to  the  combatants,  and  belong  of  right 
to  the  conqueror;  that  the  dominions  of  the 
absent  are  seized  by  those  who  take  the  field, 
and  the  possessions  of  the  negligent  and  sloth- 
ful by  the  vigilant  and  intrepid.  Guided  by 
these  principles,  he  has  subdued,  and  governs 
all;  holding  some  communities  by  right  of  con- 
quest, and  others  under  the  title  of  allies ; for 
allies  no  prince  nor  state  can  want,  who  are  not 
wanting  to  themselves.  But  should  you,  Athe- 
nians! imitate  the  example  of  Philip,  and  at 
length,  rousing  from  your  lethargy,  apply  se- 
riously to  your  interest,  you  would  speedily  re- 
cover those  advantages  which  your  negligence 
only  has  lost.  Favourable  occasions  will  yet 
occur;  for  you  must  not  imagine  that  Philip, 
like  a god,  enjoys  his  prosperity  for  ever  fixed 
and  immutable.7 8  No,  Athenians!  there  are 
who  hate  him,  who  fear  him,  who  envy  him, 
even  among  those  seemingly  the  most  devoted 
to  his  cause.  These  are  universal  passions, 
from  which  the  allies  of  Macedon  are  not,  sure- 
ly, exempted.  They  have  hitherto  concealed 
them,  finding  no  resource  in  you;  but  it  depends 
on  your  councils  to  call  them  into  action. 
When,  therefore,  O my  countrymen ! when  will 
you  exert  your  vigour?  when  roused  by  some 
event — when  urged  by  some  necessity — What 
can  be  more  urgent  than  the  present  juncture? 
To  freemen,  the  most  necessary  of  all  motives 
is  the  shame  of  misconduct.  Or  say,  will  it 
still  be  your  sole  business  to  saunter  in  the  pub- 
lic place,  inquiring  after  news  ? What  can  be 
more  new,  than  that  a Macedonian  should  con- 
quer Athens,  and  enslave  Greece?  Is  Philip 
dead  ? No,  but  in  great  danger.  How  are  you 
concerned  in  these  rumours  ? What  matters  it 
to  you  whether  he  is  sick  or  dead,  since,  if  you 
thus  manage  your  affairs,  your  folly  will  soon 
raise  up  another  Philip  ?s 

6 Au'  oi Siv1  <o  xvSgeg  A5>jvx»o»,  tooto  xx\uig  ixeivog, 

OT l TXUTse  pLlV  STT i X7T  XVT  X T»  % OglX  xfl\X  TOO  7TOX.6/4WO 

xnfnvx  /xktu).  In  ancient  times  the  figure  had  more 
force,  as  well  as  dignity ; because  at  the  Olympic,  and 
other  sacred  games,  the  spectators  were  used  to  behold  the 
prizes  proposed  to  the  victors,  xti/u evx  ev  /m o-u>,  exposed  in 
the  middle  of  the  field,  to  excite  their  emulation  and  ardour. 
See  page  66. 

7 The  original  is  inimitable:  m yxg  o>f  Sta>  vofii'Ctr' 
ixcivu  r x nxgovxx  7ri7r v\ysvxi  irgxy/zxTX  xSxvxtx.  Join 
the  t«  and  the  irgxyixxrx,  the  article  and  the  substantive, 
and  the  charm  will  be  dissolved. 

8 The  sense  indeed  of  that  period,  but  neither  its  force 


After  this  animated  remonstrance,  Demos- 
thenes proposes  a plan  of  operations  calculated 
chiefly  for  defence.  The  Athenians,  he  observes, 
were  not  yet  prepared  to  meet  Philip  in  the 
field.  They  must  begin  by  protecting  Olyn- 
thus,  and  the  Chersonesus,  from  his  incursions. 
For  this  purpose,  it  was  necessary  to  raise  a 
body  of  two  thousand  men  light-armed,  and  an 
adequate  proportion  of  cavalry,  which  were  to 
be  transported  under  a proper  convoy  (as  Philip 
had  his  fleet)  with  all  expedition  to  the  isles  of 
Lemnos,  Thasos,  and  Sciathos,  contiguous  to 
the  coast  of  Macedon.  Conveniently  posted  in 
those  islands,  where  they  would  enjoy  necessa- 
ries in  abundance,  the  Athenian  troops  might 
avail  themselves  of  every  favourable  incident, 
to  appear  at  the  first  summons  of  their  allies, 
and  either  to  repel  the*  inroads  of  the  Macedo- 
nians, or  to  harass  the  extended,  and,  in  many 
parts,  defenceless  territory  of  that  people. 
Mean  while,  preparations  would  be  made  at 
home  for  carrying  on  the  war  in  due  time,  with 
more  numerous  forces,  and  with  greater  vigour. 
Such  moderate  proposals  prove  that  Demos- 
thenes well  understood  the  genius  of  his  coun- 
trymen. He  required  that  only  the  fourth  part 
of  the  troops  should  consist  of  Athenian  citi- 
zens, and  the  immediate  supplies  were  only  to 
amount  to  ninety  talents.  He  knew  that  higher 
demands  would  alarm  their  indolence  and  love 
of  pleasure ; and  so  fatally  were  they  sunk  in 
the  dissipated  amusements  of  the  city,  that  it  is 
probable  the  small  armament  proposed  did  not 
actually  set  sail;  it  is  certain  that  no  future 
preparations  were  made  adequate  to  the  public 
service. 

The  profound  policy  of  Philip  fostered  the 
supine  negligence  of  his  enemies.  For  more 
than  two  years  after  his  retreat  from  Thermo- 
pylae, that  crafty  prince  much  confined  himself 
to  his  dominions,  and  chiefly  to  his  capital,  anx- 
ious to  dissipate  the  clamour  occasioned  by  his 
too  great  precipitation  to  seize  the  gates  of 
Greece.  In  that  interval  he  indeed  made  an 
expedition  to  chastise  the  rebellious  spirit  of  the 
A C 3r0  Thessalians.  But  the  greatest  part 

* , „ * of  his  time  was  spent  at  Pella,  and 
an  u * addicted  to  the  arts  of  peace,  which 
he  judged  with  skill,  and  encouraged  with 
munificence.  That  favourite  city  was  adorned 
with  temples,  theatres,  and  porticoes.  The  most 
ingenious  artists  of  Greece  w7ere  summoned,  by 
liberal  rewards,  to  the  court  of  Macedon  ;9 
and  men  of  talents  and  genius,16  who  were 
too  often  exposed  to  envy  and  persecution  in 
the  former  country,  were  received  with  open 
arms  by  a prince,  who,  amidst  the  tumult  of 
war,  assiduously  cultivated  the  studies  of  litera- 
ture and  eloquence.  In  his  domestic  govern- 
ment, Philip  administered  justice  with  impar- 
tiality, listened  with  condescension  to  the  com- 


nor  its  harmony,  can  be  translated.  TeSvtfxe  <t>i\i7T7rog  • ou 
lj.x  t\  ix  ! x\\'  xcrSevci- Tt  8 s v/xiv  8ix$egti  \ xxi  yxg  xv 
ovrog  T ( 7Tx9>!,  U/«S»f  ITSgOV  <t>i\«W7rov  wonjcrtre,  xv 

7T6g  ovria  7rgotri%>iTS  roig  7rgxyy.xTi  tov  vow  ou 8e  yxg 
ourof  vrxgx  t>)V  exurou  gwftyv  tootoutoi/  e^nu^tjTXi,  oiroi; 
oragx  rt/v  vfieregxv  x/usKstxv. 

9 Justin.  1.  viii.  c.  3. 

10  Among  other  Greeks  who  lived  at  Philip’s  court  were 
Leosthenes  the  orator,  Neoptolemus  the  poet,  Aristodemus 
and  Satyrus,  celebrated  players.  iEschin.  et  Demosthen. 
passim. 


382 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


plaints  of  his  meanest  subjects,  and  disdaining 
the  ceremonious  and  forbidding  pomp  of  tyran- 
ny, maintained  an  intercourse  of  visits  and  en- 
tertainments with  his  courtiers  and  generals.1 

In  a prince  so  respectably  employed,  it  is  dif- 
ficult to  conceive  the  odious  and  detestable  vices 
with  which  Philip  is  upbraided  by  Demos- 
thenes ;2  yet  the  brief  descriptions  occasionally 
sketched  by  the  orator  are  filled  up  by  an  an- 
cient historian,  who  represents  the  infamies  of 
the  life  of  Philip  in  language  well  fitted  to  ar- 
raign the  horrors  of  Nero  or  Heliogabalus. 
Could  we  believe  the  acrimony  of  Theopom- 
pus,  a writer  who  flourished  in  the  age  of  Alex- 
ander, by  whom  he  was  rewarded  and  honour- 
ed, not  perhaps  the  less  willingly  because  he 
had  exposed  or  exaggerated  the  vices  of  his  fa- 
ther, Philip  sullied  his  great  action^  by  the  most 
enormous  and  detestable  crimes.  Alike  avari- 
cious and  prodigal,  the  wealth  which  he  had 
amassed  by  injustice  and  rapacity,  he  dissipated 
in  the  most  flagitious  gratifications,  and  in  com- 
pany with  the  meanest  and  most  worthless  of 
mankind.  His  companions  were  chosen  pro- 
miscuously from  Macedonians  and  Greeks,  and 
especially  from  Thessalians,  the  most  profligate 
of  the  Greeks,  and  were  admitted  to  his  fami- 
liarity and  friendship,  in  proportion  to  their 
proficiency  in  the  most  odious  and  unnatural 
abominations3  that  ever  polluted  the  worst  men 


1 Plut.  in  Apophth.  et  in  Demosthen.  et  Alexand. 

2 Vid.  Demosthen.  ex.  edit.  Wolf.  pp.  5,  8,  48,  66,  &c. 

3 The  epithets  given  them  by  Theopompus  areBJeXugot, 
abominabiles ; and  kxa-Txugoi ; the  last  word  is  compound- 
ed of  kx,  valde,  and  Txvgog,  taurus  ; and  translated  inseg- 
nitur  mentulatus , which  corresponds  to  the  enorviitas 
membrorum  of  the  Augustan  historians.  The  following 
description  of  the  friends  of  Philip  is  too  indecent  for  mo- 
dern language : “ Horum  enim  quidam  jam  viri  barbam 
identidem  radebant  et  vellebantur : alii  vero  barbati  citra 
pudorem  vicissim  se  impudicabant,  stupris  intercutibus  se 
flagitantes ; regi  vero  duo  vel  tres  circumducebantur  qui 
paterentur  muliebria,  et  eandem  operam  navarent  alios 
subagitantes.  Q.uamobrem  illos  jure  aliquis  non  amicos 
regis,  sed  arnicas  esse  credidisset,  nec  milites  sed  pros- 
tibula  noncupasset,  ingenio  quidem  et  natura  sanguina- 
rios,  moribus  autem  virilia  scorta,  &c.”  This  passage 
is  quoted  from  the  forty-ninth  book  of  Theopompus.  In 
his  twenty-sixth  book  he  speaks  to  the  same  purpose: 
“ Philippum  cum  Thessalos  intemperantes  esse,  ac  lascivs 
petulantisque  vitae  prospiceret,  eorum  conventus  ac  con- 
tubernia  instituisse;  iisque  uti  placeret  modis  omnibus 
fuisse  conatum,  cum  illis  sallasse,  commissatum  fuisse, 
cuivis  libidini  se  ac  nequitite  tradidisse.”  A mistaken  pas- 
sage of  Diodorus  has  made  some  learned  men  doubt  the 
authenticity  of  these  descriptions.  Diodorus  (1.  xvi.  sect.  3.) 
says,  that  Theopompus  yiygx$ svxi  oxrco  fit, &kovg,  trgog 
roig  trivTuxovTx  wv  ttivts  SixQwv ova-i  ; “ had  written 
the  history  of  Philip  in  fifly-eight  books,  five  of  which  differ 


in  the  most  corrupt  ages  of  the  world.  We 
must,  doubtless,  make  allowances  for  the  gall  of 
a writer,  noted  to  a proverb  for  severity.  Yet 
there  is  sufficient  collateral  evidence,  that  Phi- 
lip’s strong  propensity  to  low  wTit,  obscenity, 
and  drunkenness,  rendered  him  a prey  to  buf- 
foons, parasites,  and  flatterers,  and  all  the 
worthless  retinue  of  intemperance  and  folly 
These  disgraceful  associates  of  the  prince,  form- 
ed, in  time  of  war,  a regiment  apart,  of  about 
eight  hundred  men,  whose  gradual  waste  was 
continually  recruited  by  new  members,  who 
either  were,  or  soon  became,  worthy  of  the  old ; 
for,  as  we  shall  soon  have  occasion  to  relate,  the 
whole  band  were  alike  cowardly  and  profligate. 

But  in  whatever  manner  Philip  employed  his 
private  hours,  he  at  no  time  lost  sight  of  those 
great  principles  of  policy  which  regulated  his 
public  administration.  Under  pretence  of  want- 
ing money  to  supply  the  expense  of  his  build- 
ings, and  other  public  works,  he  employed  an 
expedient  which  is  well  known  in  latter  times, 
and  which  has  been  carried  to  such  excess  as 
threatens  the  safety  of  those  governments  which 
it  was  intended  to  uphold.  The  letting  loose  of 
the  Delphic  treasures  had  diffused  near  a mil- 
lion sterling  over  Greece.4  The  unsettled  state 
of  that  country  rendered  those  who  had  ac- 
quired wealth  very  uncertain  of  enjoying  it. 
With  the  rich  and  avaricious,  Philip  employed 
proper  agents  to  take  up5  money  at  high  in- 
terest, which  procured  him  two  advantages  of 
a very  important  kind,  the  attaching  to  his  go- 
vernment and  person  a numerous  and  power- 
ful band  of  creditors  ; and  the  enabling  him  to 
pay,  under  the  title  of  debts,  and  therefore  with- 
out suspicion,  the  various  pensions  and  gra- 
tuities by  which  he  maintained  his  influence 
among  the  orators  and  leading  men  in  the 
several  republics. 


in  style  from  the  rest.”  Were  we  therefore  to  suppose  the 
five  last  books  spurious  (for  that  is  the  inference  which  has 
been  drawn,)  the  observation  of  Diodorus  would  not  at  all 
affect  the  passages  above  cited. 

4 The  sacred  war  lasted  ten  years,  and  cost  the  Phocians 
ten  thousand  talents,  near  two  millions;  it  had  already 
lasted  five  years,  and  may  be  supposed  to  have  cost  near 
the  half  of  that  sum.  Diodor.  1.  xvi.  p.  453.  He  6ays,  that 
the  gold  and  silver  dedications  (which  were  coined  into 
money)  virtg&xkksiv  rx  yvgix  txKxvtx,  “exceeded  ten 
thousand  talents a prodigious  sum  (considering  the  rela- 
tive value  of  money  in  those  days,)  of  which  the  sudden 
diffusion  could  not  fail  to  produce  most  important  conse- 
quences. 

5 Justin,  viii.  3. 


XXXV.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


383 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


Negligence  and  Licentiousness  of  the  Athenians — Philipps  Intrigues  in  Eubcea — Phocion  defeats 
the  Macedonians  and  Eubceans — Philip  invades  the  Olynthian  Territory — Demosthenes's  Ora- 
tions in  favour  of  the  Olynthians — Expedition  of  Chares — Philip  takes  Olynthus — Celebrates 
the  Festival  of  the  Muses  at  Dium — Commits  naval  Depredations  on  Attica — His  Embassy  to 
Athens — The  Athenian  Embassy  to  Philip — Character  of  the  Ambassadors — Their  Conference 
with  the  King — Differently  reported  to  the  Senate  and  Assembly — Philip's  Conquests  in  Thrace 
— The  Phocian  War — Negotiations — Philip's  Intrigues — Decree  of  the  Amphictyons  against 
Phocis — Executed  by  Philip — Macedon  acknowledged  the  principal  Member  of  the  Amphic- 
tyonic  Council. 


Olvrrm  'T'HE  Athenians,  deceived  by  the 
cvu  4 ^ inactivity  of  the  king  ofMace- 

A C 349  ^°n’  themselves  without 

reserye,  in  their  favourite  amuse- 
ments. Their  confederates,  the  Phocians,  were 
abandoned  ; the  war  with  Philip,  in  which  they 
might  well  have  considered  themselves  as  prin- 
cipals, was  neglected.  Magistrates  and  people 
seemed  solely  attentive  to  regulate  public  fes- 
tivals and  processions,  and  to  ascertain  the  re- 
spective merit  of  dramatic  poets  and  performers. 
The  fund  originally  intended  for  the  exigences 
of  war,  had  already  been  appropriated  to  the 
theatre  ; and  a law  was  now  enacted,  on  the 
motion  of  Eubulus,  an  artful  flatterer  of  the 
multitude,  rendering  it  a capital  crime  to  pro- 
pose altering  this  unexampled  and  most  whim- 
sical destination.  It  was  in  vain  for  Demos- 
thenes to  resist  the  popular  torrent.  He  was 
opposed  and  overcome  by  Eubulus  and  De- 
mades,  the  latter  of  whom,  with  talents  that 
might  have  adorned  his  country,  condescended 
to  sell  its  interests  to  the  public  enemy. 

Born  in  the  lowest  condition  of  life,  Demades 
retained  the  vices  of  his  birth;  and  always  dis- 
covered that  sordid  spirit,  and  weltered  in  those 
brutal  excesses,  which  betray  the  want  of  early 
culture.  Yet  the  acuteness  of  his  apprehension, 
the  strength  of  his  reason  and  memory,  and, 
above  all,  the  bold  and  copious  flow  of  his  un- 
premeditated eloquence,  in  which  he  was  allow- 
ed to  excel  even  Demosthenes6  himself,  raised 
him  to  a conspicuous  rank  in  the  assembly  ; 
and  it  being  his  business,  as  the  hireling  of 
Philip,  to  sail  along  with  the  stream  of  popular 
frenzy,  which  the  patriotism  of  his  rival  en- 
deavoured to  struggle  with,  and  to  stem,  he 
possessed  a free  and  ample  scope  for  exercising 
his  abilities. 

Q,  The  people  of  Athens  triumphed 

evil  4 *n  victory  perfidious  dema- 
A C 349  £°&ues  over  wisest  and  best  of 
their  fellow  citizens,  or  rather  over 
the  laws  and  constitution  of  their  country, 
when  Philip  began  to  play  those  batteries  which 
he  had  patiently  raised  with  such  skill  and  se- 
crecy. The  island  of  Eubcea,  which  he  called 
the  fetters  of  Greece,  was  the  first  object  of  his 
attack.  Since  the  expulsion  of  the  Thebans, 
of  which  we  have  formerly  taken  notice,  the 
Athenians  had  preserved  their  interest  in  the 
island,  where  they  maintained  a small  body  of 
troops.  The  different  cities,  however,  enjoyed 


6 Plutarch,  in  Demosthon. 


the  independent  government  of  their  own  laws; 
they  appointed  their  own  magistrates ; they 
sometimes  made  war  against  each  other ; and 
separately  assumed  the  prerogatives  of  free  and 
sovereign  states,  while  they  all  collectively  ac- 
knowledged their  dependence  on  Athens.  Such 
political  arrangements  made  room  for  the  in- 
trigues of  Philip.  He  fomented  their  civil  dis- 
cord ; gained  partisans  in  each  city  ; and,  at 
length,  under  colour  of  protecting  his  allies, 
landed  several  Macedonian  battalions  in  tne 
island.7 

Matters  were  soon  disposed  to  his  wish.  The 
Macedonians  were  allowed  to  occupy  the  most 
advantageous  posts.  The  Athenian  party  ex- 
claimed and  threatened ; but  Plutarch,  the 
leader  of  that  party,  was  gained  to  the  interests 
of  Philip,  and  demanded  auxiliaries  from  Athens 
only  to  betray  them  into  the  hands  of  their 
enemies.  Demosthenes,  who  alone  penetrated 
this  dark  scheme  of  villany,  entreated  and  con- 
jured his  countrymen  to  put  no  confidence  in 
Plutarch.  But  he  was  single  in  his  opinion. 
The  confidants  of  Philip  were  true  to  their 
master,  and  therefore  urged  the  expedition. 
The  friends  of  their  country  were  eager  to  save 
the  isle  of  Eubcea,  and  the  capricious  multi- 
tude, ever  in  extremes,  rushed  with  as  much 
impetuosity  to  an  enterprise  intended  for  their 
ruin,  as  they  had  long  shown  backwardness  to 
engage  in  every  other.8  The  promptitude  and 
vigour  of  their  preparations  much  exceeded  the 
expectation,  and  even  alarmed  the  fears,  of  the 
Macedonian  faction.  But  the  latter  had  gone 
too  far  to  retreat;  nor  could  they  foresee  the 
consequences  that  happened,  so  contrary  to 
their  hopes.  The  Athenians,  in  fact,  obtained 
a decisive  victory,  not  by  the  strength  of  their 
arms,  which  was  inferior  to  the  enemy’s,  but 
by  the  wise  choice  of  a general. 

The  consummate  prudence  of  Phocion,  who, 
on  his  arrival  in  Eubcea,  found  things  in  a 
worse  state  than  had  been  represented,  risked 
no  chance  of  defeat,  and  lost  no  opportunity  of 
advantage.9  Having  chosen  a favourable  post, 
which  was  on  all  sides  surrounded  by  broken 
and  uneven  ground,  he  despised  the  clamours 
of  his  men  and  the  insults  of  the  enemy.  The 
treacherous  Plutarch  was  quickly  defeated  in 
a mock  battle,  in  which  he  fell  back  on  the 
Athenian  cavalry,  who  fled  in  disorder  to  the 


7 j^Eschin.  in  Ctesiphont.  et  Demosth.  de  Falsa  Legatione 
et  de  Pace. 

8 Demosth.  de  Pace. 

9 Plutarch,  in  Phocion. 


384 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


camp  of  Phocion.  The  Eubceans  and  Mace- 
donians pursued  with  a rash  and  intemperate 
ardour  ; and  elated  with  victory,  and  confident 
in  their  superior  numbers,  prepared  to  assail  the 
camp.  The  general,  mean  while,  performed  a 
sacrifice,  which  he  studiously  prolonged,  either 
from  religion  or  policy,  until  he  beheld  the  dis- 
order of  the  assailants,  embarrassed  by  the  un- 
equal ground,  and  by  their  own  rashness.  He 
then  commanded  his  men  to  stand  to  their 
arms,  and  sallying  from  his  intrenchments  with 
intrepid  valour,  increased  the  confusion  of  the 
enemy,  who  were  repelled  with  great  slaughter 
towards  the  plain  which  they  had  at  first  occu- 
pied. The  activity  of  Cleophanes,  who  had 
rallied  and  formed  the  Athenian  cavalry,  ren- 
dered the  victory  complete.  The  remains  of 
the  vanquished  took  refuge  in  the  fortress  of 
Zeratra,  in  the  northern  corner  of  the  island, 
which,  being  attacked,  made  a feeble  resistance.1 
The  garrison  surrendered ; but  Phocion  restor- 
ed all  the  Eubceans  to  liberty,  lest  the  people 
of  Athens,  inflamed  by  their  popular  leaders, 
might  treat  them  with  that  cruelty,  which,  on 
a similar  occasion,  they  had  inflicted  on  the  re- 
bellious citizens  of  Mitylene.2  Having  spent  a 
few  weeks  in  settling  the  affairs  of  the  island, 
he  returned  in  triumph  to  Athens,  his  ships 
drawn  up  in  line  of  battle,  their  stems  crowned 
with  garlands,  and  the  rowers  keeping  time  to 
the  sound  of  martial  music.  His  fellow  citizens 
received  him  with  acclamations  of  joy ; but 
their  imprudence  did  not  allow  them  to  reap 
the  fruits  of  his  success.  Molossus,  an  obscure 
stranger,  was  appointed,  by  cabal,  to  command 
the  troops  left  in  the  island  ; and  Philip,  having 
renewed  his  intrigues,  carried  them  on  with  the 
same  dexterity,  and  met  with  better  success.3 

It  is  worthy  of  attention,  that  Demosthenes 
followed  the  standard  of  Phocion  to  Euboea, 
though  he  had  strongly  disapproved  the  expe- 
dition. Both  he  and  his  rival  AEschines,  of  whom 
we  shall  soon  have  occasion  to  speak  more  fully, 
served  in  the  cavalry.  Demosthenes  was  re- 
proached with  being  the  first  who  deserted  his 
rank,  and  among  the  last  who  returned  to  the 
charge.  AEschines  behaved  with  distinguished 
gallantry,  and  had  the  honour  of  being  appoint- 
ed by  Phocion  to  carry  home  the  first  intelli- 
gence of  the  victory.4 

qi  Philip’s  disappointment  in  Eu- 

cvn  4 ^oea  on^  stimulated  his  activity. 
A C 349  were  sPread  so  widely  all 

around  him,  that  when  one  part 
failed  he  could  catch  his  prey  in  another. 
The  Olynthians,  against  whom  he  seemed  to 
have  long  forgotten  his  resentment,  were  asto- 
nished to  observe  that  several  of  their  citizens 
grew  rich  and  great  in  a manner  equally  sudden 
and  unaccountable ; and  that  they  enlarged 
their  possessions,  built  stately  palaces,  and  dis- 
played a degree  of  magnificence  and  grandeur 
hitherto  unknown  in  their  frugal  republic.  The 
unexpected  invasion  of  Philip  revealed  the  mys- 
tery. A considerable  party  had  grown  wealthy 
by  betraying  the  secrets,  exposing  the  weakness, 


1 Plut.  in  Phocion. 

2 See  above,  c.  xvi.  p.  197. 

3 Plut.  in  Phocion. 

4 iEschin.  de  Falsa  Legatione,  et  Demost.  in  Rlidiam. 


[Chap. 

and  fostering  the  ill-timed  security  of  their 
country.5  Their  influence  at  home  had  recom- 
mended them  to  Philip,  and  the  wages  of  their 
iniquity  had  increased  that  influence.  It  would 
not.probably  have  been  difficult  to  prove  their 
treason,  but  it  seemed  dangerous  to  punish  it ; 
and  the  Olynthians  were  more  immediately 
concerned  to  repel  the  open  ravages  of  their 
territory.  In  this  emergency  they  trusted  not 
to  their  domestic  forces  of  ten  thousand  foot 
and  one  thousand  horse,6  but  sent  an  embassy 
to  Athens,  inveighing  in  the  strongest  terms 
against  Philip,  who  had  first  courted,  then  de- 
ceived, and  at  last  invaded  and  attacked  them  ; 
and  craving  assistance  from  the  Athenians,  in 
consequence  of  the  alliance  formerly  concluded 
between  the  two  republics,  to  defeat  the  de- 
signs of  a tyrant  equally  daring  and  perfidious. 

Had  the  people  of  Athens  heartily  undertaken 
the  cause  of  Olynthus,  Philip  would  have  been 
exposed  a second  time  to  the  danger  which  he 
had  eluded  with  so  much  address  in  the  begin- 
ning of  his  reign.  Thebes  wTas  employed  and 
exhausted  in  the  Phocian  war;  the  grandeur  of 
Sparta  had  decayed  as  much  as  her  principles 
had  degenerated;  the  inferior  states  extended 
not  their  views  of  policy  beyond  their  respective 
districts.  But  the  Athenians,  recently  success- 
ful in  Euboea,  and  reinforced  by  the  strength 
and  resentment  of  such  a republic  as  Olynthus, 
might  have  still  rendered  themselves  formida- 
ble to  the  public  enemy,  especially  as  at  this 
juncture  the  rebellious  humours  of  the  Thessa- 
lians broke  out  afresh,  and  led  them  capriciously 
to  oppose,  with  as  much  eagerness  as  they  had 
often  helped  to  promote,  the  interest  of  Mace- 
don.  But  to  compensate  these  unpromising 
circumstances,  Philip  possessed  strenuous  abet- 
tors of  his  power  within  the  walls  of  Athens 
and  Olynthus  ; and  his  garrisons  actually  com- 
manded the  principal  posts  in  Thessaly.  Above 
all,  the  indolence  and  vices  of  his  enemies  were 
most  favourable  to  his  cause.  The  late  success 
in  Euboea,  which  should  have  animated  a brave 
and  generous  people  to  new  exertions  and  dan- 
gers, only  replunged  the  Athenians  into  a sloth- 
ful security.  While  they  enjoyed  their  thea- 
trical entertainments,  their  stfows  and  festivals, 
and  all  the  ease  and  luxury  of  a city  life,  they 
were  little  inclined  to  engage  in  any  enterprise 
that  might  disturb  the  tranquil  course  of  their 
pleasures.  In  this  disposition  they  were  en- 
couraged by  their  perfidious  orators,  who 
strongly  exhorted  them  to  beware  of  involving 
themselves  in  the  danger  of  Olynthus,  or  of 
provoking  the  resentment  of  a prince  whose 
power  they  were  unable  to  resist.  The  orator 
Demades  particularly  distinguished  his  zeal  in 
the  Macedonian  interest;  advising  an  absolute 
and  total  rejection  of  the  demands  of  the  Olyn- 
thian  ambassadors. 

Demosthenes  at  length  arose,  and  as  the  de- 
sign of  calling  the  assembly  had  been  already 
explained,  entered  immediately  on  the  question 
under  deliberation.  “ On7  many  occasions, 


5 Demosthen.  Olynth.  passim. 

6 Demosthen.  de  Falsa  Legatione. 

7 I mean  not  a translation  of  Demosthenes.  The  insert- 
ing his  speeches  entire  would  destroy  the  humble  uniformity 
t)f  this  historical  work,  with  the  design  of  which  it  would 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


385 


XXXV.J 

Athenians ! have  the  gods  declared  their  favour 
to  this  state,  but  never  more  manifestly  than  in 
the  present  juncture.  That  enemies  should  be 
raised  to  Philip,  on  the  coniines  of  his  territory, 
enemies  not  contemptible  in  power,  and,  which 
is  more  important,  so  determined  on  the  war, 
that  they  regard  every  accommodation  with 
Macedon,  first  as  insidious,  next  as  the  destruc- 
tion of  their  country,  can  be  ascribed  to  nothing 
less  than  the  bountiful  interposition  of  Heaven. 
With  every  thing  else  on  our  side,  let  us  not  be 
wanting  to  ourselves;  let  us  not  be  reproached 
with  the  unspeakable  infamy  of  throwing  away, 
not  only  those  cities  and  territories  which  we 
inherited  from  our  ancestors,  but  those  occa- 
sions and  alliances  offered  us  by  fortune  and 
the  gods.  To  insist  on  the  power  and  great- 
ness of  Philip  belongs  not  to  the  present  sub- 
ject. He  has  become  great  through  your  supine 
neglect,  and  the  perfidy  of  traitors,  whom  it 
becomes  you  to  punish.  Such  topics  are  not 
honourable  for  you : I wave  them  as  superfluous, 
having  matter  more  material  to  urge.  To  call 
the  king  of  Macedon  perjured  and  perfidious, 
without  proving  my  assertions,  would  be  the 
language  of  insult  and  reproach.  But  his  own 
actions,  and  not  my  resentment,  shall  nanie 
him ; and  of  these  I think  it  necessary  to  speak, 
for  two  reasons ; first,  that  he  may  appear, 
what  he  really  is,  a wicked  man ; and,  secondly, 
that  the  weak  minds  who  are  intimidated  by 
his  power  and  resources,  may  perceive  that  the 
artifices  to  which  he  owes  them  are  now  all 
exhausted,  and  that  his  ruin  is  at  hand.  As  to 
myself,  Athenians  ! I should  not  only  fear  but 
admire  Philip,  had  he  attained  his  present 
height  of  grandeur  by  honourable  and  equitable 
means.  But  after  the  most  serious  examina- 
tion I find,  that  at  first  he  seduced  our  simpli- 
city by  the  flattering  promise  of  Amphipolis; 
that  he  next  surprised  the  friendship  of  Olyn- 
thus  by  the  deceitful  gift  of  Potidaea;  that, 
lastly,  he  enslaved  the  Thessalians,  under  the 
specious  pretence  of  delivering  them  from  ty- 
rants. In  one  word,  with  what  community 
hath  he  treated  which  hath  not  experienced  his 
fraud  ? Which  of  his  confederates  hath  he  not 
shamelessly  betrayed?  Can  it  be  expected, 
then,  that  those  who  promoted  his  elevation, 
because  they  thought  him  their  friend,  will  con- 
tinue to  support  it,  when  they  find  him  a friend 
to  his  own  interests  alone?  Impossible  ! When 
confederacies  are  formed  on  the  principles  of 
common  advantage  and  affection,  each  member 
shares  the  toils  with  alacrity ; all  persevere  ; 
such  confederacies  endure.  But  when  worth- 
lessness and  lawless  ambition  have  raised  a sin- 
gle man,  the  slightest  accident  overthrows  the 
unstable  edifice  of  his  grandeur.  It  is  not,  no  ! 
Athenians!  it  is  not  possible  to  found  a lasting 
power  on  treachery,  fraud,  and  perjury.  These 
may  succeed  for  awhile:  but  time  reveals  their 
weakness.  For,  as  in  a house,  a ship,  and  in 
structures  of  every  kind,  the  foundation  and 


lie  inconsistent  to  transcribe  what  the  orator  found  it  neces 
sary  to  say,  repeat,  and  enforce  so  often.  Besides,  Demos- 
thenes is  one  of  the  few  Greek  writers  that  has  been  trans- 
lated, as  the  late  Mr.  Harris  savs  in  his  Philological 
Enquiries,  by  competent  persons:  Drs.  Lelnnd  and  France, 
in  English;  Mr.  Tourreil  and  the  Abb6  Auger,  in  French  ; 
and  the  Abb6  Ce9arotti,  in  Italian. 

• 3 C 


lower  parts  should  be  firm  and  solid,  so  the 
grounds  and  principles  of  action  should  be  just 
and  true.  But  such  qualities  belong  not  to  the 
actions  of  Philip!8 

‘T  am  of  opinion,  then,  that  fearless  of  con- 
sequences, you  ought  to  assist  Olynthus  with 
the  utmost  celerity  and  vigour,  and  to  despatch 
an  embassy  to  the  Thessalians,  to  inflame  their 
hostility.  But  take  care,  Athenians  1 that  your 
ardour  evaporate  not  in  resolutions  and  decrees. 
Be  ready  to  pay  your  contributions;  prepare  to 
take  the  field;  show  yourselves  in  earnest,  and 
you  will  soon  discover  not  only  the  hollow 
faith  of  the  allies  of  Philip,  but  the  internal  and 
concealed  infirmity  of  Macedon  itself.  That 
kingdom  has  emerged  from  obscurity  amidst 
the  contests  of  neighbouring  states,  during 
which,  the  smallest  weight,  put  into  either  scale, 
is  sufficient  to  incline  the  balance.  But,  in  itself, 
Macedon  is  inconsiderable  and  weak,  and  its 
real  weakness  is  increased  by  the  splendid  but 
ruinous  expeditions  of  Philip.  For  the  king 
and  his  subjects  are  actuated  by  very  different 
sentiments.  Domineered  by  ambition,  he  dis- 
regards ease  and  safety ; but  his  subjects,  who 
individually  have  little  share  in  the  glory  of  his 
conquests,  are  indignant,  that,  for  the  sake  of 
one  man,  they  should  be  harassed  by  continual 
warfare,  and  withdrawn  from  those  occupations 
and  pursuits,  which  afford  the  comforts  and 
happiness  of  private  life.  On  the  great  body  of 
his  people,  Philip,  therefore,  can  have  no  reli- 
ance ; nor,  whatever  may  be  said  of  their  va- 
lour and  discipline,  can  he  depend  more  on  his 
mercenaries.  For  I am  informed,  by  a man  of 
undoubted  veracity,  who  has  just  arrived  from 
Macedon,  that  none  of  Philip’s  guards,  even 
those  whom  he  treats  with  the  affectionate,  but 
deceitful  names  of  companions,  and  lellow 
soldiers,  can  merit  his  esteem,  without  incurring 
his  hatred  and  persecution.  Such  is  the  intoler- 
able jealousy,  such  the  malignant  envy,  which 
crowns  the  other  odious  vices  of  this  monster, 
who,  defying  every  sentiment  of  virtue  and  de- 
cency, drives  from  his  presence  all  who  shud- 
der, all  who  are  disgusted,  at  the  most  unna- 
tural enormities;  and  whose  court  is  continually 
crowded  by  buffoons,  parasites,  obscene  poets 
and  drunkards;  wretches  who,  when  drunk, 
will  dance,  but  such  dances9  as  modesty  dare 
not  name.  Slight  and  trivial  as  these  matters 
may  to  some  appear,  they  exhibit  the  worthless- 

8 The  important,  though  trite  proverb,  that  in  public,  as 
well  ns  in  private  transactions,  “honesty  is  the  best  policy,” 
was  never  expressed,  perhaps  wilh  such  dignity,  as  in  the 
following  words  of  Demosthenes : otxv  pev  yxg  vir'  ewoixg 
T36  irgxy^tx roc  trur tij,  xxi  irxtri  txutx  <rv/xtegie  roif  /usre- 
%ou<ri  tov  irokejuovy  xxi  trvgnoveivy  xxi  (fege iv  rx$  <rv//.C'0~ 
gtfy  xxi  /u-eveiv  eiikovtriv  oi  xvSgMiroi’  otxv  £i  ex  irkeo- 
vi^ixg  r<s,  wrireg  outoj,  »ir%v<r>),  n irg'ur v\  x-go^xtrif  xxi 
/uixgov  irrxicr/ux,  xirxvrx  xveycxn  i<rt  xxi  S ixkvcrsv.  ou  yxg 
£<r ti,  to  xvSges  Aixvxioi,  xSixouvtx  xxi  eir togxovvrx  xxi 
•^/svJ'o/xsvov,  tivvxfxiv  Zs&xixv  xTtftrxtrOxt  ■ xkkx  t«  to«xut« 
ng  ftiv  x-nx\y  xxi  Sjxjruv  Xgovov,  xvt!%ci‘  xxi  <rcpo igx  ye 

xviqxsv  S1TI  T XI S SkiriCT  IV,  XV  TV%>f  T'JU  XtOV'”  Si  CulgXTXly 

xxi  regi  xmtx  xxrxggn.  'jiirireg  yxg  oixixj,  oi/xxiy  xxi 

irk 810V,  XXI  T'MV  XkKUV  TwV  TOIOVTioV,  T X XXTUlOiV  *0"X v- 
gOTXTX  tIVXl  Sily  OVTCU  XXI  T’J>V  ITgX^SVV  TS6{  Xg%Xf  XXI 

rxs  uro5£<r«i$  xk> i9ns  **•  Sixxixs  tivxt  irgoo-qxef  rovro 
Si  oux  £ vi  vuv  tv  toi$  ireirg xy/xivoif  <t>ikiir7T'jj'  Demos- 
Ihrn.  Olynth.  i.  or  Olyn’h.  ii.  p.  7th,  in  the  common  but 
incorrect  edition  of  Wolfius. 

{)  The  xogHxkitr/tos.  Demosth.  p.  S.  Vid.  Schol.  ad 
Aristoph.  in  Nuliih.  From  the  description  above  given  of 
Athenian  manners,  it  appears  that  Demosthenes’s  delicacy 
was  merely  complimeutal. 


386 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


ness  of  Philip,  and  announce  the  infelicity 
which  awaits  him.  The  dangerous  defects  of 
his  character  are  hid  in  the  blaze  of  prosperity;1 
but  when  misfortune  happens,  his  native  de- 
formity will  appear.  For  it  is  easy  to  prove 
that,  as  in  the  bodily  frame,  men,  during  the 
season  of  health,  are  insensible  of  what  is  weak 
and  disordered  in  their  constitutions,  which  im- 
perfections are  immediately  felt  on  the  first 
approach  of  sickness ; so  the  glory  of  foreign 
conquest  conceals  the  vices  and  defects  of  re- 
publics and  monarchies  ; but  let  calamity  hap- 
pen, let  the  war  be  carried  to  their  frontiers, 
and  those  hitherto  latent  evils  immediately  be- 
come manifest. 

“ If  there  is  a man  among  you,  Athenians  ! 
who  thinks  that  Philip  is  a formidable  enemy, 
because  he  is  fortunate,  I agree  with  that  man. 
Fortune2  has  a mighty  influence,  or  rather 
Fortune  alone  domineers  in  human  affairs.  Yet 
could  you  be  persuaded  to  do  but  the  smallest 
part  of  your  duty,  I would  greatly  prefer  your 
fortune  to  Philip’s  ; for  you,  surely,  have  better 
reason  to  trust  in  the  assistance  of  Heaven. 
But  we  remain,  I think,  inactive,  hesitating, 
delaying,  and  deliberating,  while  our  enemy 
takes  the  field,  braving  seasons  and  dangers, 
and  neglecting  no  opportunity  of  advantage. 
And  if  the  indolent  and  careless  are  abandoned 
by  their  best  friends,  can  we  expect  that  the 
gods,  however  favourable,  should  assist  us,  if 
we  will  not  help  ourselves  ?” 

The  people  of  Athens,  animated  to  their  duty, 
on  the  one  hand,  by  Demosthenes,  and  seduced, 
on  the  other,  by  the  hirelings  of  Philip,3  and 
their  own  deceitful  passions, imprudently  steered 
a middle  course,  which,  in  public  affairs,  is 
often  the  most  dangerous.  Convinced  that  the 
preservation  of  Olynthus  was  the  best  safeguard 
of  Attica,  yet  unwilling  to  tear  themselves  from 
their  beloved  pleasures,  they  determined  to  send 
Chares,  with  a fleet  and  two  thousand  merce- 
naries, to  the  assistance  of  their  allies;  This 
commander,  who  was  the  idol  of  the  multitude, 
but  the  disgrace  of  his  country  and  of  his  pro- 
fession,4 showed  no  solicitude  to  protect  the  de- 
pendencies of  Olynthus,  which  successively  sub- 
mitted to  the  Macedonian  arms.  To  gratify 
the  rapacity  of  his  troops,  he  made  a descent  on 
the  fertile  coast  of  Pallene,  where,  falling  in 
with  eight  hundred  men  commanded  by  Au- 
daeus,  called  the  friends  of  Philip,  he  obtained 
over  those  contemptible  cowards  an  easy  and 
ludicrous  victory,  which  served  only  to  amuse 
the  comic  poets  of  the  times.  Having  gained 
this  advantage,  Chares  became  unwilling  to 
try  his  fortune  in  any  severer  conflict;  and  dis- 
daining, as  he  affected,  to  follow  the  motions 
of  Philip,  returned  home,  and  celebrated  his 
triumph  over  the  vain,  boastful,  and  voluptuous 
Audaeus;5  not,  however,  with  the  spoils  of  the 
vanquished,  but  with  the  sum  of  sixty  talents, 


1 Secuodse  res  mire  sunt  vitiis  obtentui.  Sallust. 

2 From  what  is  said  below,  it  appears  that,  bv  Fortune, 
Demosthenes  here  means  the  dispensations  of  Providence; 
and  by  good  fortune,  the  Favour  of  Heaven. 

3 Philochorus  in  Dionys.  Epist.  ad  Am'monium. 

4 Timotheus  said  of  him,  “ that  he  was  fitter  to  carry  the 
baggage,  than  to  command  an  army.”  Plut.  in  Apophth. 

5 Among  his  contemporaries,  he  was  nicknamed  txKsx- 

T{v<*v,  the  cock.  Athentrus  I.  xii.  p.  534. 


[Chap. 

which  he  had  extorted  from  the  Phocians,  who 
were  actually  in  alliance  with  Athens.6 

The  thoughtless  multitude,  who  judged  of 
the  expedition  of  Chares  by  the  expensive  pomp 
with  which  he  entertained  them  at  his  return, 
talked  extravagantly  of  invading  Macedon,  and 
chastising  the  insolence  of  Philip,7  when  a se- 
cond embassy  arrived  from  Olynthus.  The  in- 
habitants of  this  place  had  been  shut  up  within 
their  walls ; they  had  lost  Stagyra,  Miciberna, 
Torone,  cities  of  considerable  strength,  besides 
many  inferior  towns,  which,  on  the  first  appear- 
ance of  Philip,  were  forward  to  receive  his 
bribes,  and  to  open  their  gates;8  and  this  shame- 
ful venality,  in  places  well  provided  for  defence, 
made  the  king  of  Macedon  observe  to  his  gene- 
rals, that  he  would  thenceforth  consider  no  for- 
tress as  impregnable,  which  could  admit  a mule 
laden  with  money.0  Dejected  by  continual 
losses,  the  Olynthians  turned  their  thoughts  to 
negotiation,  that  they  might  at  least  amuse  the 
invader  till  the  arrival  of  the  Athenian  succours. 
Philip  penetrated  their  design,  and  dexterously 
turned  their  arts  against  them;  affecting  to  lend 
an  ear  to  their  proposals,  but  mean  while  con- 
tinuing his  approaches,  till,  having  got  within 
forty  stadia  of  their  walls,  he  declared  that  of 
two  things  one  was  necessary,  either  they  must 
leave  Olynthus,  or  he  Macedon.10  This  expli- 
cit declaration  from  an  enemy,  who  often  flat- 
tered to  destroy,  but  who  might  always  be  be- 
lieved when  he  threatened,  convinced  the  Olyn- 
thians of  what  they  had  long  suspected,  that 
their  utter  ruin  was  at  hand.  They  endea- 
voured to  retard  the  fatal  moment  by  a vigour- 
ous  sally,  in  which  their  cavalry,  commanded 
by  Apollonides,  particularly  signalised  their  va- 
lour.11 But  they  were  repulsed  by  superior 
numbers,  and  obliged  to  take  refuge  in  the  city. 

In  this  posture  of  affairs,  the  ambassadors 
sailed  for  Athens  ; and  having  arrived  there, 
found,  to  their  utter  astonishment,  the  multi- 
tude still  enjoying  the  imaginary  triumph  of 
Chares.  This  commander,  who  chiefly  owed 
his  credit  to  the  ascendant  of  superficial  qualities 
over  the  undiscerning  folly  of  the  people,  was  a 
warm  and  active  partisan  of  democracy,  and 
as  such  viewed,  even  by  Demosthenes,  with  too 
partial  eyes.  The  orator,  besides,  well  knew 
that  the  irregular,  useless,  or  destructive  opera- 
tions of  the  Athenian  arms,  ought  not  always 
to  be  charged  on  the  misconduct  of  the  general. 
The  troops  were  always  ill  paid  ; sometimes 
not  paid  at  all  ; and  therefore  disobedient  and 
mutinous.  Instead  of  submitting  to  control, 
they  often  controlled  their  leaders ; their  reso- 
lutions were  prompt  and  ungovernable  ; when 
they  could  not  persuade,  they  threatened  ; and 
compelled  even  prudent  commanders  to  mea- 
sures wild,  ruinous,  and  dishonourable. 

Demosthenes,  therefore,  who  again  undertook 
to  second  the  demands  of  Olynthus,  waved  all 


fi  Athenaeus  1.  xii.  p 534. 

7 Demosthen.  Olynth.  ii. 

8 Diodorus,  1.  xvi.  p.  450. 

9 Plutarch,  ubi  supra.  Diodorus,  p.  451,  relates  the  mat- 
ter somewhat  difFerentlv.  But  he  acknowledges  that  the 
king  of  Macedon  boasted  that  he  had  augmented  his  domi 
nions  more  by  gold  than  by  arms.  Diodorus,  p.  450. 

10  Demosthen.  Philipp. 

11  Id.  Ibid. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


387 


XXXV.] 

accusation  against  particular  persons.  After 
endeavouring  to  repress  the  vain  confidence  of 
his  countrymen,  which  had  been  excited  by  the 
supposed  advantages  of  Chares,  and  the  venal 
breath  of  corrupt  orators,  he  describes  the  real 
danger  of  their  allies,  which  he  persuades  them 
to  regard  as  their  own.  The  crisis  was  now 
arrived ; and  if  they  neglected  the  present  op- 
portunity of  fulfilling  their  engagements  to 
Olynthus,  they  must  soon  be  obliged  to  meet 
Philip  in  Attica.  He  reminds  them  of  the 
various  occasions,  which  they  had  already  lost, 
of  repelling  this  rapacious  tyrant,  this  hostile 
Barbarian,  this  mixture  of  perfidy  and  violence, 
for  whom  he  cannot  find  any  name  sufficiently 
reproachful.  “ But  some  perhaps  will  say,  it  is 
the  business  of  a public  speaker  to  advise,  not  to 
upbraid.  We  wish  to  assist  the  Olynthians, 
and  we  will  assist  them  ; but  inform  us  how 
our  aid  may  be  rendered  most  effectual.  Ap- 
point magistrates,  Athenians ! for  the  inspection 
of  your  laws  ; not  to  enact  new  laws ; they  are 
already  too  nurrferous ; butto  repeal  those  whose 
ill  effects  you  daily  experience  ; 1 mean  the  laws 
respecting  the  theatrical  funds  (thus  openly  I 
declare  it.)  and  some  about  the  soldiery.  By 
the  first,  the  soldier’s  pay  is  consumed,  as  thea- 
trical expenses,  by  the  useless  and  inactive  ; the 
second  screen  from  justice  the  coward  who  de- 
clines the  service,  and  damp  the  ardour  of  the 
brave  who  would  be  ready  to  take  the  field. 
Till  these  laws  be  repealed,  expect  not  that  any 
man  will  urge  your  true  interest,  since  his 
honest  zeal  must  be  repaid  with  destruction.” 
After  insisting  still  farther  on  this  delicate  and 
dangerous  subject,  Demosthenes  probably  ob- 
served displeasure  and  resentment  in  the  coun- 
tenances of  his  hearers,  and  then  (as  his  custom 
was)  artfully  turning  the  discourse  : “ I speak 
thus,  not  with  a view  to  give  offence,  for  I am 
not  so  mad  as  wantonly  to  offend;  but  because 
I think  it  the  duty  of  a public  speaker  to  prefer 
your  interest  to  your  pleasure.  Such  were  the 
maxims  and  conduct  (you  yourselves  know  it) 
of  those  ancient  and  illustrious  orators  whom 
all  unite  to  praise,  but  none  venture  to  imitate; 
of  the  virtuous  Aristides,  of  Nicias,  of  Pericles, 
and  of  him  whose  name11  I bear.  But  since 
ministers  have  appeared  who  dare  not  address 
the  assembly,  till  they  have  first  consulted  you 
about  the  counsels  which  they  ought  to  give, 
who  ask,  as  it  were,  What  shall  I propose  ? 
What  shall  I advise  ? In  what,  Athenians  ! can 
I do  you  pleasure  ? the  sweet  draught  of  flattery 
has  concealed  a deadly  poison  ; our  strength  is 
enervated,  our  glory  tarnished,  the  public  beg- 
gared and  disgraced,  while  those  smooth- 
tongued declaimers  have  acquired  opulence  and 
splendour.12  Consider,  Athenians  ! how  briefly 


11  Demosthenes,  who  acted  such  a distinguished  part  in 
the  Peloponnesian  war.  See  above,  c.  xvii.  p.  203,  el  seq. 

12  It  is  worthy  of  observation  that,  in  this  discourse 
throughout,  Demosthenes  insists  that  the  people  at  lurge  en- 
joyed much  less  authority  in  his  time  than  in  the  days  of 
Aristides,  &c.  All  depends,  he  nsserts,  on  the  popular  ora- 
tors and  magistrates,  “ oinoknivonsvoi.”  Yet  it  is  well 
known  that,  since  the  age  of  Aristides,  the  government  had 
become  more  democraticnl.  Demosthenes  himself  allows 
this:  the  orators,  he  says,  dnre  not  address  the  people  now 
with  that  freedom  which  they  used  formerly. — This  appa- 
rent contradiction  shows  the  nature  and  tendency  of  that 
species  of  popular  government  which  the  Greeks  call  ochJo- 


the  conduct  of  your  ancestors  may  be  contrasted 
with  your  own;  for  if  you  would  pursue  the 
road  to  glory  and  happiness,  you  need  not  foreign 
instructors  : it  will  be  sufficient  to  follow  the 
example  of  those  from  whom  you  are  descend- 
ed. The  Athenians  of  former  times,  whom  the 
orators  never  courted,  never  treated  with  that 
indulgence  to  which  you  are  accustomed,  held, 
with  general  consent,  the  sovereignty  of  Greece 
for  sixty-five  years  ;13  deposited  above  ten  thou- 
sand talents  in  the  citadel  ; kept  the  king  of 
Macedon  in  that  subjection  which  a Barbarian 
owes  to  Greece  ; erected  many  and  illustrious 
trophies  of  the  exploits  which  their  own  valour 
had  achieved  by  land  and  sea ; in  a word,  are 
the  only  people  on  record  whose  glorious  actions 
transcend  the  power  of  envy.  Thus  great  in 
war,  their  civil  administration  was  not  less  ad- 
mirable. The  stately  edifices  which  they  raised, 
the  temples  which  they  adorned,  the  dedications 
which  they  offered  to  the  gods,  will  never  be 
excelled  in  magnificence  ; but,  in  private  life,  so 
exemplary  wras  their  moderation,  and  so  scru- 
pulous their  adherence  to  the  frugal  maxims  of 
antiquity,  that  if  any  of  you  has  examined  the 
houses  of  Aristides  or  Miltiades,  he  will  find 
them  undistinguished  above  the  contiguous 
buildings  by  superior  elegance  or  grandeur. 
The  ambition  of  those  illustrious  statesmen  was 
to  exalt  the  republic,  not  to  enrich  themselves  ;14 
and  this  just  moderation,  accompanied  by  piety 
and  patriotism,  raised  their  country  (and  no 
wonder  !)  to  the  height  of  prosperity.  Such  was 
the  condition  of  Athens  under  those  sincere  and 
honest  men.  Is  it  the  same,  or  nearly  the  same, 
under  the  indulgence  of  our  present  ministers? 
I wave  other  topics  on  which  I might  enlarge. 
But  you  behold  in  what  solitude  we  are  left. 
The  Lacedaemonians  lost;  the  Thebans  harassed 
by  war ; no  other  republic  worthy  of  aspiring 
to  the  sovereignty.  Yet,  at  this  period,  when 
we  might  not  only  have  defended  our  own  pos- 
sessions, but  have  become  the  arbiters  and  um- 
pires of  all  around  us,  we  have  been  stripped  of 
whole  provinces ; we  have  expended  fifteen 
hundred  talents  fruitlessly;  we  have  lost,  in 
timeof  peace,  the  alliances  and  advantages  which 
the  arms  of  our  ancestors  had  acquired  ; and  we 
have  raised  up  and  armed  a most  formidable 
enemy  against  ourselves.  If  not,  let  the  man 
stand  forth  who  can  show  from  what  other  cause 
Philip  has  derived  his  greatness.  But  the  miser- 
able condition  of  our  foreign  affairs,  is  perhaps 
compensated  by  the  happiness  of  our  domestic 
state,  and  the  splendid  improvements  of  our 
capital.  Roads  repaired,  walls  whitened,  foun- 
tains, and  follies  Z16  And  the  ministers  who  have 
procured  us  those  magnificent  advantages,  pass 
from  poverty  and  meanness  to  opulence  and 
dignity ; build  private  palaces  which  insult  the 


garchy. — The  populace  are  the  slaves  of  their  demagogues, 
and  the  demagogues  of  the  fwpulace.  Instead  of  liberty, 
there  is  an  interchange  of  servitude. 

13  Demosthenes’s  chronology  here  is  not  accurate.  See 
above,  p.  259.  in  the  note. 

14  Privatus  illis  consus  erat  brevis 

Commune  magnum.  Hor.  ode  xv.  1.  ii. 

15  n>iyu‘  x#i  Me*'.  Demosthenes  disdained  not  such  a 
ginglo  of  words  when  it  presented  itself  naturally  ; but  as  it 
rarely  occurs  in  his  works,  it  is  plain  that  he  never  sought 
for  it. 


383 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


edifices  of  the  public  ; grow  greater  as  their 
country  becomes  less,  and  gradually  rise  on  its 
ruins.  What  is  the  source  of  this  disorder  ? It 
is,  Athenians  ! that  formerly  the  people  did 
their  duty,  took  the  field  in  person,  and  thus 
kept  the  magistrates  in  awe.” 

The  assembly  remained  insensible  to  the  mo- 
tives of  interest  and  honour.  Instead  of  taking 
the  field  in  person,  they  sent  to  Olynthus  a 
body  of  foreign  infantry,  amounting  to  four 
thousand,  with  a hundred  and  fifty  horse,  un- 
der the  command  of  Charidemus.  This  un- 
worthy general,  who  was  the  slave  of  his  mer- 
cenaries, and  of  his  own  detestable  passions, 
gratified  the  rapacity  of  .‘.s  troops  by  ravaging 
the  Macedonian  province  of  Bottiaea,  on  the 
confines  of  Chalcis.  At  length,  however,  he 
threw  his  forces  into  Olynthus ; and  the  be- 
sieged, encouraged  by  this  reinforcement,  ha- 
zarded another  sally,  in  which  they  were  de- 
feated and  repelled  with  considerable  loss.  The 
Athenian  mercenaries  were  rendered  every  day 
more  contemptible  by  their  cowardice,  and  more 
dangerous  by  their  licentiousness.  The  beastly 
Charidemus  had  neither  inclination  nor  ability 
to  restrain  their  irregularities.  According  to 
his  custom,  he  drank,  at  every  meal,  to  a scan- 
dalous excess  : his  brutality  insulted  the  women 
of  Olynthus ; and  such  was  his  impudent  and 
abandoned  profligacy,  that  he  demanded  of  the 
senate,  as  a reward  for  his  pretended  services, 
a beautiful  Macedonian  youth,  then  captive  in 
the  city.1 

In  this  state  of  affairs,  the  Olynthians  a 
third  time  applied  to  Athens.  On  the  present 
occasion,  flSschines,  who  afterwards  became 
such  an  active  partisan  of  the  Macedonian  in- 
terest, particularly  distinguished  his  zeal  and 
his  patriotism.  The  speech  of  Demosthenes, 
to  the  same  purpose,  is  still  on  record.  He  ex- 
horts and  conjures  his  countrymen  to  send  to 
Olynthus  an  army  of  citizens,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  make  a diversion,  by  invading  the  Ma- 
cedonian coast.  Unless  both  be  done,  the  in- 
defatigable industry  of  Philip  would  render 
either  ineffectual.  “ Have  you  ever  considered 
the  rapid  progress  of  this  prince  ? He  began  by 
taking  Amphipolis,  then  Pydna,  Potidaea,  and 
Methone  ; from  thence  he  poured  his  troops 
into  Thessaly,  and  became  master  of  Pherae, 
Pegasae,  and  Magnesia.  Then,  turning  towards 
Thrace,  he  overran  provinces,  conquered  and 
divided  kingdoms,  and  seated  himself  on  the 
trophies  of  fallen  crowns  and  broken  sceptres. 
I speak  not  of  his  expedition  against  the  Paeo- 
nians  and  Illyrians,  into  Epirus. — and  where 
has  not  ambition  conducted  his  arms?  But 
why  this  long  enumeration? — To  prove  the 
important  opportunities  which  your  negligence 
has  lost,  and  the  unextinguishable  ardour  of  an 
adversary,  whose  successive  conquests  contin- 
ually bring  him  nearer  to  your  walls.  For  is 
there  a man  in  this  assembly,  whose  blindness 
perceives  not  that  the  sufferings  of  the  Olyn- 
thians are  the  forerunners  of  our  own  ? The 
present  conjuncture  calls  you,  as  with  a loud 
voice,  at  length  to  rouse  from  your  lethargy, 
and  to  profit  by  this  last  testimony  of  the  boun- 


[Chap. 

tiful  protection  of  the  gods.  Another  is  not  to 
be  expected,  after  the  many  which  you  have 
despised  and  forgotten  : I say  forgotten  ; for  fa- 
vourable conjunctures,  like  riches,  and  other 
gifts  of  heaven,  are  remembered  with  gratitude, 
only  by  those  who  have  understanding  to  pre- 
serve and  to  enjoy  them.  The  spendthrift  dis- 
sipates his  thankfulness  with  his  wealth  ;2  and 
the  same  imprudent  folly  renders  him  both 
miserable  and  ungrateful.”  After  these  bold 
expostulations,  or  rather  reproaches,  he  encou- 
rages them  to  relieve  Olynthus,  by  observing, 
that  Philip  would  never  have  undertaken  the 
siege  of  that  place,  if  he  had  expected  such  a 
vigorous  resistance  ; especially  at  a time  when 
his  allies  were  ready  to  revolt ; when  the  Thes- 
salians wished  to  throw  off  the  yoke  ; when  the 
Thracians  and  Illyrians  longed  to  recover  thei 
freedom.  Thus  the  power  of  Philip,  lately  re- 
presented as  so  formidable,  is  by  no  means  real 
and  solid  ; one  vigorous  effort  might  yet  over- 
whelm him ; and  the  passion  of  hope,  as  well 
as  that  of  fear,  is  rendered  subservient  to  the 
purpose  of  the  orator.  He  again  touches  on  the 
article  of  supplies;  but  with  such  caution  as 
shows  that  his  former  more  explicit  observations 
had  been  heard  impatiently.  “ As  to  money 
for  the  expenses  of  the  war  (for  without  money 
nothing  can  be  done,)  you  possess,  Athenians  ! 
a military  fund  exceeding  that  of  any  other 
people.  But  you  have  unfortunately  with- 
drawn it  from  its  original  destination,  to  which 
were  it  restored,  there  could  not  be  any  neces- 
sity for  extraordinary  contributions.  What ! 
do  you  purpose  in  form,3  that  the  theatrical 
money  should  be  applied  to  the  use  of  the  sol- 
diery ? No,  surely.  But  I affirm,  that  soldiers 
must  be  raised  ; that  a fund  has  been  allotted 
for  their  subsistence ; and  that  in  every  well- 
regulated  community,  those  who  are  paid  by  the 
public,  ought  to  serve  the  public.  To  profit  of 
the  present  conjuncture,  we  must  act  with 
vigour  and  celerity,  we  must  despatch  ambassa- 
dors, to  animate  the  neighbouring  states  against 
Philip ; we  must  take  the  field  in  person.  If 
war  raged  on  the  frontiers  of  this  country,  with 
what  rapidity  would  the  Macedonians  march 
hither  ? Why  will  you  throw  away  a similar 
opportunity  ? Know,  that  but  one  alternative 
remains,  to  carry  the  war  into  Macedon,  or  to 
receive  it  in  Attica.  If  .Olynthus  resists,  we 
may  ravage  the  territories  of  Philip  ; should 
that  republic  be  destroyed,  who  will  hinder  him 
from  coming  hither  ? The  Thebans  1 to  say 
nothing  too  severe,  they  would  rather  reinforce 
his  arms.  The  Phocians  ! they  who,  without 
our  assistance,  cannot  defend  themselves.  O ! 
but  he  dares  not  come  ! It  is  madness  to  think 
that  the  designs  of  wh:ch  he  already  boasts  with 
such  bold  imprudence,  he  will  not  venture  to 
execute,  when  nothing  opposes  his  success.4  I 


2 The  observation  is  uncommon,  but  just:  xKKa  oi/i *i, 

rTXOOfl  510V  EOT!,  05TE  g XXI  5T££  » Tiff  TCUV  XTr/Tt*;’ 

XV  ,u£v  y-xg  crje  xv  t«j  \x"v  *xi  o-juo-x,  gisyx\vv  cjcei  t* 
TO%lf  TV.V  XV  ic  XVXK-Jltrxs  a-JVXVXKv<ri  XXI  TO 

ui.uvririxi  tv  t vxv  tvv  y,xgiv.  Demosih.  Olynth.  iii. 
(Tvnth.  i.  p.  2.  ex  edit.  Wolf. 

3 Such  a proposal,  the  Athenians  had  absurdly  declared 
punishable  bv  death. 

4 With  all  his  policy,  Philip  seems  to  hove  had  the  va- 

nity of  a Greek.  The  vigour  of  the  original  is  not  to  be 
translated:  “Av  J'i  exiiv*  #i\iit stoj  rif  «t* 


1 Theopomp.  apud  Athen.  1.  x.  p.  436. 


XXXV.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


389 


think  it  unnecessary  to  describe  the  difference 
between  attacking  Philip  at  home,  and  waiting 
for  him  here.  Were  you  obliged,  only  for  one 
month,  to  encamp  without  the  walls,  and  to 
subsist  an  army  in  the  country,  your  husband- 
men would  sustain  more  loss  than  has  been  in- 
curred by  all  the  former  exigences  of  the  war. 
This  would  happen,  although  the  enemy  kept 
at  a distance ; but  at  the  approach  and  entrance 
of  an  invader,  what  devastation  must  be  pro- 
duced ! Add  to  this,  the  insult  and  disgrace, 
the  most  ruinous  of  all  losses,  to  men  capable 
of  reflection.’’ 

The  arguments  of  Demosthenes 
cvn*  prevailed ; an  embassy  was  sent 

A C 348  Pe^°Ponnesusi  to  inflame  the 
hostility  of  that  country  against 
Philip  ; and  it  was  determined  to  assist  the 
Olynthians  with  an  army  of  Athenian  citizens. 
But  before  this  resolution  could  be  carried  into 
effect,  Olynthus  was  no  more.  The  cavalry 
belonging  to  that  place  had  acted  with  great 
spirit  against  the  besiegers.  As  the  works  were 
too  extensive  to  be  completely  invested,  the 
Olynthian  horsemen  made  frequent  incursions* * * * 5 
into  the  surrounding  territory,  where  they  not 
only  supplied  themselves  with  provisions  and 
forage,  but  beat  up  the  quarters,  attacked 
the  advanced  posts,  and  intercepted  the  con- 
voys of  the  enemy.  These  advantages  were 
chiefly  owing  to  the  merit  of  one  man.  In  the 
various  skirmishes,  as  well  as  in  the  two  gene- 
ral engagements  which  had  happened  since  the 
commencement  of  the  siege,  Philip  perceived 
that  Apollonides,  who  commanded  the  enemy’s 
horse,  displayed  such  valour  and  abilities  as 
might  long  retard,  perhaps  altogether  defeat, 
the  success  of  his  undertaking.  His  secret 
emissaries  were  therefore  set  to  work ; perfi- 
dious clamours  were  sown  among  the  populace 
of  OIvnthus  ; Apollonides  was  publicly  accus- 
ed ; and,  by  the  malignant  practices  of  traitors, 
condemned  to  banishment  on  a suspicion  of 
treason.6  The  command  of  the  cavalry  was 
bestowed  on  Lasthenes  and  Euthycrates,  two 
wretches  who  had  sold  their  country  to  Philip. 
Having  obtained  some  previous  successes,  which 
had  been  concerted  the  better  to  mask  their  de- 
signs, they  advanced  against  a Macedonian 
post;  carried  it  at  the  first  onset;  pursued  the 
flying  garrison  ; and  betrayed  their  own  troops 
into  an  ambush  prepared  by  the  enemy.  Sur- 
rounded on  all  sides,  the  Olynthians  surren- 
dered their  arms;  and  this  fatal  disaster  en- 
couraging the  Macedonian  partisans  within  the 
walls,  soon  opened  the  gates  of  Olynthus.7 
The  conqueror  entered  in  triumph,  plundered 
and  demolished  the  city,  and  dragged  the  inha- 
bitants into  servitude.8  Lasthenes,  Euthy- 
crates, and  their  associates,  shared  the  same, 

xcoXuirf*  Ssvgo  &xSi £««!';  OijGscioi  ; nv\  Xisev  s-ixfov  fiirsif 
»j,  xxi  txvihtZxKovti  EToi/iw;.  xKKx  ; oi  tsv  oixsixv 

o \>x  o*o«  Tl  ovtij  OuX.*ttiiv,  txv  f*i ) v/usi  «•  v\  xXXof 

T»S  ; OUT XV  OUX ‘ GouXlfO-l  TXl TWV  XTOTTjvTXTujv  /t‘l>TOI 

xv  h,  si  x vuv  xvoixv  o^KirxxvMVy  o/fv$  ixXaXsi,  txutx 
ikKxKsi,  txvtx  Sw^Seis  //.t\  irfx'in.  I have  used  a little 
freedom  with  the  “ ivyi  /SouXt!<r«T*i.” 

5 Diodorus,  I.  xvi.  53. 

6 Pemosth.  de  Falsa  Legatione. 

7 lb  d. 

8 Four  reasons  conspired  to  produce  the  severe  treat- 

ment of  the  Olynthians:  1.  Philip  had  lost  a great  many 

men  in  the  siege  ; woWouj  t«iv  iv  t * 


or  even  a worse  fate.  Philip  is  said  to  have 
abandoned  them  to  the  indignant  rage  of  the 
Macedonian  soldiers,  who  butchered  them  al- 
most before  his  eyes.  It  is  certain,  that  though 
his  mean  and  blind  ambition  often  employed 
treachery,  his  justice  or  his  pride  always  de- 
tested the  traitor.9 * 

The  conquest  of  Olynthus  put  Philip  in  pos- 
session of  the  region  of  Chalcis,  and  the  north- 
ern coast  of  iEgean  sea  ; an  acquisition  of  ter- 
ritory, which  rendered  his  dominions  on  that 
side  round  and  complete.  His  kingdom  was 
now  bounded,  on  the  north  by  the  Thracian 
possessions  of  Kersobleptes,  and  on  the  south 
by  the  territory  of  Pliocis,  a province  actually 
comprehending  the  straits  of  Thermopylae 
which  had  formerly  belonged  to  a different  di- 
vision of  Greece.  Besides  the  general  motives 
of  interest,  which  prompted  him  to  extend  his 
dominions,  he  discerned  the  peculiar  importance 
of  acquiring  the  Thermopylae  and  the  Helles- 
pont, since  the  former  was  emphatically  styled 
the  Gates  of  Greece,  and  the  latter  formed  the 
only  communication  between  that  c'ountry  and 
the  fertile  shores  of  the  Euxine.  Greece,  ex- 
oeeding'in  population  the  proportion  of  its  ex- 
tent and  fertility,  annually  drew  supplies  of 
corn  from  those  northern  regions.  The  Athe- 
nians, in  particular,  had  settlements  even  in 
the  remote  peninsula  of  Crim  Tartary,  an- 
ciently called  the  Taurica  Chersonesus,  by 
means  of  which  they  purchased  and  imported 
the  superfluous  productions  of  that  remote 
climate. 'o  Their  ships  could  only  sail  thither 
by  the  Hellespont;  and  should  that  important 
strait  be  reduced  under  the  power  of  an 
enemy,  they  must  be  totally  excluded  from 
a useful,  and  even  necessary,  branch  of  com- 
merce. 

Oi  Philip  perceived  these  conse- 

cviii  1 quences.  It  was  the  general  in- 
A C 348  terest  aA  the  Grecian  republics 
to  assist  Kersobleptes  and  the  Pho- 
cians,  which  was,  in  other  words,  to  defend 
the  Hellespont  and  Thermopylae.  The  in- 
terest of  the  Macedonian  wras  diametrically 
opposite  ; nor  could  he  expect  to  accomplish 
the  great  objects  , of  his  reign,  unless  he 
first  rendered  himself  master  of  those  impor- 
tant posts.  This  delicate  situation  furnished 
a proper  exercise  for  the  dexterity  of  Philip. 
After  the  destruction  of  Olynthus,  he  celebrat- 
ed a public  festival  of  gratitude  and  joy,  at  the 
neighbouring  town  of  Dium;  to  which,  as  at 
the  Olympian  and  other  Grecian  games,  all  the 
republics  were  promiscuously  invited,  whether 
friends  or  enemies. 11  It  appears  that  several 
Athenians  assisted  at  these  magnificent  enter- 
tainments, which  lasted  nine  days,  in  honour 
of  the  Muses,  and  which  w’anled  no  object  of 


ff.xy_i xn;  x~i“xKtv.  D'O'lor.  p.  450.  2.  The  Olyntliiana 
Imtl  received  his  natural  brothers,  Aridieus  and  Menelaus, 
accused  of  treason.  Justin.  I.  viii.  c.  iii.  3.  Philip  wanted 
money  to  carry  on  his  intrigues  in  other  cities;  o-<*p<r*<roe{ 
<re  «ut*|v  (soil.  Oa.uv8ov)  xse<  too?  m>o ixouvtk;  sJ'XvSgx’ro- 
S itrxf&t eo  c , tKxQugXTr'iiKxrr  touto  Si  irgx 5-juj,  xgx/xxTwv  ti 

oXXjui'  (15  tov  woXfjuov  tvrrogxirs.  4.  Diodorus  immedi- 
ate! y n ficr  ndds  the  fourth  reason,  “That  he  might  deter 
the  neighbouring  cities  from  opposing  his  measures.”  Dio- 
dor. n.  450. 

9 Dcmosih.  Olynth.  iii.  sect.  3. 

10  Demos  then.  in  Leptin. 

11  Dcmosih.  de  Fulsa  Legatione,  and  iodor.  p.  451. 


390 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


elegance  or  splendour,  that  either  art  could 
produce  or  wealth  could  purchase.  The  po- 
liteness and  condescending  affability  of  Philip 
obliterated  the  remembrance  of  his  recent  se- 
verity to  Olynthus  ; and  his  liberal  distribution 
of  the  spoils  of  that  unfortunate  city1  gained 
him  new  friends,  and  confirmed  the  attachment 
of  his  old  partisans. 

Amidst  these  scenes  of  rejoicing  and  festi- 
vity, Philip  seems  not  to  have  forgotten,  one 
moment,  that  the  most  immediate  object  of  his 
policy  was  to  detach  the  Athenians  from  the 
cause  of  Phocis  and  Kersobleptes,  who  were 
both  their  allies.  For  this  purpose,  while  he 
courted  individuals  with  peculiar  address,  he 
determined  to  make  the  public  feel  the  incon- 
venience of  the  war,  the  better  to  prepare  them 
for  the  insidious  proposal  of  a separate  peace. 
The  bad  conduct  of  Chares  left  the  sea  open 
to  the  Macedonians,  who  had  silently  acquired 
a considerable  naval  force.  Philip  began  to 
attack  the  Athenians  on  their  favourite  element. 
His  fleet  ravaged  their  tributary  islands  of  Lem- 
nos and  Imbros ; surprised  and  took  a squa- 
dron of  Athenian  vessels,  stationed  on  the 
southern  coast  of  Euboea  ; and,  encouraged  by  ! 
these  advantages,  boldly  sailed  to  Attica,  made 
a descent  on  the  shore  of  Marathon,  repelled 
the  Athenian  cavalry,  headed  by  Deotimus,  ra- 
vaged the  territory,  and  carried  off  the  Sala- 
manian  galley.  From  thence  they  proceeded 
to  the  isle  of  Salamis,  and  defeated  a consider- 
able detachment  commanded  by  Charidemus. 
The  illustrious  trophies  of  Marathon  and  Sa- 
lamis  were  effaced  by  the  insults  of  the  Mace- 
donians, whose  fleet  returned  home  in  triumph, 
adorned  with  hostile  spoils,  and  with  military 
and  naval  glory.2 

The  activity  of  Philip  seconded  his  good  for- 
tune. His  intrigues  were  renewed  in  Euboea. 
Under  pretence  of  delivering  the  island  from 
the  tyranny  and  extortions  of  Molossus,  the 
Athenian  commander,  he  landed  such  a body 
of  troops  there,  as  proved  sufficient,  with  the 
assistance  of  his  adherents,  to  expel  the  Athe- 
nians. Such  a multiplication  of  calamities 
might  have  disgusted  that  people  with  the  war 
against  Philip,  whose  hostility,  directed  against 
them  alone,  seemed  to  have  forgotten  the  Pho- 
cians  and  Kersobleptes  ; when  secret  but  zeal- 

1 Both  Demosthenes  and  Diodorus  mention  an  anecdote 
which  does  honour  to  Philip,  and  still  more  to  Satyrus  the 
player.  After  dinner,  the  king,  according  to  his  custom, 
was  distributing  his  presents;  amidst  the  general  festivity, 
Sa'yrus  alone  wore  a sad  countenance.  The  king  address- 
ed him  kindly,  and  in  the  language  of  the  times,  desired 
him  to  ask  a boon.  Satyrus  said,  that  such  presents  as 
others  received  (cups  of  gold,  &c.)  seemed  to  him  of  little 
value ; that  he  had  indeed  something  to  ask,  but  feared  a 
denial.  Philip  bavin?  encouraged  him,  he  proceeded : 

“ Apollophanes  of  Pydna  was  my  friend  : at  his  death,  his 
two  daughters,  both  arrived  at  a marriageable  age,  were 
sent  to  Olynthus,  taken  captive,  and  subjected  to’  all  the 
calamities  of  servitude.  These  are  the  presents  I request, 
not  with  any  design  unworthy  of  their  father  or  myself,  but 
that  I may  give  them  such  portions  as  shall  enable  them  to 
marry  happily.”  Apollophanes  had  been  an  active  oppo- 
nent, and  even  the  personal  enemy,  of  Philip ; vet  this 
prince  granted  the  request  of  Satyrus,  and  enabled  him 
liberally  to  provide  for  the  daugh  ers  of  his  friend. 

2 In  the  chronology  of  these  events,  I have  followed  Dr. 
Leland.  See  his  life  of  Philip,  vol.  ii.  p.  43.  The  events 
themselves  are  rela  ed  in  the  oration  of  Demosthenes  com- 
monly entitled  the  First  Philippic,  but  which  the  Doctor, 
with  great  probability,  considers  as  two  distinct  orations 
spoken  at  different  times. 


[Chap, 

ous  partisans  of  Macedon  arrived  at  Athens, 
as  ambassadors  from  Euboea,  commissioned  to 
settle  amicably  all  differences  between  the  two 
countries.  They  observed,  that  Philip  had  left 
the  island  absolutely  free  and  independent ; and 
that,  though  constrained  to  take  arms  in  de- 
fence of  his  allies,  he  was  sincerely  desirous  of 
making  peace  with  the  Athenians.  The  repre- 
sentations of  the  Eubcean  ambassadors  were 
enforced  by  the  influence  of  two  Athenians, 
Aristodemus  and  Neoptolemus,  the  first  dis- 
tinguished as  a player,  the  second  as  a player 
and  poet,  who  having  acquired  fortunes  in  Ma- 
cedon, returned  to  their  own  country,  to  for- 
ward the  measures  of  their  liberal  protector. 
They  affirmed  that  the  king  of  Macedon  ear- 
nestly wished  to  live  on  guod  terms  with  the 
republic ; and  the  Athenians  paid  much  regard 
to  men,  whose  talents  w;ere  then  highly  esteem- 
ed, and  who  had  remitted  the  riches  amassed 
in  a foreign  country,  to  purchase  lands  m At- 
tica, and  to  supply  w?ith  alacrity  the  exigences 
of  the  public  service. 

Demosthenes  saw  through  these  dark  and 
deep  artifices  ;3  but  in  vain  endeavoured  to 
! alarm  the  unsuspecting  credulity  of  his  coun- 
trymen. On  a future  occasion,  after  the  plot 
had  become  manifest,  he  upbraids  their  careless 
indifference  and  delusion  at  this  important  cri- 
sis. Had  you  been  spectators  in  the  theatre, 
and  not  deliberating  on  matters  of  the  highest 
moment,  you  could  not  have  heard  Neoptole- 
mus with  more  indulgence,  nor  me  wfith  more 
resentment.”4 

Such  was  the  disposition  of  the  assembly, 
when  AEschines  returned  from  his  Peloponne- 
sian embassy.  He  had  assembled  the  great 
council  of  the  Arcadians  ; revealed  to  them  the 
dangerous  views  of  Philip,  which  threatened 
the  liberty  of  Greece ; and,  notwithstanding  the 
powerful  opposition  of  Hieronymus,  and  other 
Macedonian  partisans,  had  engaged  that  people 
to  approve  the  patriot  zeal  of  Athens,  and  to 
deliberate  on  taking  arms  in  the  common  cause. 
In  relating  the  success  of  his  embassy,  he  in- 
veighed with  great  severity  against  those  mer- 
cenary traitors,  wffio  had  sold  the  interests  of 
their  country  to  a cruel  tyrant.  The  Greeks 
had  full  warning  of  their  danger.  The  miser- 
able fate  of  Olynthus  ought  ever  to  be  before 
their  eyes.  At  his  return  through  Peloponnesus, 
he  had  beheld  a sight  sufficient  to  melt  the  most 
obdurate  heart;  thirty  young  Olynthians,  of 
both  sexes,  driven  like  a herd  of  cattle,  as  a pre- 
sent from  Philip  to  some  of  the  umvortby  in- 
struments of  his  ambition.5 

The  susceptible  and  ever-varying  temper  of 
the  multitude  was  deeply  affected  by  the  repre- 
sentations of  iEchines;  the  pacific  advices  of 
Neoptolemus  and  his  associates  were  forgotten  ; 
war  and  revenge  again  echoed  through  the  as- 
sembly. At  the  requisition  of  .Eschines,  am- 
bassadors wTere  despatched  to  confirm  the  hostile 
resolutions  of  the  Arcadians,  and  to  aw  aken  the 
terror  of  the  neighbouring  republics.  The  Athe- 
nian youth  wTere  assembled  in  the  temple  of 
Agraulos  to  sw7ear  irreconcilable  hatred  against 


3 Demosthen.  de  Chersoneso,  et  de  Pace. 

4 Demosthen.  de  Chersoneso. 

5 Demosthen.  de  Falsa  Legatione,  sect.  5. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


391 


XXXV.] 

Philip  and  the  Macedonians ; and  the  most  aw- 
ful imprecations  were  denounced  against  the 
mercenary  traitors  who  co-operated  with  the 
public  enemy.  This  fermentation  might  at 
length  have  purihed  into  strong  and  decisive 
measures ; and  had  Philip  possessed  only  an 
ordinary  degree  of  vigilance,  a confederacy 
might  have  been  yet  formed  in  Greece  sufficient 
to  repel  the  Macedonian  arms.  But  that  con- 
summate politician  thought  nothing  done  while 
any  thing  was  neglected;  and,  as  he  allowed 
not  the  slightest  opportunity  to  pass  unimprov- 
ed, he  often  derived  very  important  benefits 
from  seemingly  inconsiderable  causes. 

An  Athenian  of  the  name  of  Phrynon,  a man 
wealthy  and  powerful^  had  been  attacked,  rob- 
bed, and  confined  by  some  Macedonian  soldiers, 
who  obliged  him  to  purchase  his  liberty  by  a 
very  considerable  ransom.0  As  this  violence 
had  been  committed  during  the  fifteen  days  of 
truce  tnat  followed  the  celebration  of  the  Olym- 
pic games,  Phrynon  very  judiciously  supposed 
that  the  king  of  Macedon,  who  had  long  been 
ambitious  of  obtaining  a place  in  the  Grecian 
confederacy,  would  not  abet  this  act  of  injustice 
and  impiety.  He  had  therefore  requested  his 
countrymen,  who  at  that  time  prepared  to  ne- 
gotiate with  Philip  an  exchange  of  prisoners,  to 
join  him  in  commission  with  Ctesiphon,  a man 
of  experience  and  capacity,  who  had  been  al- 
ready named  to  that  embassy ; imagining  that  by 
appearing  in  a public  character,  he  might  the 
more  easily  recover  the  ransom  and  other  mo- 
nies that  had  been  unjustly  extorted  from  him. 
Having  arrived  in  Macedon,  the  ambassadors 
were  received  and  treated  by  Philip  with  un- 
common politeness  and  respect;  their  demands 
were  most  obligingly  granted,  or  rather  pre- 
vented ; the  king  apologised  to  Phrynon  for  the 
ignorant  rusticity  of  his  soldiers,  which  had  led 
them  to  act  so  unwarrantably  ; and  he  lament- 
ed both  to  Phrynon  and  Ctesiphon,  the  neces- 
sity of  their  present  mission,  since  he  had  no- 
thing more  sincerely  at  heart  than  to  live  on 
good  terms  with  their  republic.7  At  their  re- 
turn to  Athens,  the  representations  of  such  men 
could  not  be  without  weight;  nor  could  they 
fail  being  extremely  favourable  to  the  king  of 
Macedon. 

Another  incident  followed,  which  was  im- 
proved with  no  less  dexterity .8  At  the  taking 
and  sack  of  Olynthus,  Stratocles  and  Eucrates, 
two  Athenians  of  distinction,  had  been  seized 
and  carried  into  Macedon.  By  some  accident 
these  men  had  not  been  released  with  the  other 
prisoners.  Their  relations  were  anxious  for 
their  safety,  and  therefore  applied  to  the  Athe- 
nians, that  a proper  person  might  be  sent  to 
treat  of  their  ransom.  Aristodemus  was  em- 
ployed in  this  commission,  but  was  more  atten- 
tive to  paying  his  court  than  performing  his 
duty  ; and,  at  his  return  home  neglected  to  give 
an  account  of  his  negotiation.  Philip,  mean 
while,  whose  vigilance  never  slept,  and  who 
well  knew  the  hostile  resolutions  in  agitation 
against  him  at  Athens,  released  the  prisoners 
without  ransom,  and  dismissed  them  with  the 


highest  expressions  of  regard.  Moved  by  grati- 
tude, Stratocles  appeared  in  the  assembly,  bla- 
zoned forth  the  praises  of  the  king  of  Macedon, 
and  loudly  complained  against  the  careless  in- 
difference of  Aristodemus,  who  had  neglected 
to  report  his  embassy.9 

The  artful  player,  thus  called  upon  to  act  his 
part,  excused  his  omitting  to  relate  one  example 
of  kindness,  in  a man  whq  had  recently  given 
so  many  proofs  of  the  most  unbounded  genero- 
sity. He  expatiated  on  the  candour  and  bene- 
volence of  Philip,  and  especially  on  his  pro- 
found respect  for  the  republic,  w ith  which,  he 
assured  them,  the  king  of  Macedon  was  earnest 
to  conclude  a peace,  and  even  to  enter  into  an 
alliance,  on  the  most  honourable  and  advan- 
tageous terms.  He  probably  reminded  them 
of  the  misfortunes  which  had  attended  their 
arms  since  they  commenced  war  against  this 
prince.  Fifteen  hundred  talents  expended  with 
disgrace;  seventy-five  dependent  cities,  includ- 
ing those  of  the  Chalcidic  region,  lost  irrecover- 
ably; Olynthus  destroyed;  Euboea  revolted; 
Athens  dishonoured  and  exhausted;  and  Mace- 
don more  powerful  and  more  respected  than  at 
any  former  period.  This  representation  did  not 
exceed  the  truth  ; and  the  calamities  of  the  wai 
had  long  inclined  to  peace  the  more  moderate 
and  judicious  portion  of  the  assembly.  The 
artificial  generosity  of  Philip,  in  his  treatment 
of  Phrynon  and  Stratocle^,  blazoned  by  the 
eloquence  of  Aristodemus,  fixed  the  wavering 
irresolution  of  the  multitude.  The  military 
preparations  were  suspended.  Even  Demos 
thenes  and  Aeschines  yielded  to  the  torrent ; and 
imagining  that  a bad  peace  was  better  than  a 
bad  urar  (since  it  was  impossible  to  expect  suc- 
cess from  the  fluctuating  councils  of  their  coun- 
try,) supported  a decree10  of  Philocrates  for 
sending  a herald  and  ambassadors  to  discover 
the  real  intentions  of  Philip,  and  to  hearken  to 
the  terms  of  accommodation  with  which  he  had 
so  long  amused  them. 

The  ministers  appointed  to  this  commission 
seem  to  have  been  purposely  chosen  among  men 
of  opposite  principles,  wdio  might  mutually  be 
checks  on  each  other.  Phrynon,  Ctesiphon, 
Aristodemus,  and  Philocrates,  who  had  uni- 
formly testified  their  confidence  in  the  king  of 
Macedon,  were  opposed  by  ASschines  and  De- 
mosthenes, who  had  long  discovered  their  sus- 
picions of  that  prince.  To  the  embassy  wTere 
added  Nausiclesand  Dercyllus,  men  distinguish- 
ed by  the  public  offices  which  they  had  discharg- 
ed writh  equal  patriotism  and  fidelity;  .Tatrocles, 
the  chosen  friend  of  Aeschines ; and  Cimon, 
illustrious  for  the  name  he  bore,  which  descend- 
ed to  him  from  the  greatest  and  most  fortunate 
of  the  Athenian  commanders.  The  whole  num- 
ber amounted  to  ten,  besides  Agalocreon  of 
Tenedos,  who  was  sent  on  the  part  of  the  Greek 
islands  in  alliance  w'ith  Athens.* 11 

Thus  far  contemporary  authors  agree;  but  in 
describing  the  events  which  followed  the  de- 
parture of  the  ambassadors,  all  is  inconsistency 


0 /TNchines  de  Falsa  Legntione. 

10  The  decre'*  was  attacked  by  one  Licinus.  Dcmos- 
tlienrs  defended  it;  and  both  Demosthenes  and  Aeschines, 
as  appears  from  the  text,  wore  on  tho  embassy. 

11  Dcinosthen.  and  Alehin.  de  Falsa  Legatione. 


6 AjJschines  de  Falsa  Legatione. 

7 Id.  ibid. 


8 Id.  ibid. 


392 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


and  contradiction.  The  misunderstanding  that 
arose  between  iEschines  and  Demosthenes,  the 
former  of  whom  was  impeached  by  the  latter, 
furnish  us,  in  the  accusation  and  defence,  with 
the  fullest  and  most  diffuse,  but  at  the  same 
time  the  least  authentic,  materials,  that  present 
themselves  in  any  passage  of  Grecian  history. 
The  whole  train  of  the  negotiation,  as  well  as 
the  events  connected  with  it,  are  represented  in 
colours  the  most  discordant;  facts  are  asserted 
and  denied;  while  both  parties  appeal  to  the 
memory  of  the  assembly  before  which  they 
spoke,  to  the  testimony  of  witnesses,  and  even 
to  the  evidence  of  public  decrees  and  records;* 
circumstances  that  must  appear  very  extraordi- 
nary, unless  we  consider  that  suborning  of  wit- 
nesses, perjury,  and  even  the  falsifying  of  laws 
and  records,  were  crimes  not  unusual  at  Athens.1 
Amidst  this  confusion,  the  discerning  eye  of 
criticism  would  vainly  endeavour  to  penetrate 
the  truth.  iEschines  was  indeed  acquitted  by 
his  countrymen.  But  nothing  positive  can  be 
learned  from  a partial  sentence,  pronounced 
three  years  after  the  alleged  crimes  had  been 
committed,  when  the  power  of  Philip  had  in- 
creased to  such  an  alarming  degree,  as  gave  his 
faction  a decided  ascendant  even  in  the  Athe- 
nian assembly. 

To  disentangle  such  perplexity, 
c^r  we  keep  chiefly  to  those  facts 
cviii  2 which  are  allowed  on  both  sides, 
A C 348  deducinS  front  • them  such  conse- 
aiid  347  ' Auences  as  seem  most  natural  and 
probable.  In  the  course  of  one  year, 
three  embassies  were  sent  to  Philip;  the  first 
to  propose  a peace,  the  second  to  ratify  it,  the 
third  to  see  the  conditions  of  it  observed ; and 
in  that  space  of  time  Kersobleptes,  being  strip- 
ped of  his  dominions,  was  reduced  into  captivi- 
ty, and  Philip  having  seized  Thermopylae,  in- 
vaded Phocis,  and  destroyed  the  twenty-two 
cities  of  that  province  in  less  than  twenty-two 
days.  Nor  was  this  all:  a foreign  prince  having 
made  himself  master  of  Thermopylae  and  the 
Hellespont,  the  most  valuable  safeguards  of 
Greece — having  invaded  and  desolated  the  ter- 
ritory of  a Grecian  republic,  the  most  respecta- 
ble for  its  antiquity,  power,  and  wealth,  the  seat 
of  the  Amphictyonic  council,  and  of  the  revered 
oracle  of  Delphi — These  daring  measures  tended 
so  little  to  excite  the  displeasure  of  Greece,  that 
the  king  of  Macedon  had  no  sooner  accomplish- 
ed them,  than  he  threatened  to  attack  Athens 
(who  weakly  lamented  calamities  which  she 
had  neither  prudence  nor  courage  to  prevent)  at 
the  head  of  a general  confederacy  of  the  Am- 
phictyonic states. 

Such  extraordinary  transactions,  of  which 
history  scarcely  offers  another  example  for  the 
instruction  of  posterity,  Demosthenes  ascribes 
entirely  to  the  corruption  and  perfidy  of  the 
Athenian  ambassadors.  “ The  felicity  of  Phi- 
lip,” he  says,  “consists  chiefly  in  this;  that 
having  occasion  for  traitors,  fortune  has  given 
him  men  treacherous  and  corrupt  beyond  his 
most  sanguine  hopes  and  prayers.”2  This, 


12  See  my  Discourse  on  the  Character  and  Manners  of 
the  Athenians,  prefixed  to  Lysias  and  Isocrates. 

2 Subsequent  writers  have  copied  the  language  of  De- 
mosthenes, **»  xe*l/**T*v  *-M]5os  SmSaug  roiS  tv  t»»s 


[Chap. 

doubtless,  is  the  exaggeration  of  an  orator,  de- 
sirous by  every  means  to  blacken  the  character 
of  his  colleagues  in  the  embassy,  and  particu- 
larly that  of  his  adversary  iEschines.  Yet  it 
will  appear,  from  the  most  careful  survey  of  the 
evenis  of  those  times,  that  the  incapacity  and 
neglect,  if  not  the  treason,  of  the  Athenian  mi- 
nisters, greatly  contributed  to  the  success  of  the 
Macedonian  arms. 

From  the  first  moment  of  their  departure 
from  Athens,  the  ambassadors  began  to  betray 
their  mutual  jealousies  and  suspicions  of  each 
other’s  fidelity.  The  dangerous  character  of 
Philocrates  was  equally  dreaded  by  iEschines 
and  Demosthenes;3  and  the  latter,  if  we  may 
believe  his  rival,  so  much  disgusted  the  other 
ambassadors,  by  the  morose  severity  of  his  tem- 
per, that  they  had  almost  excluded  him  their 
society ; a circumstance  rendered  credible,  not 
merely  by  the  partial  evidence  of  an  adversary, 
but  by  the  resentment  and  indignation  dlways 
expressed  by  Demosthenes  against  the  beha- 
viour of  his  colleagues.  Having  arrived  at  Pella, 
they  were  introduced  to  an  audience ; and  spoke, 
as  had  been  agreed  on,  in  the  order  of  their 
seniority.  The  discourse  of  iEschines  was  the 
most  copious  and  elaborate,  but  seemed  rather 
calculated  for  gaining  merit  with  the  Athenian 
assembly,  than  for  influencing  the  conduct  of 
Philip.  “He  recalled  to  the  memory  of  the 
king,  the  favours  of  the  Athenians  towards  his 
ancestors;  the  distressed  condition  of  the  chil- 
dren of  Amyntas;  the  solicitations  of  Euridice; 
and  the  generous  interpositions  of  Iphicrates,  to 
whom  the  family  of  Philip  owed  the  crown  of 
Macedon.  Having  touched  slightly  on  the  un 
grateful  returns  made  by  Ptolemy  and  Perdic 
cas,  he  dwelt  on  the  injustice  of  those  hostilities 
which  Philip  had  committed  against  the  re- 
public, especially  in  taking  Amphipolis,  which 
his  father  Amyntas  had  acknowledged  to  be  a 
dependent  colony  of  Athens.  He  insisted  on 
the  impropriety  of  retaining  this  possession, 
which  as  it  could  not  be  claimed  by  any  ancient 
title,  neither  could  it  be  held  by  the  right  of 
conquest,  not  being  gained  in  any  war  between 
the  two  states.  In  the  time  of  profound  peace 
between  Athens  and  Macedon,  Philip  had  taken 
from  the  Amphipolitans  an  Athenian  city, 
which  it  concerned  his  justice  and  his  honour 
to  restore,  without  delay,  to  its  lawful  and  ac- 
knowledged owners.” 

Had  iEschines  wished  to  furnish  Philip  with 
a pretence  for  protracting  the  negotiation,  he 
could  not  have  done  it  more  effectually  than  by 
such  a demand.  It  could  not  possibly  he  ex- 
pected, that  a victorious  monarch  should  set 
bounds  to  his  own  triumphs,  in  order  to  pur- 
chase peace  by  tamely  surrendering  one  of  the 
most  important  of  his  acquisitions.  In  this  light 
the  proposal  appeared  to  Demosthenes,  who 
thought  that  his  colleague  had  totally  forgotten 
the  object  of  the  embassy,  the  distressed  state  of 
Athens,  how  greatly  the  people  had  been  ha- 
rassed by  the  war,  and  how  eagerly  they  wished 
for  peace.  It  was  now  his  own  turn  to  speak 
before  a prince  whom  he  had  often  and  highly 


5TOXJO-*  18-xveoTi,  5TOA.A.OU5  18-jrf  oSsra;  rmv 

Diodorus,  ubi  supra. 

3 Demosthen.  and  .Fschin.  de  Falsa  Legation# 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


393 


XXXV.] 

offended,  whose  character  and  actions  he  had 
ever  viewed  and  represented  with  the  utmost 
severity;  but  whom,  on  the  present  occasion,  it 
was  his  business  to  soothe  rather  than  to  irri- 
tate. The  novelty  of  the  situation  might  have 
disconcerted  a man  of  less  sensibility  than  De- 
mosthenes. The  envious  jealousy  of  his  col- 
leagues was  prepared  to  listen,  with  a malicious 
ear,  to  those  irresistible  arguments  which  the 
orator  is  said  to  have  promised,  with  a very  un- 
becoming confidence;  the  Macedonian  courtiers 
expected  some  prodigy  of  eloquence  from  tlie 
perpetual  opponent  of  their  admired  master. 
Amidst  the  silent  suspense  of  an  unfavourable 
audience,  Demosthenes  began  to  speak  with 
ungrateful  hesitation,  and  after  uttering  a few 
obscure  and  interrupted  sentences,  his  memory 
totally  forsook  him.  Philip  endeavoured  to  re- 
move his  embarrassment  with  a mortifying  po- 
liteness, telling  him  that  he  was  not  now  in  a 
theatre,4  where  such  an  accident  might  be  at- 
tended with  disagreeable  consequences ; and, 
exhorting  him  to  take  time  for  recollection,  and 
to  pursue  his  intended  discourse.  Demosthenes 
again  began,  but  without  better  success.  The 
assembly  beheld  his  confusion  with  a malignant 
pleasure  ; and  the  ambassadors  were  ordered  to 
withdraw. 

After  a proper  interval,  they  were  summoned 
to  the  royal  presence.  Philip  received  them 
with  great  dignity,  and  answered  with  precision 
and  elegance  the  arguments  respectively  used  by 
the  several  speakers,  particularly  those  of  iEs- 
chines.  The  confused  hints  of  Demosthenes  he 
passed  over  with  merited  neglect ; thus  proving 
to  the  world,  that  the  man  who  had  ever  ar- 
raigned him  with  most  severity  in  the  tumultu- 
ous assemblies  of  Greece,  had  not  dared  to  say 
any  thing  in  his  presence  which  deserved  the 
smallest  notice  or  reply.  The  ambassadors  were 
then  invited  to  an  entertainment,  when  Demos- 
thenes is  said  to  have  behaved  with  great  weak- 
ness, and  where  Philip  displayed  such  powers 
of  merriment  and  festivity,  as  eclipsed  his  talents 
for  negotiation  and  war.  The  ambassadors  were 
persuaded  of  his  candour  and  sincerity,  and 
dismissed  with  a letter  to  the  people  of 
Athens,  assuring  them  that  his  intentions  were 
truly  pacific,  and  that  as  soon  as  they  consented 
to  an  alliance  with  him,  he  would  freely  indulge 
those  sentiments  of  affection  and  respect  which 
he  had  ever  entertained  for  their  republic. 

The  mortification  which  Demosthenes  had 
received,  made  him  at  first  vent  his  chagrin  by 
cqndemning  the  conduct  of  his  colleagues;  but 
when  he  reflected,  that  a fair  representation  of 
facts  would  greatly  depreciate  his  character  at 
Athens,  policy  prevailed  over  resentment.  He 
began  privately  to  tamper  with  his  companions 
on  the  road,  freely  rallied  the  confusion  into  ' 
which  he' had  been  betrayed,  extolled  the  ready 
genius  and  memory  of  iEschines ; and  endea- 
voured, by  promises  and  flattery,  to  ingratiate 
himself  with  those  whom  his  recent  behaviour 


4 Notwithstanding  the  passion  of  the  Athenians  for  dra- 
matic entertainments,  and  their  consideration  for  tho  cha- 
racter of  players  beyond  that  of  any  other  nation,  they  were 
indecently  severe  against  their  negligences  and  faults  on  the 
theatre ; as  appears  from  various  passages  of  the  judicial 
orations  of  Demosthenes  and  Aeschines. 

3D 


had  justly  provoked  and  disgusted.  In  a con- 
versation at  Larissa  in  Thessaly,  he  acknow- 
ledged the  masterly  reasoning  of  the  king  of 
Macedon.  The  ambassadors  all  joined  in  the 
praises  of  this  extraordinary  man.  iEschines 
admired  the  strength  and  perspicuity  with  which 
he  had  answered  their  respective  discourses ; and 
Ctesiphon  cried  out  in  transport,  that,  in  the 
course  of  a long  life,  he  had  never  beheld  a man 
of  such  a polite  and  engaging  deportment.  De- 
mosthenes then  artfully  said,  “ he  apprehended 
they  would  not  venture  to  make  such  represen- 
tations to  the  Athenian  assembly  , that  their 
honour  and  safety  required  them  to  be  consistent 
in  their  reports;”  to  which  they  all  assented; 
and  iEschines  acknowledges,  that  he  was  pre- 
vailed on  by  the  entreaties  of  his  rival  to  pro- 
mise, that  he  would  give  a favourable  and  false 
account  of  the  behaviour  of  Demosthenes,  and 
assure  the  people  of  Athens,  that  he  had  spoken 
with  dignity  and  firmness  on  the  affair  of  Am- 
phipolis. 

According  to  the  forms  of  the  republic,  the 
ambassadors  first  reported  the  success  of  their 
negotiation,  and  delivered  the  letter  of  Philip, 
to  the  senate  of  the  Five  Hundred.  They  ex- 
plained,^ order,  what  each  had  said  in  presence 
of  the  king  ; when  Demosthenes,  rising  up  the 
last,  affirmed  with  his  usual  oath  of  assevera- 
tion,5 “ that  the  ambassadors  had  not  spoken  in 
the  senate  as  they  did  before  Philip  ; that  they 
had  spoken  much  better  in  Macedon  he  then 
moved,  that  they  should  be  honoured  with  a 
crown  of  sacred  olive,6  and  invited  next  day  to 
an  entertainment  in  the  Prytanseum.7 

The  day  following,  they  made  their  report  to 
the  assembly  of  the  people ; when  the  ambassa- 
dors,finding  the  subject  not  disagreeable  to  their 
hearers,  expatiated  on  the  politeness,  condescen- 
sion, eloquence,  and  abilities  of  the  prince,  with 
whom  their  republic  was  ready  not  only  to  ne- 
gotiate a peace,  but  to  contract  an  alliance. 
Having  allowed  them  to  exhaust  this  fertile 
subject,  Demosthenes  at  length  arose,  and,  after 
those  contortions  of  body,  which,  if  we  believe 
his  adversary,  were  familiar  to  him,  declared, 
that  he  was  equally  surprised  at  those  who,  in  a 
deliberation  of  such  importance,  could  talk  of 
such  trifles,  and  at  those  who  could  endure  to 
hear  them.  u The  negotiation  may  be  briefly 
reported.  Here  is  the  decree  by  which  we  are 
commissioned.  We  have  executed  this  commis- 
sion. Here  is  Philip’s  answer  (pointing  to  the 
letter.)  You  have  only  to  examine  its  contents.” 
A confused  murmur  arose  in  the  assembly, some 
applauding  the  strength  and  precision  of  the 
speech,  others  condemning  the  asperity  of  the 
speaker.  As  soon  as  he  could  be  heard,  De- 
mosthenes thus  proceeded  : u You  shall  see  how 
I will  lop  olf  those  superfluous  matters.  Aes- 
chines praises  the  memory  and  eloquence  of 
Philip,  in  which,  however,  I find  nothing  ex- 
traordinary, since  any  other  man,  placed  in  the 
same  advantageous  circumstances  of  rank  and 


5 Mu  Aiu,  indecently  explained  “by  Jove,”  since  the  ex- 
pression is  elliptical,  and  includes  a snort  prayer, 

tov  Ac*  <r<a'(siv  tu  ; “My  assertion  is  true,  may  Jovo 
thus  protect  me.” 

6 See  tho  Discourse  of  Lysias  on  an  accusation  for  cutting 
down  a consecrated  olive. 

I 7 iEschin.  do  Falsa  Legatione. 


394 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


fortune,  would  be  equally  attended  to  and  ad- 
mired. Ctesiphon  praises  the  gracefulness  and 
dignity  of  his  person  ; my  colleague  Aristode- 
mus  does  not  yield  to  him  in  these  particulars. 
Others  admire  his  mirth  and  gayety  at  table  ; 
yet  in  such  qualities  Philocrates  excels  him.1 
But  this  is  unseasonable.  I shall  therefore  draw 
up  a decree  for  convening  an  extraordinary  as- 
sembly, to  deliberate  on  the  peace  and  the  alli- 
ance.1’2 

The  decree  was  proposed  on  the  eighth  of 
March,  and  the  assembly  was  fixed  for  the  se- 
venteenth of  the  same  month.  In  the  interval, 
arrived,  as  ambassadors  from  Philip,  Antipater, 
the  most  respected  of  his  ministers  ; Parmenio, 
the  bravest  of  his  generals ; and  Eurylochus,  who 
united,  almost  in  an  equal  degree,  the  praise  of 
eloquence  and  valour.  Parmenio  had  been 
employed  in  the  siege  of  Halus,  a place  filled 
with  malcontents  from  Thessaly,  who  still  re- 
sisted the  Macedonian  power  in  that  country. 
That  he  might  haveleisure  to  join  his  colleagues, 
Parmenio  ordered  the  siege  to  be  converted  into 
a blockade;  and  the  merit  of  three  such  ambas- 
sadors sufficiently  announced  the  important  pur- 
poses which  Philip  wished  to  effect  by  the  pre- 
sent negotiation.  They  were  received  with  great 
distinction  by  the  senate,  and  (what  seems  ex- 
traordinary) lodged  in  the  house  of  Demosthe- 
nes, who  was  careful  to  adorn  their  seats  in  the 
theatre,  and  to  distinguish  them  by  every  other 
mark  of  honour.3  Having  been  introduced,  on 
the  appointed  day,  into  the  assembly,  they  de- 
clared the  object  of  their  commission,  to  con- 
clude in  the  name  of  their  master  a peace  and 
alliance  with  the  people  of  Athens.  Demosthe- 
nes, in  an  elaborate  speech,  urged  the  expediency 
of  listening  to  their  demands  ; but  without  neg- 
lecting the  interest  of  the  Athenian  allies.  rEs- 
chines  delivered  the  same  opinion,  and  severely 
reproached  Philocrates,  who  urged  the  necessity 
of  precipitating  the  treaty.  The  two  first  days 
were  spent  in  debate;  but  on  the  third,  the  in- 
fluence of  Philocrates  prevailed,  chiefly,  if  we 
believe  Demosthenes,  by  the  unexpected  acces- 
sion of  iEschines  to  that  party.  He,  who  had 
hitherto  been  a strenuous  defender  of  the  inter- 
est of  Kersobleptes,  declared  that  he  had  now 
altered  his  opinion.  That  peace  was  necessary 
for  Athens,  and  ought  not  to  be  retarded  by  the 
slow  deliberations  of  other  powers.  That  the 
circumstances  of  the  republic  were  changed; 
and  that,  in  their  actual  situation,  it  was  an  idle 
vanity  to  attend  to  those  who  flattered  them 
with  pompous  panegyrics  of  the  magnanimity 
of  their  ancestors ; since  the  weakness  of  Athens 
was  no  longer  called  on  to  undertake  the  pro- 
tection of  every  state  that  could  not  defend  its 
own  cause.”4 

Demosthenes  had  formerly  suspected  the  trea- 
chery of  iEschines  ; but  this  speech  fully  con- 
vinced him,  that  if  his  adversary  had  not  before 
sold  himself  to  Philip,  he  had  then  been  tam- 
pered with,  and  gained  by  the  Macedonian  am- 


1 Even  by  Demosthenes’s  testimony,  it  required  the 
combination  of  several  Athenian  characters  to  match  the 
various  excellences  of  Philip. 

2 iEschin.  de  Falsa  Legatione. 

3 iEschin.  in  Ctesinhont. 

4 Demosthen.  de  Falsa  Legatione. 


[Chap. 

bassadors.  But  Demosthenes,  and  the  assembly 
in  general,  saw  the  necessity  of  immediately 
ratifying  the  peace  with  that  prince,  who  had 
actually  taken  the  field  in  Thrace,  along  the 
coast  of  which  the  Athenians  still  possessed  Ser- 
rium,  Doriscus,  and  several  other  tributary 
cities.  A decree  was  proposed  for  this  purpose, 
and  ambassadors  were  named,  who  might,  with 
all  convenient  speed,  repair  to  Philip,  in  order 
mutually  to  give  and  receive  the  oaths  and  rati- 
fications of  the  treaty  just  concluded  at  Athens. 
The  ambassadors  were  Eubulus,  Aeschines, 
Ctesiphon,  Democrates,  and  Cleon  ; the  princi- 
pal of  whom,  being  entirely  devoted  to  the  Ma- 
cedonian interest, contrived  various  pretences  to 
delay  their  departure.  In  this  interval,  Kerso- 
bleptes met  with  the  unhappy  fate  of  which  we 
have  already  taken  notice ; and  Philip,  en- 
couraged by  the  success  of  his  intrigues,  ven- 
tured to  attack  the  cities  of  Serrium  and  Doris- 
cus, which  readily  submitted  to  his  arms.5 
Upon  intelligence  of  the  latter  event,  the  Athe- 
nians despatched  Euclides  to  inform  the  king  of 
Macedon,  that  the  places  which  he  had  taken 
belonged  to  Athens  ; to  which  he  coldly  replied, 
that  he  had  not  been  so  instructed  by  his  am- 
bassadors, nor  was  there  any  mention  of  those 
cities  in  the  treaty  recently  signed,  but  not  yet 
ratified,  between  the  two  powers. 

iEschines  and  his  colleagues  still  delayed  to 
set  out,  although  the  conduct  of  Philip  con- 
tinually urged  the  necessity  of  hastening  their 
departure.  They  wrere  finally  ordered  to  be 
gone,  in  consequence  of  a decree  proposed  by 
Demosthenes,6  who  was  unable  to  prevail  on  the 
Athenians,  till  it  was  too  late,  to  pay  due  regard 
to  the  interest  of  Kersobleptes.  In  twenty-five 
days  the  Athenian  ministers  arrived  at  Pella,  a 
journey  which  they  might  have  performed  in 
six  : and  instead  of  directly  proceeding  to  Phi- 
lip, who  was  employed  in  reducing  the  cities  on 
the  Prepontis,  they  patiently  waited,  above 
three  weeks,  the  return  of  that  monarch  to  his 
capital.  During  their  residence  in  Pella,  they 
were  joined  by  Demosthenes,  who,  at  his  own 
request,  had  been  added  to  this  commission, 
under  pretence  of  ransoming  some  Athenian 
captives,  but  in  reality  with  a view  to  watch 
the  conduct  of  his  colleagues.  Philip  at  length 
arrived  : the  ambassadors  were  called  to  an 
audience.  On  this  occasion  they  spoke,  not  as 
formerly,  according  to  their  respective  ages,  but 
in  an  order,  if  wre  believe  IEschines,  first  esta- 
blished by  the  impudence  of  Demosthenes ; 
whose  discourse,  as  represented  by  his  adver 
sary,  must  have  appeared  highly  ridiculous, 
even  in  an  age  when  the  decent  formality  of 
public  transactions  was  little  known  or  re- 
garded. 

Anticipating  his  more  experienced  colleagues, 
he  observed,  “ That  they  were  unfortunately 
divided  in  their  views  and  sentiments.  That 
his  own  were  strictly  conformable  to  those  of 
Philip.  From  the  beginning  he  had  advised  a 
peace  and  alliance  with  Macedon.  That  he 
had  procured  all  possible  honours  for  the  am- 
bassadors of  that  country  during  their  resi- 
dence in  Athens,  and  had  afterwards  escorted 


5 Demosthen.  Orat.  v.  in  Philipp. 

6 Demosthen.  de  Falsa  Legatione. 


XXXV.l  HISTORY  OF  GREECE.  39J 


their  journey  as  far  as  Thebes.  He  knew  that 
his  good  intentions  had  been  misrepresented  to 
Philip,  on  account  of  some  expressions  that 
had  dropped  from  him  in  the  Athenian  assem- 
bly. But  if  he  had  defied  the  superior  excel- 
lence of  that  prince  in  beauty,  in  drinking,  and 
in  debate,7  it  was,  because  he  believed  such 
qualities  to  belong  to  a woman,  a spunge,  and 
a hireling  rhetorician  and  sophist,  rather  than 
to  a warlike  monarch,  and  mighty  conqueror.” 
This  extraordinary  apology  excited  the  derision 
of  the  Macedonian  courtiers,  and  made  the 
Athenian  ambassadors  hold  down  their  heads 
in  confusion.8 

iEschines  first  recovered  his  composure;  and 
modestly  addressing  Philip,  observed,  u That 
the  present  was  not  a proper  occasion  for  the 
Athenian  ministers  to  praise  or  to  defend  their 
own  conduct.  They  had  been  deemed  worthy 
of  their  commission  by  the  republic  which  em- 
ployed them,  and  to  which  alone  they  were 
accountable.9 *  Their  actual  business  was  to 
receive  Philip’s  oath  in  ratification  of  the  treaty 
already  concluded  on  the  part  of  Athens.  The 
military  preparations  carrying  on  in  every  part 
of  Macedon  could  not  but  excite  their  fears  for 
the  unhappy  Phocians.  But  he  entreated  Philip, 
that,  if  he  was  determined  to  gratify  the  The- 
bans by  making  war  on  that  unfortunate  peo- 
ple, he  would  make  at  least  a proper  distinc- 
tion between  the  innocent  and  the  guilty.  The 
sacriligeous  violators  of  the  temple  ought  to 
be  punished  with  due  severity;  the  state  itself 
must  be  spared  ; since  the  laws  and  institutions 
of  Greece  guard  the  safety  of  every  Amphic- 
tyonic  city.  iEschines  then  spoke,  in  the  se- 
verest terms,  against  the  injustice  and  cruelty 
of  the  Thebans,  who,  he  ventured  to  prophesy, 
would  repay  the  partiality  of  Philip  with  the 
same  falsehood  and  ingratitude  with  which 
they  had  been  accustomed  to  requite  their  for- 
mer allies  and  benefactors.” 

The  discourse  of  .Eschines,  though  it  could 
not  be  expected  to  move  the  resolutions  of  the 
king,  was  well  calculated  to  raise  the  credit  of 
the  speaker,  when  it  should  be  reported  in  his 
own  country.  Philip  confined  himself  to  vague 
expressions  of  friendship  and  respect.  The 
ambassadors  of  Thebes  were  already  at  Pella, 
a circumstance  which  furnished  him  with  a 
pretence  for  declining  to  make  an  explicit  de- 
claration in  favour  of  Phocis.  But  he  hinted 
his  compassionate  concern  for  that  republic; 
and  requested  the  Athenians  to  accompany  him 
to  Thessaly,  that  he  might  avail  himself  of 
their  abilities  and  experience  to  settle  the  af- 
fairs of  that  country,  which  required  his  im- 
mediate presence.  Extraordinary  as  this  de- 
mand was,  the  Athenians  readily  complied  with 
it,  notwithstanding  the  king,  who  had  ordered 
his  army  to  march,  was  attended  in  this  expe- 
dition by  the  ambassadors  of  Thebes,  who,  as 
well  as  the  Athenians,  were  daily  entertained 
at  his  table,  and  whose  views  were  diametri- 


7  See  above,  p.  304. 

8 /Rschin.  He  Falsa  Lejrafione. 

9 The  speech  of  ^Eschines.  as  reported  by  himself,  is 

inimitably  graceful  and  dignified.  Aeyw  on  orcft^eixv 

nftx;  Afyvxioi  5rgi<rCe»;,  &c.  Vid.  p.  261,  et  seq.  edit. 

Wolf. 


cally  opposite  to  the  interests  both  of  Phocis  and 
of  Athens.19 

q.  The  unhappy  and  distracted  situ- 

ation  of  the  former  republic  pro- 
CAV1r  mised  a speedy  issue  to  the  Sacred 

' * ' War,  which,  for  more  than  two 

years,  had  been  feebly  carried  on  between  the 
Phocians  on  one  side,  and  the  Thebans  and 
Locrians  on  the  other,  by  such  petty  incursions 
and  ravages  as  indicated  the  inveterate  rancour 
of  combatants,  who  still  retained  the  desire  of 
hurting,  after  they  had  lost  the  power.11  Dur- 
ing the  greater  part  of  that  time,  the  Atheni- 
ans, amused  by  their  negotiation  with  Philip, 
afforded  no  assistance  to  their  unfortunate  al- 
lies. The  treasures  of  Delphi,  immense  as  they 
were,  at  length  began  to  fail.  The  Phocians, 
thus  abandoned  and  exhausted,  reflected  with 
terror  and  remorse  on  their  past  conduct ; and, 
in  order  to  make  atonement  for  their  sacrile- 
gious violations  of  the  temple,  instituted  a ju- 
dicial inquiry  against  Phaleucus,  their  general, 
and  his  accomplices,  in  plundering  the  dedica- 
tions to  Apollo.12  Several  were  condemned  to 
death  ; Phaleucus  was  deposed  ; and  the  Pho- 
cians, having  performed  these  substantial  acts 
of  justice,  which  tended  to  remove  the  odium 
that  had  long  adhered  to  their  cause,  solicited 
with  better  hopes  of  success  the  assistance  of 
Sparta  and  Athens. 

But  the  crafty  Archidamus,  who  had  long  di- 
rected the  Spartan  councils,  considered  the  dis- 
tress of  the  Phocians  as  a favourable  opportunity 
to  urge  the  claim  of  his  own  republic  to  the  su- 
perintendence of  the  Delphic  temple ; and  ac- 
tually sent  ambassadors  into  Thessaly,  to  con- 
fer with  the  king  of  Macedon  on  that  subject.13 
The  Athenians  paid  more  attention  to  the  re- 
quest of  their  allies,  who,  as  an  inducement  to 
excite  their  activity,  offered  to  put  them  in  pos- 
session of  the  towns  of  Nicaea,  Alpenus,  and 
Thronium,  which  commanded  the  straits  of 
Thermopylae.  But  this  salutary  plan,  which 
might  have  retarded  the  fate  of  Greece,  was 
defeated  by  Phaleucus,  who  commanding  eight 
thousand  mercenaries,  that  acknowledged  no 
authority  but  that  of  their  general,  established 
his  head-quarters  at  Nicaea,  and  despised  the 
menaces  both  of  Phocis  and  of  Athens. 

Mortifying  as  this  disappointment  must  have 
been,  it  was  followed  by  a disaster  in  another 
quarter  still  more  terrible.  The  Phocians  had 
fortified  the  city  of  Abae,  to  defend  their  north- 
ern frontier  against  the  depredations  of  the 
Locrians.  The  Thebans,  reinforced  by  some 
auxiliaries  of  Macedon,  marched  against  that 
place.  The  Phocians,  with  more  courage  than 
prudence,  met  them  in  the  field  ; but  were  de- 
feated with  great  slaughter,  and  pursued,  in 
their  disordered  flight,  through  the  surrounding 
territory.  A party  of  above  five  hundred  took 
refuge  in  the  temple  of  Abaean  Apollo,  where 
they  remained  for  several  days,  sleeping  under 
the  porticoes,  on  beds  of  dried  herbs,  straw,  and 
other  combustible  materials.  An  accidental 


10  Demosthcn.  do  Fnlfm  Legatione. 

1 1 Diodor.  1.  xvi.  p.  454. 

12  Idem.  p.  453. 

13  Demosthen.  and  ./Eschin.  nbi  supra. 


396 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


fire,  that  began  in  the  night,  was  communicated 
to  the  whole  edifice,  part  of  which  was  con- 
sumed, while  the  unhappy  Phocians  were  sti- 
fled, or  burnt  to  ashes.1 

The  Thebans  failed  not  to  represent  this  ca- 
lamity as  a judgment  of  heaven,  against  the 
daring  impiety  of  wretches,  who  had  ventured 
to  take  refuge  in  the  temple  of  a god  whom 
their  sacrilege  had  long  offended.  They  en- 
treated Philip  to  assist  them  in  destroying  the 
remnant  of  the  guilty  race.  This  was  the  chief 
purpose  of  their  embassy  to  that  prince,  whom 
the  Athenians,  as  related  above,  entreated  to 
spare  the  nation,  while  he  punished  the  crimi- 
nals ; and  the  Lacedaemonians,  regardless  of 
the  fate  of  Phocis,  thought  only  of  making 
good  their  ancient  claim  to  the  guardianship  of 
the  Delphic  temple. 

Philip  treated  the  deputies  of  the  three  re- 
publics with  apparent  frankness  and  cordiality, 
under  the  veil  of  which  he  knew  so  well  to  dis- 
guise the  interests  of  his  policy  and  ambition. 
He  assured  the  Thebans  that  his  arms  should 
be  employed  to  recover  for  them  the  towns 
of  Orchomenus,  Coronaea,  and  Tilphosseum, 
which,  ever  ready  to  rebel  against  a tyrannical 
capital,  had  readily  submitted  to  the  Phocians, 
during  their  invasion  of  Bceotia.  The  Phocians, 
he  said,  had  rendered  themselves  the  objects  of 
divine  displeasure  ; it  would  be  as  meritorious 
to  punish,  as  it  was  impious  to  protect  them. 
He  was  determined  that  both  they  and  their 
allies  should  suffer  those  calamities  which  their 
crimes  so  justly  deserved.  Thus  far  Philip  was 
sincere ; for,  in  these  particulars,  the  views  of 
Thebes  were  exactly  conformable  to  his  own. 
But  in  his  mind  he  agitated  other  matters,  in 
which  the  interest  of  Thebes  interfered  with 
that  of  Macedon.  To  accomplish  those  pur- 
poses, without  offending  his  allies,  it  was  ne- 
cessary to  gain  the  ambassadors.  Caresses, 
flattery,  and  promises,  were  lavished  in  vain. 
Money  was  at  length  tendered  with  a profuse 
liberality  ; but,  though  no  man  ever  possessed 
more  address  than  Philip  in  rendering  his  bribes 
acceptable,  the  Theban  deputies  remained  ho- 
nest and  uncorrupted,  firmly  maintaining  to 
the  end  their  patriotism  and  their  honour.  Phi- 
Ion,  the  chief  of  the  embassy,  answered  for  his 
colleagues:  “We  are  already  persuaded  of 
your  friendship  for  us,  independent  of  your 
presents.  Reserve  your  generosity  for  our  coun- 
try, on  which  it  will  be  more  profitably  bestow- 
ed, since  your  favours,  conferred  on  Thebes, 
will  ever  excite  the  gratitude  both  of  that  re- 
public and  its  ministers.”2 

Demosthenes  extols  the  dignity  of  this  re- 
ply, as  becoming  rather  the  ambassadors  of 
Athens.  But  these  ministers,  though  one  ob- 
ject of  their  commission  was  to  save  the  Gre- 
cian state  which  the  Thebans  wished  to  de- 
stroy, discovered  neither  integrity  nor  spirit. 
All  of  them,  but  Demosthenes  himself,  ac- 
cepted the  presents  of  the  king  of  Macedon, 
who  found  little  difficulty  in  persuading  men, 
thus  prepossessed  in  his  favour,  that  he  pitied 
the  Phocians ; that  he  respected  Athens  ; that 


he  detested  the  insolence  of  Thebes ; and  that, 
should  he  ever  proceed  to  the  straits  of  Ther- 
mopylae, his  expedition  would  be  more  danger- 
ous to  that  state  than  to  its  enemies.  At  pre- 
sent, however,  he  observed,  that  he  had  private 
reasons  for  managing  the  friendship  of  a people 
who  set  no  bounds  to  their  resentment.  From 
such  motives,  he  had  hitherto  declined  ratifying 
the  peace  with  Athens ; but  this  measure  he 
would  no  longer  defer.  He  only  entreated, 
that  to  save  appearances  with  the  Thebans,  the 
name  of  the  Phocians  might  be  omitted  in  the 
treaty.  This  arduous  work  was  at  length 
brought  to  a conclusion ; and,  for  the  more 
secrecy,  transacted  in  a place  which  Demos- 
thenes calls  a tavern,  adjoining  to  the  temple 
of  Pollux,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Pherae. 
The  Athenian  ambassadors  took  leave,  affect- 
ing to  be  persuaded  (perhaps  persuaded  in  re- 
ality) of  the  good  intentions  of  the  king  of 
Macedon.  About  the  same  time,  the  ambas- 
sadors of  Sparta  departed,  but  with  far  less 
satisfaction.  They  either  perceived,  from  the 
beginning,  the  artifices  of  the  prince  with  whom 
they  came  to  treat,  or  at  least  made  such  a re- 
port to  Archidamus,  as  convinced  him  that  his 
republic  had  not  any  advantage  to  expect  from 
the  preponderance  of  the  Macedonian  inte- 
rest, and  the  destruction  of  the  Phocians ; 
and  that,  should  the  Spartans  persist  in  their 
claim  to  the  superintendence  of  the  Delphic 
temple,  they  must  prepare  to  assert  it  by  force 
of  arms. 

Archidamus  raised  an  army  for  this  purpose, 
and  marched  towards  the  straits.  But  the  in- 
trigues of  Philip,  as  we  shall  have  occasion  to 
relate,  rendered  his  hostility  as  impotent  as  his 
negotiations  had  been  fruitless.  From  Thes- 
saly that  prince  had  already  sent  a letter  to  the 
Athenians,  couched  in  the  most  artful  terms. 
He  expressed  his  profound  respect  for  the  state, 
and  his  high  esteem  for  its  ambassadors ; de- 
claring that  he  should  omit  no  opportunity  of 
proving  how  earnestly  he  desired  to  promote 
the  prosperity  and  glory  of  Athens.  He  re- 
quested that  the  means  might  be  pointed  out 
to  him,  by  which  he  could  most  effectually  gra- 
tify the  people.  Of  the  conditions  of  the  peace 
and  alliance,  he  was  careful  to  make  no  men- 
tion ; but  after  many  other  general  declarations 
of  his  good-will,  he  entrusted  them  “ not  to  be 
offended  at  his  detaining  their  ambassadors,  of 
whose  eloquence  and  abilities  he  wished  to 
avail  himself  in  settling  the  affairs  of  Thes- 
saly.”3 

Soon  afterwards  these  ambassadors  returned 
home ; and  having  given  an  account  of  their 
negotiation  to  the  senate  of  the  Five  Hundred, 
with  very  little  satisfaction  to  that  select  body, 
they  next  appeared  before  the  popular  assem- 
bly. jEschines  first  mounted  the  rostrum,  and 
in  an  elaborate  and  artful  discourse,  set  forth 
the  advantages  resulting  from  his  successful 
embassy,  in  which  he  had  persuaded  Philip  to 
embrace  precisely  those  measures  which  the 
interest  of  Athens  required.  That  now,  the 
people  had  peace  instead  of  war,  and  that, 
without  harassing  themselves  by  military  expe 


1 Diodorus,  p.  454. 

2 Demosthen.  de  Falsa  Legatione. 


3  Demosthen.  et  jEschin.  ubi  supra 


XXXV.l  HISTORY  OF  GREECE.  39/ 


ditions,  they  had  only  to  remain  quietly  at 
lome,  enjoying  the  amusements  of  the  city, 
and  in  a few  days  they  would  learn  that  Philip 
had  passed  Thermopylae,  to  take  vengeance, 
not  on  the  Phocians,  but  on  the  Thebans,  who 
had  been  the  real  authors  of  the  war,  and  who, 
having  entertained  a design  of  seizing  the  tem- 
ple, were  not  the  less  culpable  (as  had  been 
proved  to  Philip)  because  they  had  failed  in 
this  impious  purpose.  That  the  Boeotian  allies 
of  Thespiae  and  Platte,  whose  hatred  to  Thebes 
was  as  inveterate  as  their  attachment  to  Athens 
was  sincere,  would  be  restored  to  their  pristine 
strength  and  splendour.  That  the  Thebans, 
not  the  Phocians,  would  be  compelled  to  pay 
the  fine  imposed  by  the  Amphictyonic  council, 
and  to  repair  the  fatal  effects  of  sacrilege  and 
profanation.  That  the  magistrates  of  Thebes 
foresaw  the  hostility  of  Philip,  and  well  knew 
by  whom  it  had  been  excited.  “They  have, 
therefore,”  said  iEschines,  “ devoted  me  to  de- 
struction, and  actually  set  a price  upon  my 
head.  The  people  of  Euboea  are  equally  alarm- 
ed by  our  accommodation  with  Philip,  not 
doubting  that  their  island  will  be  restored  to 
us,  as  an  equivalent  for  Amphipolis.  Nor  are 
these  the  only  advantages  of  the  treaty  : ano- 
ther point  of  still  higher  importance,  a point  of 
the  most  intimate  concern  to  the  public,  has 
been  secured.  But  of  this  I shall  speak  at  an- 
other time,  since  at  present  I perceive  the  envy 
and  malignity  of  certain  persons  ready  to  break 
forth.”  The  advantage  hinted  at,  with  such 
significant  obscurity,  was  the  recovery  of  Oro- 
pus,  a considerable  city  on  the  Athenian  fron- 
tier, which  had  long  been  subject  to  Thebes.' 

This  specious  haiangue,so  flattering  to  the  in- 
dolence and  vain  hopes  of  the  multitude,  was 
received  with  general  approbation,  notwith- 
standing the  opposition  of  Demosthenes,  who 
declared  that  he  knew  nothing  of  all  those  great 
advantages  promised  by  his  colleague ; and  that 
he  did  not  expect  them.  iEschines  and  Philo- 
crates  heard  him  with  the  supercilious  contempt 
of  men  who  possessed  a secret  with  which  he 
was  unacquainted.  But  when  he  endeavoured 
to  continue  his  discourse,  and  to  expose  their 
artifice  and  insincerity,  all  was  clamour,  indig- 
nation, and  insult.  iEschines  bade  him  remem- 
ber, not  to  claim  any  share  of  the  rewards  due 
to  the  important  services  of  his  colleagues. 
Philocrates,  with  an  air  of  pleasantry,  said,  it 
was  no  wonder  that  the  hopes  of  Demosthenes 
were  less  sanguine  than  his  own,  “since  he 
drinks  water;  I wine.”  This  insipid  jest  was 
received  with  loud  bursts  of  laughter  and  ap- 
plause, which  prevented  the  assembly  from  at- 
tending to  the  spirited  remonstrances  of  Demos- 
thenes. A motion  was  made,  and  agreed  to, 
for  thanking  Philip  for  his  equitable  and  friendly 
intentions,  as  well  as  for  ratifying  a perpetual 
peace  and  alliance  between  Athens  and  Mace- 
don.4  In  the  same  decree,  it  was  determined 
that  the  Phocians  should  submit  to  the  Amphic- 
tyomc  council,  under  pain  of  incurring  the  dis- 
pleasure of  the  republic. 

These  articles,  together  with  the  secret  mo- 
tives which  produced  them,  were,  by  the  emis- 


saries of  Philip,  immediatly  communicated  to 
the  Phocian  ambassadors  then  residing  at 
Athens;  who,  transported  with  joy  at  the  pros- 
pect ' of  averting  the  calamities  which  long 
threatened  their  country,  lost  no  time  in  trans- 
mitting the  agreeable  intelligence  to  their  fel- 
low citizens.  They  concluded,  with  a high 
degree  of  probability,  that,  however  Philip 
might  deceive  the  Phocians,  the  ministers  of 
Athens  could  never  be  so  bold  as  publicly  to 
deceive  the  Athenians ; and  that,  therefore, 
they  could  no  longer  entertain  any  reasonable 
doubt  of  the  favourable  disposition  of  the  king 
of  Macedon.  This  belief  was  so  firmly  estab- 
lished, that  when  Archidamus  marched  into 
Phocis  at  the  heacbof  an  army  in  order  to  defend 
the  temple  against  Philip,  the  Phoci%.ns  rejected 
his  assistance,  observing,  that  they  feared  for 
Sparta  much  more  than  for  themselves;  upon 
which  the  Lacedaemonians  returned  into  Pelo- 
ponnesus.5 

Philip  was  now  prepared  for  executing  his 
grand  enterprise.  Halus,  long  besieged,  had 
submitted  to  the  united  arms  of  Parmenio  and 
his  own.  Fresh  troops  had  arrived  from  Ma- 
cedon. The  Athenians  were  appeased;  the  La- 
cedaemonians had  retired;  the  Phocians  were 
imposed  on;  the  Thessalians,  Thebans,  and 
Locrians,  were  ready  to  follow  his  standard. 
One  obstacle  only  remained,  and  that  easy  to 
be  surmounted.  Phaleucus,  who  commanded 
eight  thousand  mercenaries,  still  kept  posses- 
sion of  Nicaea.  But  a man  who  had  betrayed 
the  interest  of  his  own  republic,  could  not  be 
very  obstinate  in  defending  the  cause  of  Greece. 
Philip  entered  into  a negotiation  with  him,  in 
order  to  get  possession  of  Nicsea,6  without  which 
it  would  have  been  impossible  to  pass  the  Ther- 
mopylae ; and  while  this  transaction  was  going 
forward,  wrote  repeated  letters  to  the  Atheni- 
ans, full  of  cordiality  and  affection. 

He  suspected  the  dangerous  capriciousness  of 
a people,  whose  security  might  yet  be  alarmed; 
and  whose  opposition  might  still  prove  fatal  to 
his  designs,  should  they  either  march  forth  to 
the  straits,  or  command  their  admiral  Proxenus, 
who  was  stationed  in  the  Opuntian  gulf,  be- 
tween Locris  and  Euboea,  to  intercept  the  Ma- 
cedonian convoys;  for  the  frontiers  both  of 
Phocis  and  Thessaly  having  long  lain  waste  in 
consequence  of  the  sacred  war,  Philip  received 
his  provisions  chiefly  by  sea.  The  seasonable 
profession^  of  friendship,  contained  in  the  let- 
ters, not  only  kept  the  Athenians  from  listening 
to  the  remonstrances  of  Demosthenes,  but  pre- 
vailed on  them  to  depute  that  orator,  together 
with  iEschines,  and  several  others,  whose  ad- 
vice and  assistance  Philip  affected  to  desire  in 
settling  the  arduous  business  in  which  he  was 
engaged.  Demosthenes  saw  through  the  arti- 
fice of  his  enemies,  for  withdrawing  him,  at 
this  important  crisis,  from  his  duty  in  the  as- 
sembly : he  therefore  absolutely  refused  the 
commission.  iEschines,  on  pretence  of  sickness, 
staid  at  home  to  watch  and  counteract  the  mea- 
sures of  his  rival.  The  other  ambassadors 
departed,  in  compliance  with  the  request  of 


Demosthen.  de  Falsa  Lcgatione. 


5 Demosthen.  de  Falsa  Legatione. 

6 Diodor.  1.  xvi.  p.  455. 


398 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Philip,  and  the  orders  of  their  republic,  and  in 
hopes  of  seeing  a treaty  fulfilled,  which  they 
had  been  tau'ght  to  believe,  would  be  attended 
with  consequences  equally  advantageous  and 
honourable.1 

While  the  ambassadors  travelled  through  Eu- 
boea, in  their  way  to  join  the  king  of  Macedon, 
they  learned,  to  their  utter  astonishment,  the 
wonderful  events  that  had  been  transacted. 
Thaleucus  had  been  persuaded  to  evacuate  Ni- 
caea.  He  retired  towards  the  Peloponnesus,  and 
embarked  at  Corinth,  with  a view  to  sail  to 
Italy,  where  he  expected  to  form  an  establish- 
ment. But  the  capricious  and  ungovernable 
temper  of  his  followers  compelled  him  to  make 
a descent  on  the  coast  of  Elis.  After  this  they 
re-embarked,  and  sailed  to  Crete,  where  their 
invasion  proved  fatal  to  their  general.  Having 
returned  to  the  Peloponnesus,  they  were  defeat- 
ed by  the  Elians  and  Arcadians.  The  greater 
part  of  those  who  survived  the  battle,  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  enemy,  by  whom  they  were 
shot  with  arrows  or  precipitated  from  rocks. 
A feeble  remnant  escaped  to  their  ships,  but 
perished  soon  afterwards  in  an  insurrection 
which  they  had  excited  or  fomented,  in  the  isle 
of  Sicily.  The  destruction  of  this  numerous 
body  of  men  is  ascribed  by  ancient  historians2 
to  the  divine  vengeance  w7hich  pursued  their 
sacrilege  and  impiety.  It  is  astonishing  that 
those  superstitious  writers  did  not  reflect  on  the 
swifter  and  more  terrible  destruction  that  over- 
took the  whole  Phocian  nation,  by  whom  the 
wickedness  of  Phaleucus  and  his  followers  had 
been  so  recently  condemned ; and  by  whom,  had 
not  power  been  wranting,  it  would  have  been 
punished  with  an  exemplary  rigour. 

Philip  having  parsed  the  straits  of  Thermo- 
pylae, was  received  by  the  Phocians  as  their  de- 
liverer. He  had  promised  to  plead  their  cause 
before  the  Amphictyonic  council,  to  the  deci- 
sions of  which  that  credulous  people  consented 
to  submit,  well  knowing  that  a prince  who  en- 
tered Greece  at  the  head  of  a numerous  army 
might  easily  control  the  resolutions  of  the  Am- 
phictyons,  and  fondly  believing  that  prince  to 
be  their  friend.  The  deputies  of  Athens  had 
not  yet  arrived ; those  of  the  southern  republics 
had  not  even  been  summoned.  The  Locrians, 
Thebans,  and  Thessalians,  alone  composed  the 
assembly  that  was  to  decide  the  fate  of  Phocis; 
a country  which  they  had  persecuted  with  un- 
relenting hostility  in  a war  of  ten  years.  The 
sentence  was  such  as  might  be  expected  from 
the  cruel  resentment  of  the  judges.  It  was  de- 
creed that  the  Phocians  should  be  excluded 
from  the  general  confederacy  of  Greece,  and  for 
ever  deprived  of  the  right  to  send  representa- 
tives to  the  council  of  Amphictyons:  that  their 
arms  and  horses  should  be  sold  for  the  benefit 
of  Apollo;  that  they  should  be  allowed  to  keep 
possession  of  their  lands,  but  compelled  to  pay 
annually  from  their  produce  the  value  of  sixty 
thousand  talents,  till  they  had  completely  in- 
demnified the  temple;  that  their  cities  should  be 
dismantled,  and  reduced  to  distinct  villages, 
containing  no  more  than  sixty  houses  each,  at 
the  distance  of  a furlong  from  each  other  ; and 


[Chap. 

that  the  Corinthians,  who  had  recently  given 
them  some  assistance,  should  therefore  be  de- 
prived of  the  presidency  at  the  Pythian  games; 
which  important  prerogative,  together  with  the 
superintendence  of  the  temple  of  Delphi,  as  well 
as  the  right  of  suffrage  in  the  Amphictyonic 
council,  lost  by  the  Phocians,  should  thence- 
forth be  transferred  to  the  king  of  Macedon. 
It  was  decreed  that  the  Amphictyons,  having 
executed  these  regulations,  should  next  proceed 
to  procure  all  due  repairs,  and  expiations  to 
the  temple,  and  should  exert  their  wisdom  and 
their  power  to  establish,  on  a solid  foundation, 
the  tranquillity  and  happiness  of  Greece.3 
Q,  This  extraordinary  decree,  when 

cvni  2 communicated  to  the  Phocians,  filled 

A C 347  ^lat  misera^e  Pe°ple  with  such  ter- 
ror and  dismay,  as  rendered  them 
totally  incapable  of  acting  with  vigour  or  u ith 
union.  They  took  not  any  common  measures 
for  repelling  the  invader ; a few  cities  only, 
more  daring  than  the  rest,  endeavoured,  with 
unequal  strength,  to  defend  their  walls,  their 
temples,  and  the  revered  tombs  of  their  ances- 
tors. Their  feeble  resistance  was  soon  over- 
come ; all  opposition  ceased ; and  the  Macedo- 
nians proceeded  to  execute  the  will  of  the  Am- 
phictyonic council  with  inflexible  cruelty,  and 
with  such  undisturbed  order  and  silence  as 
seemed  more  dreadful  than  the  tumultuary  ra- 
vages of  the  fiercest  war.  Without  dropping  a 
tear,  or  heaving  a sigh,  since  the  smallest  mark 
of  regret  was  construed  into  an  obstinac}7  of 
guilt,  the  wretched  Phocians  beheld  the  destruc- 
tion of  their  ancient  monuments  and  trophies, 
their  proud  walls  levelled  with  the  ground,  the 
fertile  banks  of  the  divine  Cephissus  covered 
with  ruin  and  desolation,  and  the  venerable 
cities  of  Daulis,  Penopeus,  Lilaea,  and  Hyam- 
polis,  which  had  flourished  above  nine  centuries 
in  splendour  and  prosperity,  and  which  will  for 
ever  flourish  in  the  song  of  Homer,  so  totally 
burned  or  demolished  as  scarcely  to  leave  a 
vestige  of  their  existence.4  After  this  terrible 
havoc  of  whatever  they  possessed  most  valuable 
and  respected,  the  inhabitants  were  driven  like 
herds  of  cattle  to  the  settlements  allotted  for 
them,  and  compelled  to  cultivate  their  paternal 
fields  for  the  benefit  of  stern  and  unrelenting 
masters.  At  the  distance  of  three  years,  travel- 
lers, who  passed  through  Phocis  to  visit  the 
temple  of  Delphi,  melted  with  compassion,  or 
shuddered  with  horror,  at  the  sight  of  such 
piteous  and  unexampled  devastation.  They 
turned  their  reluctant  eyes  from  the  shattered 
ruins  of  a country,  and  a people,  once  so  illus- 
trious; the  youth,  and  men  of  full  age.  had 
either  perished  in  the  wrar,  or  been  dragged  into 
captivity;  the  populous  cities  were  no  more; 
and  the  villages  were  thinly  inhabited  by  wo- 
men, children,  and  wretched  old  men,  whose 
silent  but  emphatic  expressions  of  deep-rooted 
misery  exceeded  all  power  of  words  to  describe.5 

The  unexpected  news  of  these  melancholy 
events  reached  Athens  in  five  days.  The  peo- 
ple were  then  assembled  in  the  Piraeus  to  ex- 
amine the  state  of  their  harbours  and  shipping. 


1 Demosthen.  de  Falsa  Legatione. 

2 Diodorus,  1.  xvi.  c.  xx.  gives  this  as  a general  opinion. 


3 Diodor.  1.  xvi.  c.  lix.  et  seq. 

4 Pausanias  in  Phocic.  et  Diodor.  1.  xvi.  c.  lix.  et  seq. 

5 Demosthen.  et  ^Eschin.  de  Falsa  Lcgat.  et  de  Coron. 


XXXV.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


399 


The  dreadful  intelligence  filled  them  with  con- 
sternation. They  imagined  that  they  already 
beheld  the  destructive  armies  of  Macedon  and 
Thessaly,  excited  by  the  inveterate  hostility  of 
Thebes,  pouring  in  upon  their  northern  frontier, 
and  overwhelming  the  whole  country  with 
havoc  and  desolation.  A decree  immediately 
passed,  at  the  motion  of  Callisthenes,  which 
marked  the  utmost  danger  and  dismay.  It 
was  resolved,  “ that  the  Athenians,  who  usually 
resided  in  the  country,  should  be  summoned  to 
the  defence  of  the  city;  that  those,  within  the 
distance  of  twelve  miles  round,  should,  along 
with  their  persons,  transport  their  most  valua- 
ble effects  into  the  city  or  the  Piraeus;  that 
those  at  a greater  distance  should  respectively 
convey  themselves  and  their  property  to  the 
nearest  fortresses,  particularly  Eleusis,  Phyle, 
Aphidna,  and  Sunium,  the  principal  places  of 
strength  in  the  Attic  territory.”13 

Tins  decree  shows,  that  terror  was  the  first 
movement  of  the  Athenians;  but  vengeance 
was  the  second.  Reluctantly  cooped  up  within 
their  walls,  they  called  aloud  for  arms : levies 
were  prepared  for  the  relief  of  Phocis ; and  their 
admiral  Proxenus,  who  had  lately  returned 
from  the  neighbouring  coast,  was  ordered  again 
to  direct  his  course  towards  that  country.  The 
king  of  Macedon  was  duly  attentive  to  those 
transactions,  of  which  he  had  been  regularly 
informed  by  his  emissaries.  He  therefore  wrote 
a letter  to  the  Athenians,  in  that  style  of  supe- 
riority which  the  success  of  his  policy  and  of 
his  arms,  justly  entitled  him  to  assume.  After 
acquainting  them  with  his  treatment  of  the 
Phocians,  he  mentions  his  being  informed  of 
their  preparations  for  supporting  that  impious 
people,  who  were  not  included  in  the  treaty  of 
peace  recently  signed  and  ratified  between 
Athens  and  Macedon.  He  exhorts  them  to  lay 
aside  this  unwarrantable  design,  which  could 
have  no  other  effect  than  to  show  the  inqiuity 
and  extravagance  of  their  conduct,  in  arming 
against  a prince,  with  whom  they  had  so  lately 
concluded  an  alliance.  “ But  if  you  persist, 
know  that  we  are  prepared  for  repelling  your 
hostilities  with  equal  firmness  and  vigour.” 

This  mortifying  letter  was  received  at  the 
same,  time  that  the  Athenian  ambassadors  re- 
turned from  Euboea,  and  brought  such  accounts 
of  the  destruction  of  the  Phocians,  that  it  ap- 
peared scarcely  possible  to  afford  them  any  re- 
lief. All  that  remained  was  to  save,  from  the 
unrelenting  vengeance  of  their  enemies,  the 
miserable  wreck  of  that  unfortunate  communi- 
ty. The  Athenians  passed  a decree  for  receiv- 
ing the  fugitives  with  kindness,  and  for  provid- 
ing them  with  settlements  in  Attica,  or  in  the 
foreign  dependencies  of  the  republic;  a resolu- 
tion which,  though  it  was  founded  on  the  most 
evident  duties  of  gratitude  and  humanity  to- 
wards ancient  and  faithful  allies,  gave  great  of- 
fence to  the  inexorable  cruelty  of  the  Thessali- 
ans and  Thebans.7 

Amidst  these  transactions  the  Macedonian 
partisans,  and  especially  Aeschines  and  Philo- 
crates,  whose  vain  assurances  had  been  attended 


6 Demosthen.  de  Falsa  Legat.  sect.  20. 

7 Demosthen.  et  ADschin.  de  Falsa  Legat.  sect.  20. 


with  such  fatal  effects,  had  just  cause  to  dread 
Lhe  resentment  of  their  country.  The  former, 
who  had  been  the  principal  agent  in  this  dis- 
graceful^cene  of  intrigue  and  delusion,  no  long- 
er affected  sickness;  he  forgot  the  threatenings 
denounced  against  him  by  Thebes;  he  disre- 
garded the  Athenian  decree,  prohibiting  any 
citizen  to  stir  from  the  walls  ; and  having  wait- 
ed for,  and  beheld,  the  destruction  of  the  Pho- 
cians with  as  much  indifference,  if  we  may  be 
lieve  his  adversary,  as  he  would  have  seen  the 
conclusion  of  any  ordinary  affair,  which  con- 
cerned merely  Ins  pecuniary  interest,  he  repair 
ed  to  Philip  to  receive  the  wages  of  his  iniquity. 
ACschines  accounts  for  his  journey  at  this  time 
by  a more  honourable,  but  less  probable  cause, 
the  desire  of  saving  the  feeble  and  unhappy 
remnant  of  the  Phocian  nation,  who  were  per- 
secuted to  extremity  by  the  barbarous  ven- 
geance of  their  Grecian  foes,  and  protected  at 
the  intercession  of  the  Athenian  orator,  by  the 
clemency  or  compassion  of  the  Macedonians. 
There  is  reason  to  believe  that  Aeschines,  in  or- 
der to  gain  merit  with  his  countrymen,  whose 
resentment  he  had  so  highly  provoked,  opposed 
an  inhuman  resolution  of  precipitating  from 
rocks  all  those  of  the  Phocians  who  had  attain- 
ed the  age  of  puberty.  But  the  king  of  Mace- 
don, whose  chaiiacter  was  not  naturally  flagi- 
tious, or  cruel  without  necessity,  must,  of  his 
own  accord,  have  been  inclined  to  avert  such 
an  atrocious  and  bloody  sentence,  which,  with- 
out promoting  his  interest,  would  have  forever 
ruined  his  fame. 

This  conclusion  appears  the  more  probable, 
since,  we  are  assured,  that,  upon  the  same  prin- 
ciple, but  with  far  less  success,  he  assumed  the 
protection  of  the  oppressed  Boeotians.  Orcho- 
menus,  Coroneea,  Hyampolis,  with  other  cities 
of  less  note  in  Boeolia,  were,  in  consequence  of 
the  ruin  of  their  Phocian  allies,  again  subjected 
to  the  dominion  of  Thebes;  a republic,  always 
haughty  and  unrelenting,  who,  on  this  occasion, 
prepared  to  treat  the  rebels  with  more  than  her 
usual  insolence  and  cruelty.  Philip  espoused 
the  cause  of  the  injured  with  a generous  ardour, 
extremely  disagreeable  to  the  Thebans.  His 
humanity,  whether  real  or  affected,  was  loudly 
extolled  by  his  partisans  in  most  republics  of 
Greece.  It  redounded,  however,  more  to  his 
own  glory,  than  to  the  benefit  of  the  afflicted 
Boeotians  ; wh.o,  being  expelled  from  their  own 
country  by  the  intolerable  oppression  of  Theban 
tyranny,  sought  refuge  in  the  compassionate 
bosom  of  Athens.8 

Having  finished  the  sacred  war 
Ji^  3n  a manner  so  favourable  to  his  own 
— interest  and  ambition,  Philip  con- 

* ’ vened  the  members  of  the  Arnphic- 

tyonic  council,  to  the  number  of  two  hundred, 
and  assisted  in  the  hymns, prayers,  and  sacrifices 
offered  to  Apollo,  in  acknowledgment  of  his 
divine  protection  of  their  councils  and  arms. 
The  name  of  the  pious  king  of  Macedon,  who 
had  been  the  principal  instrument  of  their  suc- 
cess, resounded  in  the  sacred  Pecans  sung  in  ho- 
nour of  the  god.  The  Amphictyons  ratified  all 
the  transactions  of  that  prince,  erected  his  sta- 
tue in  the  temple  of  Delphi,  and  acknowledged, 

8 Demosthen.  et  AGschin.  de  Falsa  Legat.  sect.  20. 


400 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


by  a solemn  decree,  the  kingdom  of  Macedon 
as  the  principal  member  of  the  Hellenic  body.1 
Philip  at  the  same  time  appointed  deputies  to 
preside  at  the  Pythian  games,  the  celebration 
of  which  was  nearly  approaching,  and  to  which 
most  of  the  Grecian  states  had  already  sent 
their  representatives.  The  Athenians,  stung 
with  indignation  and  regret,  abstained  from  this 
festival.  An  embassy  was  therefore  despatched 
to  them  in  the  name  of  the  Amphictyons,  re- 
quiring their  concurrence  with  measures  recent- 
ly embraced  by  the  general  council  of  Greece; 
and  remonstrating  against  their  displeasure  at 
the  aggrandisement  of  a prince  with  whom 
they  had  so  lately  contracted  an  alliance. 

The  deliberations  of  the  Athenian  assembly, 
on  this  occasion,  showed  the  full  extent  of  their 
own  folly,  and  evinced  the  consummate  policy 
of  Philip.  They  acknowledged,  with  dejection 
and  anguish,  that  they  had  neglected  the  many 
opportunities  presented  them  by  the  favour  of 
heaven,  for  repressing  the  ambition  of  their 
rival;  that  the  time  of  acting,  with  vigour  and 
boldness,  was  now  no  more;  that  the  cause  of 
Greece  was  an  empty  name,  since  the  Greeks 
surrendered  their  dignity  to  the  king  of  Mace- 
don; and  that  it  became  their  own  republic  to 
consult  rather  its  safety  than  its  honour,  and  to 
maintain  peace  with  a monarch  against  whom 
they  were  by  no  means  prepared  to  wage  war. 
Even  Demosthenes2  recommended  this  resolu- 
tion ; lest,  says  he,  we  should  offend  those  now 
assembled,  who  call  themselves  the  Amphicty- 
ons, and  thus  excite  a general  war  against  our- 
selves. The  Thebans,  besides  ancient  causes  of 
quarrel  with  us,  are  incensed  at  our  harbouring 
their  exiles ; the  Locrians  and  Thessalians  re- 
sent our  protecting  the  Phocians  ; the  Argives, 
the  Messenians,  and  Megalopolitans,  are  dis- 


[Chap. 

pleased  at  our  concurring  with  the  views  of 
Lacedaemon.  If  we  refuse  the  demands  of  Phi- 
lip and  the  Amphictyons,  they  may  assault  us 
with  the  combined  arms  of  all  those  states, 
which  we  are  totally  unable  to  resist.  One 
point,  therefore,  is  necessary,  the  continuance  ox 
the  present  peace ; not  that  it  is  so  very  excel- 
lent, or  so  worthy  of  you ; but,  of  what  kind 
soever  it  may  be,  it  were  more  for  the  interest 
of  your  affairs,  that  it  never  had  been  conclud- 
ed, than  that  now,  when  it  is  concluded,  you 
should  infringe  it.  This  opinion  was  universally 
approved : Macedon  was  acknowledged  a mem- 
ber of  the  Grecian  confederacy  ; and  Isocrates, 
an  Athenian  of  the  highest  merit  and  reputa- 
tion, addressed  a discourse  to  Philip,  in  which 
he  exhorted  him  to  disdain  inglorious  victories 
over  his  countrymen  and  friends,  to  employ  his 
authority  to  extinguish,  for  ever,  the  animosi- 
ties of  Greece,  and  to  direct  the  united  efforts 
of  that  country,  of  which  Macedon  now  formed 
a part,  against  the  wealth  and  effeminacy  of 
Persia,  its  ancient  and  natural  enemy.3 

Whether  these  exhortations  proceeded  from 
the  virtuous  simplicity  which  did  not  suspect, 
or  from  the  insinuating  and  artful  policy  which, 
though  it  suspected,  hoped  to  prevent,  the  hos- 
tile projects4  of  Macedon,  the  measures  of  Phi- 
lip were,  doubtless,  taken  with  too  much  care, 
and  his  plans  founded  too  deep  and  firm,  to  be 
shaken  by  the  specious  eloquence  of  a rhetori- 
cian. He  had  long  meditated  the  invasion  of 
Asia;  the  conquest  of  the  Persian  empire  was 
an  object  that  might  well  tempt  his  ambition ; 
but  neither  his  own  passions,  nor  the  arguments 
of  other  men,  could  hasten,  retard,  or  vary  his 
undeviating  progress  in  a system  which  could 
only  be  completed  by  consolidating  his  ancient, 
before  he  attempted  new  conquests. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 


Foundation  of  Philippopolis  and  Cabyla — Philip's  Expedition  to  Illyria — Alexander  receives  the 
Persian  Ambassadors — Affairs  of  Greece — Demosthenes  unmasks  the  Designs  of  Philiprs 
Expedition  to  the  Peloponnesus — to  Epirus — to  Thrace — Diopeithes  opposes  him  with  Vigour 
—The  Athenians  recover  Euboea — Siege  of  Perinthus — Philip's  Letter  to  the  Athenians — 
Expedition  of  Chares — of  Phocion — who  retrieves  the  Athenian  Affairs  in  Thrace — Philip's 
Scythian  Expedition — The  Incendiary  Antiphon — Philip's  Intrigues  embroil  the  Affairs  of 
Greece — The  third  Sacred  War — Philip  General  of  the  Amphictyons — Confederacy  against 
that  Prince — He  seizes  Elatcea — Battle  of  Chceroncea — His  Moderation  in  Victory — Demos- 
thenes's Oration  in  Honour  of  the  Slain. 


Olymp. 
cviii.  4. 

A.  C.  345. 


T)Y  his  intrigues  Philip  had  ob- 
tained  more  important  advan- 
tages, than  he  could  have  gained  by 
a long  series  of  victories.  The  con- 
quest of  Greece  was  his  object;  he  had  taken 
many  preliminary  measures  towards  effecting 
this  purpose ; while  his  conduct,  so  far  from  ex- 
citing the  jealousy  of  those  fierce  republics,  ac- 
quired their  admiration  and  gratitude.  Instead 
of  rousing  the  dangerous  resentment  of  a na- 


1 Diodor.  1.  xvi.  p.  60. 


2 Demosthen.  de  Pace. 


tion  whom  he  was  ambitious  to  subdue,  Philip 
disarmed  the  hostility  of  Athens,  and  threatened 
with  the  vengeance  of  combined  Greece,  the 
only  republic  that  appeared  forward  to  obstruct 
his  designs.  It  seemed  high  time,  therefore,  to 
withdraw  his  army  ; to  set  bounds,  for  the  pre- 
sent, to  his  own  triumphs;  nor  to  attempt,  with 
danger,  effecting  by  premature  force,  what 


3 Isocrat.  Orat.  Philipp. 

4 See  the  Life  of  Isocrates,  prefixed  to  my  translation  of 
his  works. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


401 


XXXVI.] 


might  be  safely  accomplished  by  seasonable 
policy.  Before  evacuating  Greece,  he  took  care 
to  place  a strong  garrison  in  Nicaea,  which 
might  thenceforth  secure  his  free  passage 
through  the  straits  of  Thermopylae.  Mace- 
donian troops  occupied  the  principal  cities  of 
Thessaly,  and  the  strongest  posts  of  Phocis. 
He  conducted  with  him  into  Macedon  eleven 
thousand  Phocian  captives ; an  acquisition 
which  he  regarded  as  not  the  least  valuable 
fruits  of  his  success;  and  of  which,  on  his  re- 
turn home,  he  determined  immediately  to  avail 
himself. 

The  warlike  tribes  of  Thrace,  though  often 
vanquished  had  never  been  thoroughly  subdued. 
In  order  to  bridle  the  dangerous  fury  of  those 
northern  barbarians,  Philip  built  two  cities,  Phi- 
lippopolis  and  Cabyla,5  the  first  at  the  west- 
ern extremity  of  the  country,  on  the  confines  of 
mount  Rhodope,  the  second  towards  the  east,  at 
the  foot  of  mount  Haemus,  above  a hundred  and 
fifty  miles  distant  from  each  other,  and  almost 
equall}7  remote  from  the  Macedonian  capital. 
The  Phocian  captives,  blended  with  a due  pro- 
portion of  Macedonian  subjects,  well  provided 
with  arms  for  their  defence,  were  sent  to  people 
and  cultivate  those  new  settlements,  whose 


flourishing  condition  soon  exceeded  the  expecta- 
tion of  their  founder.  At  the  same  time,  Philip 

Planted  a colony  in  the  isle  of  Thasos,  which 
ad  formerly  belonged  to  the  Athenians  ; but 
that  people  having  already  lost  possession  of  the 
gold  mines  at  Philippi,  on  the  neighbouring 
coast  of  Thrace,  seemed  now  so  indifferent 
about  the  possession  of  Thasos,  that  their  trans- 
ports were  employed  in  conveying  the  Mace- 
donians thither.6 

In  such  occupations, tchiefly,  Phi- 
ci/7*  lip  employed  the  first  year  of  the 
A C 344  Peace’  not  neglecting  1°  complete 
’ the  ornaments'  of  his  capital ; for 
which  purpose  he  borrowed,  as  formerly,  large 
sums  of  money  from  the  richest  citizens  of 
Greece.  The  year  following,  he  made  an  ex- 
pedition into  Illyria,  and,  at  the  expense  of  that 
country,  extended  his  dominions  from  the  lake 
Lychnidus  to  the  Ionian  sea.  This  district, 
about  sixty  miles  in  breadth,  was  barbarous 
and  uncultivated,  but  contained  valuable  salt- 
mines, which  had  occasioned  a bloody  war  be- 
tween two  neighbouring  tribes.  While  Philip 
was  absent  in  Illyria,  an  embassy  arrived  from 
Ochus  king  of  Persia,  who,  alarmed  by  the 
magnificent  reports  of  the  growing  greatness 
of  Macedon,  sent  the  most  trusty  of  his  minis- 
ters, who,  under  pretence  of  offering  to  Philip 
the  friendship  and  alliance  of  the  great  king, 
might  examine  with  their  own  eyes  the  strength 
and  resources  of  a monarch,  which  were  repre- 
sented as  so  formidable. 

In  the  absence  of  his  father,  the  young  Alex- 
ander did  the  honours  of  the  court;  and  it  is 
said,  that  during  an  entertainment  given  to 
the  Persian  ambassadors,  the  prince,  who  had 
not  yet  reached  his  twelfth  year,  discovered 
such  manly  and  premature  wisdom,  as  already 
announced  the  dawn  of  a very  extraordinary 


5 Strabo,  1.  vii.  p.  118. 

0 Demosthen.  de  Haloneso. 

3 E 


character.7  Among  other  questions,  that  could 
not  have  been  expected  from  his  age,  he  inquired 
into  the  nature  of  the  Persian  government  and 
art  of  war ; the  genius  and  disposition  of  the 
reigning  sovereign  ; the  distance  of  his  capital 
from  the  coast,  and  the  difficulty  of  the  inter- 
vening roads.8  Such  inquiries,  whatever  talents 
they  announced  in  the  young  prince,  seem  to 
prove  that  the  conquest  of  Persia  had  been  a 
frequent  subject  of  conversation  between  Alex- 
ander and  his  instructors ; and  that  an  un- 
bounded ambition  had  already  taken  possession 
of  his  youthful  mind.  The  ambassadors  heard 
him  with  astonishment,  and  exclaimed  with 
that  freedom  which  so  wonderfully  distin- 
guishes the  public  transactions  of  ancient,  from 
those  of  modern  times,  “ Ours  is  a rich  and 
powerful,  but  this  will  be  truly  a wise  and 
great  king.9 

Oivmn  Philip  had  no  sooner  returned 

cix^  l fr°m  I1brriai  he  made  an  ex- 
A C 344  curs^on  t°  Thessaly,  and  finally  set- 
tled the  affairs  of  that  distracted 
country  ; having  taken  on  himself  the  whole 
management  of  the  revenue,  and  having  di- 
vided the  territory  into  four  separate  govern- 
ments, in  order  to  weaken  the  force  of  oppo- 
sition, and  to  render  the  whole  province  more 
patient  and  submissive  under  the  dominion  of 
Mecedon.10 11  While  Philip  was  thus  employed 
in  Thessaly,  his  agents  were  not  less  active  in 
confirming  the  Macedonian  authority  in  the  isle 
of  Euboea.  Nor  was  he  satisfied  with  securing 
his  former  acquisitions  ; he  aspired  at  new  con- 
quests. The  barren  and  rocky  territory  of 
Megara,  divided  by  an  extent  of  only  ten  miles, 
the  frontier  of  Baeotia  from  the  isthmus  of  Co- 
rinth. The  industrious  and  frugal  simplicity 
of  this  little  republic  could  not  defend  its  virtue 
against  the  corrupt  influence  of  the  Macedo- 
nian." Philip  gained  a party  in  Megara,  which 
he  cultivated  with  peculiar  care  ; because,  be- 
ing already  master  of  Boeotia,  Phocis,  and 
Thessaly,  the  narrow  territory  of  the  Megarians 
formed  the  chief  obstacle  to  his  free  passage 
into  the  Peloponnesus,  the  affairs  of  which,  at 
this  juncture,  particularly  deserved  his  atten- 
tion. 

The  Lacedaemonians,  repulsed  by  Philip, 
whom  they  had  condescended  to  solicit,  rejected 
by  the  Phocians,  whom  they  offered  to  assist, 
and  having  lost  all  hopes  of  obtaining  the  guar- 
dianship of  the  Delphic  temple,  totally  deserted 


7 Plutarch  (in  Alexandro.)  expresses  himself  strongly  on 
this  subject:  “ anrrs  eksivouj  (the  ambassadors)  5xviuxCeivr 
xx * rtfv  Kiyofiivvtv  $i\i5rxroo  SiivorifTx  /zviSev  xyettrixt 
Trgog  rtfv  tou  7rxi$ og  ogfin\v  xxi  /us y x\ o xr g x y/u o tv v n v.”— 
Read  y.iyx\ and  then  the  sentence  may  he  literally 
explained ; “ So  that  the  ambassadors  wondered,  and  thought 
nothin?  of  the  famed  abilities  of  Philip,  compared  with  the 
spirit  and  mngnanimity  of  his  son.”  I recollect  not  having 
met  with  /xiyxKoirg xy/*otr\>v\v  in  the  writers  of  the  Socratia 
age;  but  it  is  a good  word  to  mark  the  character  of  a per- 
son “ who  busies  himself  about  great  objects.” 

8 Plutarch,  in  Alexand. 

fl  I huve  used  a little  freedom  with  the  words  of  Plu- 
tarch, <«s  0 irxii  0VTOf  ZxtriKivs  fityxf  o Si  t\/xtTig0g  xrXoo- 
<tjo«.  Plut.  Orat.  ii.  de  Forlun.  Alexand. 

10  Demosfh.  Philipp,  iii. 

11  Demosth.  de  Falsa  Legatione,  et  Philipp,  iii.  In 
Philipp,  iv.  he  speaks  as  if  Philip  had  made  some  open  at- 
tempt against  Megara,  in  which  he  had  failed: 

(acil.  EuSoroej)  oKiywg ovy-ivutg,  Miyxgx  iX\<o  *xgxftix.g0v7 

p.  54. 


402 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


a scene  of  action,  in  which  they  could  expect 
neither  profit  nor  honour,  and  confined  their 
politics  and  their  arms  within  the  narrow  circle 
of  their  own  peninsula.  For  almost  two  years, 
Archidamus  had  laboured  with  undivided  atten- 
tion, and  with  his  usual  address  and  activity, 
to  extend  the  pretensions  and  the  power  of 
Sparta  over  the  territories  of  Messene,  Argos, 
and  Arcadia.  His  measures,  planned  with 
prudence,  and  conducted  with  vigour,  were  at- 
tended with  success,  though  the  inhabitants  of 
the  dependent  provinces  bore  with  much  regret 
and  indignation  the  yoke  of  a republic,  which 
they  had  formerly  spurned  as  oppressive  and  in- 
tolerable. Their  murmurs  and  discontents  were 
inflamed  into  hostility  by  the  Thebans,  the 
eternal  enemies  of  Sparta,  and,  at  that  time, 
closely  allied  with  the  king  of  Macedon.  To 
this  monarch  the  Thebans  applied,  requesting 
him  not  to  permit  the  destruction  of  their  con- 
federates in  the  Peloponnesus.  The  intrigues 
and  money  of  Philip  had  already  gained  him  a 
considerable  influence  in  that  country,  which 
he  wTag  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  increase.  To 
justify  his  proceedings  for  this  purpose,  he  pro- 
cured a decree  qf  the  Amphictyonic  council, 
requiring  him  to  check  the  insolence  of  Sparta, 
and  to  protect  the  defenceless  communities 
which  had  so  often  been  the  victims  of  her  ty- 
ranny and  cruelty.  Encouraged  by  this  reso- 
lution of  the  Amphictyons,  and  impelled  by  his 
own  ambition,  Philip  sent  troops  and  money 
into  the  Peloponnesus,  and  prepared  to  march 
thither  in  person,  at  the  head  of  a powerful 
army.1 

These  transactions  excited  new  commotions 
and  alarms  throughout  most  countries  of 
Greece.  The  Corinthians,2  jealous  of  the 
power  of  a prince,  who,  at  the  close  of  the  Pho- 
cian  w7ar,  deprived  them  of  their  ancient  pre- 
rogatives and  honours,  and  who,  still  more  re- 
cently, had  taken  possession  of  Leucas,  a city 
in  Acarnania,  and  of  Ambracia  in  Epirus,  both 
colonies  of  Corinth,  determined  to  oppose  his 
passage  into  the  Peloponnesus.  Weapons  and 
defensive  armour  were  provided,  the  walls  and 
fortifications  were  repaired,  mercenary  troops 
were  levied,  the  citizens  exercised  in  arms,  the 
whole  republic  glowed  with  the  ardour  of  mili- 
tary preparation  ; insomuch  that  Diogenes  the 
Cynic,  who  lost  no  opportunity  to  deride  the 
follies  of  his  contemporaries,  beholding  with 
just  contempt  the  hurry  and  vain  bustle  of  the 
effeminate  Corinthians,  that  seemed  so  ill  cal- 
culated to  contend  with  the  active  vigour  of 
Philip,  began  to  roll  about  his  tub,3  lest  he 
should  be  the  only  person  unemployed  in  so 
busy  a city. 

The  Lacedsemonians,  mean  while,  not  less 
alarmed,  but  always  better  prepared  for  war, 
solicited  the  assistance  of  Athens.  The  latter 
state  had  received  a considerable  accession  of 
strength,  as  well  as  of  just  honour  and  respect. 


1 Demosth.  de  Pace. 

2 Lucian  de  Conscribend.  Histor. 

3 Auct.  apud  Brucker.  in  Vit.  Dioeen.  That  learned 
writer  has  collected  all  that  is  written  for  and  against 
the  tuh  nf  Diogenes.  Were  authors  less  explicit,  the  movea- 
ble habitation  of  this  philosopher  would  be  sufficiently  at- 
tested by  ancient  monuments.  See  VVinckelmann,  d’Han- 
earville  &c. 


[Chap. 

from  its  hospitable  reception  of  the  distressed 
exiles  from  Phocis  and  Bceotia.  It  derived  new 
consideration  and  lustre  from  the  general  con- 
gress of  ambassadors  from  Sparta,  Thebes,  Ma- 
cedon, Argos,  Messene,  and  Arcadia,  who,  after 
a long  interval  of  time,  again  condescended  to 
assert  their  respective  claims  before  the  Athe- 
nian assembly.  The  Lacedaemonians  represent- 
ed the  league,  formed  against  themselves,  as 
alike  dangerous  to  Athens  and  to  Sparta;  that 
the  ambition  of  Philip  would  not  rest  satisfied 
with  a partial  conquest;  his  imagination  already 
grasped  the  dominion  of  Greece  ; and  now  w as 
the  only  time  for  the  two  leading  republics,  who 
had  ever  mutually  assisted  each  other  in  seasons 
of  calamity,  to  make  a firm  stand,  and  to  exert 
their  utmost  vigour  in  defence  of  their  own  and 
the  public  safety,  so  shamefully  abandoned  by 
the  Thebans,  and  by  the  mob  of  Peloponne- 
sus.4 The  Thebans  joined  with  the  ministers 
of  Philip  in  calling  on  the  Athenians  to  adhere 
strictly  to  their  treaty  of  peace  recently  con- 
cluded with  that  prince  ; they  endeavoured,  by 
art  and  sophistry,  to  varnish  or  to  palliate  such 
deeds  of  fraud  or  violence  as  could  not  be  alto- 
gether denied  ; and  laboured  wfith  the  utmost 
assiduity  to  separate  the  views  and  interests  of 
Athens  and  Lacedaemon  on  this  important 
emergency.  The  ambassadors  of  the  inferior 
states  of  Peloponnesus  loudly  complained,  that 
the  Athenians,  who  affected  to  be  the  patrons 
of  liberty,  should  favour  the  views  of  Sparta 
w hich  had  so  long  been  the  scourge  of  Greece 
They  represented  this  conduct  as  not  only  un- 
just and  cruel,  but  contradictory  and  absurd  ; 
and  used  many  plausible  arguments  to  deter  the 
people  of  Athens,  wTho  still  strenuously  asserted 
the  freedom  of  Bceotia,  from  taking  such  a part 
in  the  present  quarrel  as  might  tend  to  rivet 
the  chains  of  Peloponnesus. 

The  Athenian  orators,  many  of  them  crea- 
tures of  Philip,  exhorted  their  countrymen  not 
to  break  too  hastily  with  a prince  with  w7hom 
they  had  so  recently  concluded  an  alliance,  nor 
imprudently  renew  a bloody  and  destructive 
war,  out  of  which  they  had  been  lately  extri- 
cated with  so  much  difficulty.  They  observed, 
that  although  the  measures  of  Philip,  since  the 
conclusion  of  the  peace,  had  indeed  been  more 
agreeable  to  the  Thebans  than  to  the  Athenians, 
he  had  considered  himself  as  bound  in  justice  to 
chastise  the  sacrilege  of  the  Phocians.  Nor  was 
he  altogether  at  liberty  to  follow  his  own  incli- 
nations ; surrounded  by  the  Thessalian  cavalry 
and  the  Theban  infantry,  he  was  compelled  to 
treat  the  enemies  of  those  states  with  a severity 
which  his  own  feelings  disapproved.  But  the 
time  was  arrived  when  he  might  act  writh  more 
independence  and  dignity  ; and  that,  could  any 
credit  be  given  to  report,  ho  was  already  prepar- 
ing to  rebuild  the  ruined  cities  of  Phocis  and 
to  fortify  Elatae,  on  the  frontier  of  that  terri- 
tory, by  which  means  he  might  thenceforth  re- 
strain and  bridle  the  insolent  cruelty  of  Thebes. 
These  observations,  however  improbable,  re- 
ceived great  force  from  the  peaceful,  or  rather 
indolent  disposition  of  the  people,  who,  though 
they  heard  wfith  pleasure  those  who  magnified 


l 4 Ox?-ot  IUkox-owittrou,  Ieocrat.  in  Arcbidam. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


403 


XXXVI.] 

their  ancient  grandeur,  and  inveighed  against 
the  injustice  and  ambition  of  Philip,  were 
averse  to  employ  either  their  money  or  their 
personal  service,  in  such  active  measures,  as 
could  alone  set  bounds  to  the  Macedonian  en- 
croachments. 

Demosthenes,  last,  arose,  and  pronounced  a 
discourse,  which  the  king  of  Macedon  is  said  to 
have  read  with  a mixture  of  terror  and  admira- 
tion.5 “ When  you  hear  described,  men  of 
Athens  ! the  continual  hostilities  by  which  Phi- 
lip violates  the  peace,  I observe  that  you  approve 
the  equity  and  patriotism  of  those  who  support 
the  rights  of  the  republic : but  while  nothing  is 
done,  on  account  of  which  it  is  worth  while  to 
listen  to  such  speeches,  our  affairs  are  brought 
to  such  a pass,  that  the  more  clearly  we  convict 
Philip  of  perfidy  towards  you,  and  of  hostile 
designs  against  Greece,  the  more  difficult  it  is  to 
propose  any  seasonable  advice.  The  cause  of 
this  difficulty  is,  that  the  encroachments  of  am- 
bition must  be  repelled,  not  by  words,  but  by 
deeds.  If  speeches  and  reasonings  sufficed,  we 
should  long  ere  now  have  prevailed  over  our  ad- 
versary. But  Philip  excels  in  actions  as  much 
as  we  do  in  arguments ; and  both  of  us  obtain 
the  superiority  in  what  forms  respectively  the 
chief  object  of  our  study  and  concern  ; we  in 
our  assemblies,  Philip  in  the  field. 

“Immediately  after  the  peace,  the  king  of 
Macedon  became  master  of  Phocis  and  Ther- 
mopylae, and  made  such  a use  of  these  acquisi- 
tions as  suited  the  interest  of  Thebes,  not  of 
Athens.  Upon  what  principle  did  he  act  thus? 
Because,  governed  in  all  his  proceedings,  not 
by  the  love  of  peace  and  justice,  but  by  an  in- 
satiable lust  of  power,  he  saw  the  impossibility 
of  bending  the  Athenians  to  his  selfish  and  ty- 
rannical purposes.  He  knew  that  the  loftiness 
of  their  character  would  never  stoop  to  private 
considerations,  but  prefer  to  any  advantage  that 
he  might  offer  them,  the  dictates  of  justice  and 
of  honour ; and  that  neither  their  penetration, 
nor  their  dignity,  could  ever  be  prevailed  on  to 
sacrifice  to  a partial  and  temporary  interest, 
the  general  safety  of  Greece ; but  that  they 
would  fight  for  each  member  of  the  confederacy 
with  the  same  ardour  as  for  their  own  walls. 
The  Thebans  he  judged  (and  he  judged  aright) 
to  be  more  assailable;  he  knew  their  folly  and 
their  meanness  to  be  such,  that  provided  he 
heaped  benefits  on  themselves,  they  would  as- 
sist him  to  enslave  their  neighbours.  Upon  the 
same  principle  he  now  cultivates,  in  preference 
to  yours,  the  friendship  of  the  Messenians  and 
Argives;  a circumstance,  Athenians!  which 
highly  redounds  to  your  honour,  since  Philip 
thus  declares  his  persuasion,  that  you  alone  have 
wisdom  to  understand,  and  virtue  to  oppose,  his 
designs ; that  you  foresee  the  drift  of  all  his  nego- 
tiations and  wars,  and  are  determined  to  be  the 
incorruptible  defenders  of  the  common  cause. 
Nor  is  it  without  good  grounds  that  he  enter- 
tains such  an  honourable  opinion  of  you,  and 
the  contrary  of  the  Thebans  and  Argives.  When 
the  liberties  of  Greece  were  threatened  by  Per- 
sia, as  they  now  are  by  Macedon,  the  Thebans 
basely  followed  the  standard  of  the  invaders ; 


the  Argives  did  not  oppose  their  arms;  while 
the  magnanimous  patriots,  from  whom  you  are 
descended,  spurned  offers,  highly  advantageous, 
made  them  by  Alexander  of  Macedon,  the  an- 
cestor of  Philip,  who  acted  as  the  ambassador 
of  Persia;  and,  preferring  the  public  interest  to 
their  own,  provoked  the  devastation  of  their 
territory,  and  the  destruction  of  their  capital, 
and  performed,  in  defence  of  Greece,  those  un- 
rivalled exploits  of  heroism  which  can  never  be 
celebrated  with  due  praise.  For  such  reasons, 
Philip  chooses  for  his  allies,  Thebes,  Argos,  and 
Messene,  rather  than  Athens  and  Sparta.  The 
former  states  possess  not  greater  strength, 
wealth,  fleets,  harbours,  and  armies ; they  have 
not  more  power , but  less  virtue.  Nor  can  Philip 
plead  the  merits  of  their  cause;  since,  if  Chae- 
ronaea  and  Orchomenus  are  justly  subject  to 
Thebes,  Argos  and  Messene  are  justly  subject 
to  Lacedaemon;  nor  could  it  be  equitable  to 
enslave  the  inferior  cities  of  Boeotia,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  teach  those  of  Peloponnesus  to 
rebel. 

“ But  Philip  was  compelled  to  this  conduct 
(for  this  is  the  only  remaining  argument  that 
can  be  alleged  in  his  defence.)  ‘ Surrounded 
by  the  Thessalian  cavalry  and  Theban  infantry, 
he  was  obliged  to  assist  allies  whom  he  dis- 
trusted, and  to  concur  w’ith  measures  which  he 
disapproved.  Hence  the  severe  treatment  of 
Phocis,  hence  the  cruel  servitude  of  Orchomenus 
and  Chaeronaea.  The  king  of  Macedon,  being 
now  at  liberty  to  consult  the  dictates  of  his  ow  n 
humanity  and  justice,  is  desirous  to  re-establish 
the  republic  of  Phocis ; and,  in  order  to  bridle 
the  insolence  of  Thebes,  actually  meditates  the 
fortifying  of  Elataea.’  This,  indeed,  he  medi- 
tates, and  will  meditate  long.  But  he  does  not 
meditate  the  destruction  of  Lacedaemon.  For 
this  purpose  he  has  remitted  money,  he  has 
sent  his  mercenaries,  he  is  prepared,  himself,  to 
march  at  the  head  of  a powerful  army.  His 
present  transactions  sufficiently  explain  the  mo- 
tives of  his  past  conduct.  It  is  evident  that  he 
acts  from  system,  and  that  his  principal  batteries 
are  erected  against  Athens  itself.  How  can  it 
be  otherwise  ? He  is  ambitious  to  rule  Greece  ; 
you  alone  are  capable  to  thwart  his  measures. 
He  has  long  treated  you  unworthily;  and  he  is 
conscious  of  his  injustice.  He  is  actually  con- 
triving your  destruction,  and  he  is  sensible  that 
you  see  through  his  designs.  For  all  these  rea- 
sons he  knowrs  that  you  detest  him,  and  that 
should  he  not  anticipate  your  hostility,  he  must 
fall  a victim  to  your  just  vengeance.  Hence  he 
is  ever  active  and  alert,  watching  a favourable 
moment  of  assault,  and  practising  on  the  stupi- 
dity and  selfishness  of  the  Thebans  and  Pelo- 
ponnesians; for  if  they  were  not  stupid  and 
blind,  they  might  perceive  the  fatal  aim  of  the 
Macedonian  policy.  I once  spoke'3  on  this  sub- 
ject before  the  Messenians  and  Argives;  my 
discourse,  which  was  useless  to  them,  may, 
perhaps,  not  unseasonably  be  repeated  to  you. 
“Men  of  Argos  and  Messen4  ! you  remember 
the  time  when  Philip  caressed  the  Olynthians, 
as  he  now  does  you  : how  highly,  do  you  think, 
that  infatuated  people  would  have  been  offend- 


5 Plut.  in  Vit  Demosth.  in  lib.  de  dec.  Orator. 


6 During  his  embassy  to  Peloponnesus,  mentioned  above 


404 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


ed,  had  any  man  talked  against  the  benefactor, 
who  had  generously  bestowed  on  them  Anthe- 
mus  and  Potidcea?  Had  any  man  warned  them 
against  the  dangerous  artifices  of  Philip,  would 
they  have  listened  to  his  advice?  Yet,  after  en- 
joying for  a moment  the  territories  of  their 
neighbours,  they  were  for  ever  despoiled  of  their 
own.  Inglorious  was  their  fall;  not  conquered 
only,  but  betrayed  and  sold  by  one  another. 
Turn  your  eyes  to  the  Thessalians.  When  Phi- 
lip expelled  their  tyrants,  could  the  Thessalians 
ever  conjecture  that  the  same  prince  would  sub- 
ject them  to  the  creatures  of  Macedon,  still  more 
tyrannical  and  oppressive?  When  he  restored 
them  to  their  seat  and  suffrage  in  the  Amphic- 
tyonic  council,  could  they  have  been  persuaded 
that  he  would  one  day  deprive  them  of  the 
management  of  their  own  revenues?  As  to  you, 
Messenians  and  Argives!  you  have  beheld  Phi- 
lip smiling  and  deceiving;  but  beware!  pray  to 
heaven,  that  you  may  never  behold  him  insult- 
ing, threatening,  and  destroying.  Various  are 
the  contrivances  which  communities  have  dis- 
covered for  their  defence ; walls,  ramparts,  bat- 
tlements, all  of  which  are  raised  by  the  labour 
of  man,  and  supported  by  continual  expense 
and  toil.  But  there  is  one  common  bulwark, 
which  only  the  prudent  employ,  though  alike 
useful  to  all,  especially  to  free  cities  against 
tyrants.  What  is  that?  Distrust.  Of  this  be 
mindful ; to  this  adhere ; preserve  this  carefully, 
and  no  calamity  can  befall  you.”1 

Demosthenes  then  read  to  the  assembly  the 
schedule  of  an  answer,  which  he  advised  to  be 
given  to  the  ambassadors,  and  which  was  en- 
tirely favourable  to  the  LacedEemonians.  At 
the  same  time  he  exhorted  his  countrymen  to 
deliberate  with  firmness,  yet  with  temper,  on 
the  means  by  which  they  might  resist  the  com- 
mon enemy  ; u an  enemy  with  whom  he  had 
exhorted  them  to  maintain  peace,  as  long  as  that 
seemed  possible;  but  peace  was  no  longer  in 
their  power  ; Philip  gradually  carried  on  a vast 
system  of  hostile  ambition,  dismembering  their 
possessions,  debauching  their  allies,  paring  their 
dominions  all  around,  that  he  might  at  length 
attack  the  centre,  unguarded  and  defenceless.” 
Had  the  orator  stopped  here,  his  advice  might 
have  been  followed  with  some  useful  conse- 
quences. But  in  declaiming  against  the  en- 
croachments of  Macedon,  his  resentment  was 
naturally  inflamed  against  Philocrates.  Alschi- 
nes,  and  their  associates,  whose  perfidious  in- 
trigues and  machinations  had  produced  the 
public  danger  and  disgrace.  He  strongly  re- 
commended to  the  injured  people  to  impeach, 
condemn,  and  consign  to  due  punishment  those 
detestable  traitors.  This  counsel  was  not  given 
in  vain  to  the  litigious  Athenians,  who  were 
better  pleased  to  attend  the  courts  of  justice  at 
home,  than  to  march  into  the  Peloponnesus. 
The  city  resounded  with  the  noise  of  trials  and 
accusations.  Philocrates  was  banished,2  and 
iEschines  nearly  escaped  the  same  fate,  by  ex- 
posing the  profligate  life  of  his  accuser  Timar- 
chus.3 

Philip,  mean  while,  unopposed  and  unob- 


1 Demosthen.  Orat.  ii.  in  Philipp. 

2 ^Eschin.  in  Ctesiphon. 

3 Argum  in  A2schin.  Orat.  in  Timareh. 


[Chap. 

| served  by  his  enemies,  was  sailing  with  a power- 
ful armament  towards  Cape  Tenarus,  the  most 
southern  promontory  of  Laconia.  Having  land- 
ed there  without  opposition,  he  was  joined  by 
the  Messenians,  Arcadians,  and  Argives.  The 
united  army,  after  ravaging  the  most  valuable 
part  of  the  Lacedaemonian  territories,  besieged 
and  took  Trinasus,  a maritime  city  of  consi- 
derable strength  and  importance.  The  terror 
occasioned  among  the  Spartans  by  these  misfor- 
tunes, was  heightened  by  extraordinary  meteors 
in  the  air,  whose  unusual  redness  seemed  to 
presage  some  dreadful  calamity.4  The  alarm 
was  so  general,  that  it  has  been  thought  worth 
while  to  record  the  saying  of  a Spartan  youth, 
who  remained  unmoved  amidst  the  public  con- 
sternation. Being  asked,  “ Whether  he  was 
not  afraid  of  Philip  ?”  “ Why,”  replied  the 
generous  youth,  “ should  I fear  him?  he  cannot 
hinder  me  from  dying  for  my  country.”5  But 
this  manly  resolution  no  longer  animated  the 
great  body  of  the  Spartan  nation.  Unable  to 
meet  the  invader  in  the  field,  they  sent  Agis, 
the  son  of  king  Archidamus,  to  propose  terms 
of  accommodation,  or  rather  to  submit  their 
whole  fortune  to  the  disposal  of  the  Macedo- 
nians. The  young  prince  coming  alone  and  un- 
attended, Philip  expressed  his  surprise.  “What, 
have  the  Spartans  sent  but  one !”  u A*u  I not 
sent  to  one?”  wras  the  manly  reply  of  Agis.6 
This  was  the  expiring  voice  of  Spartan  pride; 
for  the  king  of  Macedon,  though  unwilling  to 
provoke  the  despair  of  a people,  whose  degene- 
rate virtue  might  yet  be  animated  by  the  insti- 
tutions of  Lycurgus  and  the  example  of  Leoni- 
das, compelled  them  to  resign  their  pretended 
authority  over  Argos,  Messene,  and  Arcadia ; 
and  settled  the  boundaries  of  those  republics  in 
a manner  highly  agreeable  to  the  wishes  of  his 
confederates.  Before  leaving  the  Peloponne- 
sus, he  solemnly  renewed  his  engagements  to 
protect  them  ; and,  in  return,  only  required,  on 
their  part,  that  the  magistracy  in  Argos  should 
be  entrusted  to  Myrtis,  Teledamus,  and  Mna- 
sias;  in  Arcadia,  to  Cercidas,  Hieronymus,  and 
Eucampidas ; in  Messene,  to  Neon  and  Thra- 
sylochus,  the  sons  of  Iphiades ; men  whose 
names  would  merit  eternal  oblivion,  if  Demos- 
thenes had  not  justly  branded  them  as  traitors;7 8 
but  a more  impartial,  and  not  less  judicious 
writer,6  that  by  early  espousing  the  interest  of 
Philip,  they  acquired  many  important  advan- 
tages for  their  respective  communities ; that 
their  sagacity  having  foreseen  the  final  preva- 
lence of  the  Macedonian  power  and  policy  over 
the  weakness  and  folly  of  Greece,  they  acted 
wisely  in  courting  the  rising  fortune  of  a prince, 
who  was,  at  length,  enabled  to  take  complete 
vengeance  on  his  enemies  ; a vengeance,  which 
the  Peloponnesians  escaped  by  their  own  pru- 
dence and  foresight,  and  from  which  the  Athe- 
nians, after  long  provoking  it,  were  finally  de- 


4 Plin.  Hist.  Nat.  1.  ii.  c.  xxxvi. 

5 Frontin.  I.  iv.  c.  v. 

6 Plut.  Apophth. 

7 Tlxgx  yxg  to»{  EX.Xi)y»v,  o<j  Tin,  *XX*  irxnv  e/ue<w;, 

Cogxv  srgoioTuiv  xxi  S-jigtSoxair  xxi  •J’ioj;  xvig*iruvy 

o vve3>i  yivt rixt,  orrv  o srforifov  gufivxrxt  yi- 
yoruixv.  These  traitors  are  named  in  Philipp,  iii.  et  in 
Orat.  de  Corona. 

8 Pol  b.  iii.  72. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


405 


XXXVI.] 

livered  by  the  love  of  glory  and  magnanimity, 
which  regulated  the  conduct,  and  adorned  the 
victory,  of  Philip. 

Having  settled  the  affairs  of  Peloponnesus, 
the  king  of  Macedon  marched  through  that 
country  amidst  the  acclamations  of  the  people, 
who  vidd  with  each  other  in  bestowing  crowns 
and  statues,  the  usual  marks  of  public  grati- 
tude and  admiration,  on  a prince  who  had 
generously  rescued  them  from  the  cruel  yoke  of 
Sparta.  At  Corinth  he  passed  some  days  in 
the  house  of  Demaratus,  a man  totally  devoted 
to  his  service ; and  assisted  at  the  games  and 
spectacles,  which  were  celebrated  in  that  city, 
by  an  immense  concourse  of  people  from  the 
neighbouring  republics.  The  turbulent  Co- 
rinthians, who,  besides  their  innate  hatred  of 
kings,  had  particular  causes  of  animosity  against 
Philip,  did  not  conceal  their  sentiments;  and 
their  inhospitable  insolence  was  abetted  by 
many  Peloponnesians,  who  profited  of  the 
liberty  of  the  place,  and  of  the  occasion,  to  tes- 
tify their  rooted  aversion  to  the  king  of  Mace- 
don, and  their  unwillingness  to  owe  their  free- 
dom and  their  safety  to  the  interposition  of  a 
foreign  tyrant.  Philip  was  strongly  urged  by 
his  courtiers  to  punish  their  ingratitude ; but  he 
knew  how  to  digest  an  affront, 9 when  forgive- 
ness was  more  useful  than  vengeance  ; and  re- 
pressed the  unseasonable  indignation  of  his 
attendants,  by  observing,  with  admirable  pa- 
tience, “ Were  I to  act  with  severity,  what  must 
I expect  from  men,  who  repay  even  kindness 
with  insult.”* 1*) 

Q,  Philip  proceeded  from  Corinth 

cjx^  j by  the  nearest  route  into  Macedon, 
A C 344  w^ere  he  continued  the  remainder 
of  that  year,  directing  the  improve- 
ments that  were  carrying  on  in  his  kingdom, 
and  inspecting  with  particular  care  the  educa- 
tion of  his  son  Alexander,  whose  capacious  and 
fervid  mind,  like  a rich  and  luxuriant  soil, 
producing  promiscuously  flowers  and  weeds, 
strongly  required  the  hands  of  early  culture.11 
But  these  useful  occupations  did  not  divert  his 
attention  from  the  politics  of  neighbouring 
states.  He  extended  the  boundaries  of  Epirus, 
then  governed  by  his  brother-in-law  Alexander, 
the  most  faithful  and  devoted  of  his  vassals,  by 
adding  to  that  little  principality  the  province 
of  Cassiopoea,  which  was  chiefly  inhabited  by 
Elian  colonies.  At  the  same  time  he  exercised 
his  fleet  by  wresting  Halonnesus,  an  island 
near  the  coast  of  Thessaly,  from  the  hands  of 
corsairs,  and  kept  possession  of  his  conquest, 
without  paying  any  regard  to  the  claim  of  the 
Athenians,  the  ancient  and  lawful  proprietors 
of  the  island.12 

Olvmn  Next  year  Philip  was  summoned 

cix^  2 *nto  UPPer  Thrace,  by  a rebellion 
A C 343  Petty  Princes  ln  that  coun- 

try, fomented  by  Amadocus  king 
of  the  Odrysians.  The  warlike  tribes  of  that 
great  nation,  acting  with  little  concert  or  union, 
were  successively  subdued  ; and  the  dexterity 


9 Longinus  has  preserved  the  expression  of  Theopompus, 

1 that  Philip  could  easily  swallow  affronts  ” 

10  Pint,  in  Alexand. 

11  Ihid. 

12  Demosthen.  Orat.  de  Halon. 


of  the  king  of  Macedon  seconding  his  usual 
good  fortune,  he  soon  ranked  the  most  obstinate 
of  his  enemies  in  the  number  of  his  vassals  or 
courtiers.13  At  his  return  from  the  inhospitable 
wilds  of  Thrace,  he  received  into  his  protec- 
tion the  city  and  republic  of  Cardia,  occupying 
the  neck  of  land  which  joins  the  Thracian 
Chersonesus  to  the  continent.  The  rest  of  the 
peninsula  had  long  been  subject  to  the  Athe- 
nians, whose  authority  the  citizens  of  Cardia 
always  set  at  defiance.  The  Athenians  had 
lately  strengthened  the  Chersonesites  by  a new 
colony,  which  had  continual  disputes  with  the 
Cardians  about  the  extent  of  their  boundaries. 
Matters  had  actually  come  to  a crisis,  and  the 
Cardians  were  ready  to  be  overwhelmed  by 
the  strength  and  numbers  of  the  enemy,  when 
they  were  seasonably  defended  by  the  Mace- 
donian arms.14 

The  seizing  of  Halonnesus,  the  conquering 
of  Grecian  colonies  for  the  tyrant  of  Epirus, 
above  all,  the  open  assistance  given  to  their  in- 
veterate enemies,  the  Cardians,  once  more 
roused  the  Athenians  from  their  lethargy. 
These  fresh  insults  brought  back  to  their  re- 
collection the  ancient  grounds  of  animosity, 
and  the  manifold  injuries  which  they  had  suf- 
fered since  the  conclusion  of  the  peace  with 
Macedon.  But  instead  of  opposing  Philip  with 
arms,  the  only  means  by  which  he  might  yet 
be  resisted  with  any  hope  of  success,  they  em- 
ployed the  impotent  defence  of  speeches,  reso- 
lutions, and  embassies.  Their  complaints  were 
loud  and  violent  in  every  country  of  Greece. 
They  called  the  attention  of  the  whole  confe- 
deracy to  the  formidable  encroachments  of  a 
Barbarian,  to  which  there  seemed  no  end  ; and 
exhorted  the  Greeks  to  unite  in  repressing  his 
insolent  usurpation.15 

Philip,  who  then  agitated  schemes  from  which 
he  wished  not  to  be  diverted  by  a war  with  the 
Athenians,  sent  proper  agents  throughout 
Greece,  to  counteract  the  inflammatory  re- 
monstrances of  that  people  ; and  despatched 
to  Athens  itself,  Python  of  Byzantium,  a man 
of  a daring  and  vigorous  mind  ; but  who  con- 
cealed, under  that  passionate  vehemence  of 
language  which  seems  to  arise  from  conviction 
and  sincerity,  a mercenary  spirit,  and  a perfi- 
dious heart.  Python  had  long  ago  sold  him- 
self, and,  as  far  as  depended  on  himself,  the  in- 
terest of  his  country,  to  the  king  of  Macedon, 
from  whom  he  now  conveyed  a letter  to  the 
senate  and  people  of  Athens,  written  with  that 
specious  moderation  and  artful  plausibility, 
which  Philip  knew  so  well  to  assume  in  all  his 
transactions.  “ He  offered  to  make  a present 
to  the  Athenians  of  the  island  of  Halonnesus, 
and  invited  them  to  join  with  him  in  purging 
the  sea  of  pirates : he  entreated  them  to  refer 
to  impartial  arbitrators  all  the  differences  that 
had  long  subsisted  between  the  two  nations, 
and  to  concert  amicably  together  such  commer- 
cial regulations  as  would  tend  greatly  to  the 
advantage  of  both.  He  denied  that  they  could 
produce  any  proof  of  that  duplicity  on  his  part, 


13  Dioclor.  1.  xvi.  p.  464. 

14  Dcmosth.  Orat.  de  Halon.  p.  34.  et  Plut.  in  Vit.  Eu 
men. 

15  Demosthen.  de  Cheroneso,  p.  35,  et  seq. 


406 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


of  which  they  so  loudly  complained.  That  for 
himse.i',  he.  was  ready  not  only  to  terminate  all 
disputes  with  them  by  a fair  arbitration,  but  to 
compel  the  Cardians  to  abide  by  the  award  ; 
and  he  concluded,  by  exhorting  them  to  distrust 
those  designing  and  turbulent  demagogues, 
whose  selfish  ambition  longed  to  embroil  the 
two  countries,  and  involve  them  in  the  horrors 
of  war.1 

The  subtle  artifices  of  Philip,  though  sup- 
ported on  this  occasion  by  the  impetuous  elo- 
quence of  Python,  were  overcome  by  Hegesip- 
pus  and  Demosthenes,  who  refuted  the  various 
articles  of  the  letter  with  great  strength  and 
perspicuity,  and  unveiled  the  injustice  of  Philip 
with  such  force  of  evidence,  that  the  Athenians 
resolved  upon  sending  a considerable  armament 
to  the  Chersonesus,  to  protect  their  subjects  in 
that  peninsula.2  Diopeithes,  who  commanded 
the  expedition,  was  a determined  enemy  to  the 
Macedonians,  and  a man  of  courage  and  en- 
terprise. Before  he  arrived  in  the  Chersonesus, 
Philip,  trusting  to  the  effect  of  his  letter  and 
intrigues,  had  returned  into  Upper  Thrace.  Dio- 
peithes availed  himself  of  this  opportunity  to 
act  with  vigour.  Having  provided  for  the  de- 
fence of  the  Athenian  settlements  in  Thrace, 
he  made  an  incursion  into  the  neighbouring 
country  ; stormed  the  Macedonian  settlements 
at  Crobyle  and  Tiristasis  ; and  having  carried 
off  many  prisoners,  and  a considerable  booty, 
lodged  them  in  the  safe  retreat  of  the  Cherso- 
nesus. On  this  emergency,  Amphilochus,  a 
Macedonian  of  rank,  was  sent  as  ambassador, 
to  treat  of  the  ransom  of  prisoners ; but  Dio- 
peithes, regardless  of  this  character,  ever  held 
sacred  in  Greece,  cast  him  in  prison,  the  more 
surely  to  widen  the  breach  between  Athens  and 
Macedon  ; and,  if  possible,  to  render  it  irrepa- 
rable. With  equal  severity  he  treated  a herald, 
whom  he  had  taken  in  his  late  excursion,  charg- 
ed with  letters  from  Philip  ; which  were  sent 
to  Athens,  and  read  in  full  assembly.3 

The  king  of  Macedon,  when  informed  of 
these  hostilities  and  insults,  gave  free  scope  to 
his  complaints  and  threats ; and  his  emissaries 
had  an  easier  game  at  Athens,  as  Diopeithes 
had  not  only  violated  the  peace  with  Macedon, 
but,  in  order  to  maintain  his  troops,  which 
were  very  sparingly  supplied  by  the  republic, 
levied  considerable  contributions  from  the 
Greek  settlements  in  Asia.  The  partisans  of 
Macedon  inveighed  against  this  commander  as 
a robber  and  pirate,  the  common  enemy  of 
Greeks  and  Barbarians ; Philip’s  letters  de- 
manded vengeance  from  the  justice  of  Athens  ; 
if  not,  he  would  be  his  own  avenger ; the  per- 
sonal enemies  of  Diopeithes  joined  in  the  out- 
cry, and  insisted,  that  such  a daring  offender 
ought  immediately  to  be  recalled,  and  punished 
for  his  misconduct. 

On  this  occasion  Demosthenes  undertook  to 
defend  the  accused  general,  whose  measures  he 
warmly  approved ; and  motives  of  private 
friendship  heightening  the  ardour  of  patriot- 
ism, render  his  discourse  on  the  affairs  of  the 


1 Demosthen.  seu  Hegesipp.  de  Halon.  p.  33,  et  seq. 

2 Ibid. 

3 Epistol.  Philipp,  et  Liban.  Argum.  in  Demosth.  Orat. 
de  Chersoneso. 


[Chap. 

Chersonesus  one  of)  the  most  animated  and  in- 
teresting of  his  productions.  The  impeach- 
ment of  Diopeithes  he  ascribes  entirely  to  ma- 
lice or  perfidy,  which  had  been  too  successfully 
employed  to  withdraw  the  attention  of  the 
Athenians  from  the  main  object  of  their  con- 
cern, the  continual  encroachments  of  Philip,  to 
unjust  complaints  and  calumnies  against  their 
fellow  citizens.  Diopeithes,  if  really  criminal, 
might  be  recalled,  and  punished  whenever  they 
thought  proper.  A simple  mandate  from  the 
republic  could,  at  any  time,  reduce  him  to  his 
duty.  But  Philip,  the  public  enemy,  who  was 
continually  infringing  the  peace,  who,  before 
the  expedition  of  Diopeithes,  had  oppressed  the 
Chersonesites,  had  stormed  Serrium  and  Do- 
riscus,  how  was  Philip  to  be  restrained,  unless 
they  repelled  force  by  force  ? Instead  of  recall- 
ing their  troops  from  the  Chersonesus  on  the  re- 
monstrance of  a crafty  tyrant,  who  would  not 
acknowledge  himself  at  war  with  them,  till  he 
assaulted  the  w’alls  of  Athens,  they  ought  to 
exert  their  utmost  ability  in  augmenting  the 
army  in  that  quarter.  Should  their  forces  be 
withdrawn,  Philip  would  wait  the  approach  of 
winter,  or  the  setting  in  of  the  Etesian  winds, 
to  fall  on  the  Chersonesus.  Will  it  then  be 
sufficient  to  accuse  Diopeithes  ? Or  will  this 
save  our  allies  ? u O,  but  we  will  sail  to  their 
relief.”4  But  if  the  winds  will  not  permit  you? 
Even  should  our  enemy  attack,  not  the  Cher- 
sonesus, but  Megara  or  Chalcis,  as  he  lately 
did  Oreum,  would  it  not  be  better  to  oppose 
him  in  Thrace,  than  to  carry  the  war  to  the 
frontiers  of  Attica?  The  exactions  demanded 
by  Diopeithes  from  the  Asiatic  Greeks  are  jus- 
tified by  the  example  of  all  his  predecessors, 
who,  according  to  the  strength  ofctheir  respect- 
ive armaments,  have  always  levied  proportional 
contributions  from  the  colonies  ; and  the  peo- 
ple who  grant  this  money,  whether  more  or 
less,  do  not  give  it  for  nothing.  It  is  the  price 
for  which  they  are  furnished  with  jconvoys  to 
protect  their  trading  vessels  from  rapine  and 
piracy.  If  Diopeithes  had  not  that  resource, 
how  could  he  subsist  his  troops,  he  who  receives 
nothing  from  you,  and  who  has  nothing  of  his 
own  ? From  the  skies  ? No  ; but  from  w hat  he 
can  collect,  and  beg,  and  borrow.  Who  does 
not  perceive  that  this  pretended  concern  for  the 
colonies,  in  men  who  have  no  concern  for  their 
country,  is  one  of  the  many  artifices  employed 
to  confine  and  fix  you  to  the  city,  while  the 
enemy  keeps  the  field,  and  manages  the  war 
at  pleasure  ? That  such  traitors  should  exist,  is 
less  surprising  than  that  you  should  patiently 
receive  from  them  such  counsels,  as  Philip  him- 
self would  dictate.  For  what  else  could  the 
king  of  Macedon,  who  understands  his  own 
interest  so  well,  advise,  but  that  you  should  re- 
main quietly  at  home,  decline  personal  service 
in  the  war,  deny  pay  to  your  soldiers,  revile 
and  insult  your  general  ? When  a man,  hired 
to  betray  you,  rises  up  in  the  assembly,  and  de- 
clares Chares  or  Diopeithes  to  be  the  cause  of 
your  calamities,  such  a hypocrite  is  heard  with 
satisfaction.  You  despise  the  voice  of  him, 
who,  animated  by  a sincere  love  for  his  coun- 


4 Demosthen.  Oral,  de  Chersoneso. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


407 


XXXVI.] 

try,  calls  out,  “ Be  not  deceived,  Athenians ! 
Philip  is  the  real  cause  of  all  your  misfortunes 
and  disgrace.”  The  disagreeable  truth  renders 
the  man  who  declares  it  odious  ; for  the  insi- 
dious discipline  of  certain  ministers  has  so 
changed  your  principles  and  characters,  that 
you  are  become  fierce  and  formidable  in  your 
courts  of  justice,  but  tame  and  contemptible  in 
the  field.  You  rejoice,  therefore,  to  hear  your 
distress  charged  on  those  whom  you  can  punish 
at  home ; but  are  unwilling  to  believe  that  it 
proceeds  from  a public  enemy,  whom  you  must 
oppose  with  arms  in  your  hands.  Yet,  Athe- 
nians, if  the  states  of  Greece  should  thus  call 
you  to  account  for  your  conduct:  ‘Men  of 
Athens,  you  are  continually  sending  embassies 
to  assure  us,  that  Philip  is  projecting  our  ruin, 
and  that  of  all  the  Greeks.  But  O,  most 
wretched  of  mankind  ! when  this  common  foe 
was  detained  six  months  abroad  by  sickness, 
the  severity  of  winter,  and  the  armies  of  his 
enemies,  did  you  profit  by  that  opportunity  to 
recover  your  lost  possessions?  Did  you  restore 
even  Eubcsa  to  liberty,  and  expel  those  troops 
and  tyrants  who  had  been  placed  there  in  am- 
bush, and  directly  opposite  to  Attica?  No.  You 
have  remained  insensible  to  your  wrongs,  and 
fully  convinced  us,  that  were  Philip  ten  times 
to  die,  it  would  not  inspire  you  with  the  least 
degree  of  vigour.  Why  then  these  embassies, 
these  accusations,  all  this  unnecessary  ferment!’ 
If  the  Greeks  should  ask  this,  what  could  we 
answer?  I know  not. 

“ There  are  men  who  think  to  perplex  a well- 
intentioned  speaker  by  asking,  What  ought  we 
to  do  ? My  answer  is  sincere,  None  of  those 
things  which  you  do  at  present.  I explain  my 
opinion  at  greater  length,  and  may  you  be  as 
ready  to  receive,  as  to  ask,  advice  ! First  of  all, 
you  must  hold  it  as  a matter  of  firm  belief,  that 
Philip  has  broken  the  peace,  and  is  at  war  with 
your  republic : that  he  is  an  enemy  to  your 
city,  to  the  ground  on  which  it  stands,  to  all 
those  who  inhabit  it,  and  not  least  to  such  as 
are  most  distinguished  by  his  favours.  The 
fate  of  Euthycrates  and  Lasthenes,5  citizens  of 
Olynthus,  may  teach  our  traitors  the  destruc- 
tion that  awaits  them,  after  they  have  surren- 
dered their  country.  But,  though  an  enemy  to 
your  city,  your  soil,  and  your  people,  Philip  is 
chiefly  hostile  to  your  government,  which, 
though  ill  fitted  to  acquire,  or  to  maintain,  do- 
minion over  others,  is  admirably  adapted  to  de- 
fend both  yourselves  and  them,  to  repel  usur- 
pation, and  to  humble  tyrants.  To  your  de- 
mocracy, therefore,  Philip  is  an  unrelenting 
foe,  a truth,  of  which  you  ought  to  be  deeply 
persuaded ; and  next,  that  wherever  you  repress 
his  encroachments,  you  act  for  the  safely  of 
Athens,  against  which,  chiefly,  all  his  batteries 
are  erected.  For  who  can  be  so  foolish  as  to 
believe,  that  the  cottages  of  Thrace  (Drongila, 
Cabyla,  and  Mastira,)  should  form  an  object 
worthy  of  his  ambition  ; that,  in  order  to  ac- 
quire them,  he  should  submit  to  toils  and  dan- 
gers ; that,  for  the  sake  of  the  rye  and  millet 
of  Thrace,  he  should  consent  to  spend  so  many 
months  amidst  winter  snows  and  tempests ; 


while,  at  the  same  time,  he  disregarded  the 
riches  and  splendour  of  Athens,  your  harbours, 
arsenals,  galleys,  mines,  and  revenues?  No, 
Athenians.  It  is  to  get  possession  of  Athens, 
that  he  makes  war  in  Thrace  and  elsewhere. 
What  then  ought  we  to  do?  Tear  ourselves 
from  our  indolence  ; not  only  support,  but  aug- 
ment, the  troops  which  are  on  foot;  that,  as 
Philip  has  an  army  ever  ready  to  attack  and 
conquer  the  Greeks,  you  also  may  be  ready  to 
succour  and  to  save  them.”6 7 

It  is  worthy  of  observation  (because  nothing 
betrays  more  evidently  the  tyrannical  spirit  of 
democracy,)  that  Demosthenes  does  not  propose 
the  war  in  form,  by  bringing  in  a written  bill 
or  decree,  to  be  approved  or  rejected  by  the 
votes  of  his  countrymen.  This  decree  must  have 
been  recorded  among  the  Athenian  archives ; 
and,  if  the  war  should  prove  unfortunate,  might 
be  produced  at  some  future  time  for  the  destruc- 
tion of  its  author,  whose  enemies  would  not 
fail  to  allege  this  instrument  as  a proof  that 
he  had  occaioned  the  rupture  with  Philip,  and 
all  the  calamities  consequent  on  that  measure. 
The  party  accused  would,  in  that  case,  vainly 
endeavour  to  shelter  himself  under  the  votes  of 
the  assembly,  since  an  ordinary  court  of  justice 
could  call  him  to  account  for  misleading  the 
people,'  and  punish  him  with  banishment  or 
death.  Demosthenes  artfully  glances  at  this 
disagreeable  subject : “ Rash,  impudent,  and 
audacious,  I neither  am,  Athenians,  nor  wish 
ever  to  become  ; yet  possess  more  true  fortitude 
than  the  boldest  of  your  demagogues,  who,  ca- 
priciously distributing  honours  and  largesses  on 
the  one  hand,  and  as  capriciously  impeaching, 
condemning,  and  confiscating  on  the  other, 
have,  in  either  case,  a sure  pledge  of  impunity 
in  the  flattery  and  artifices  by  which  they  have 
long  seduced  the  public.  The  courage  of  that 
minister  is  .put  to  an  easy  trial,  who  is  ever  rea- 
dy to  sacrifice  your  permanent  interest  to  your 
present  pleasure.  But  he  is  truly  courageous, 
who,  for  the  sake  of  your  safety  and  glory,  op- 
poses your  most  favourite  inclinations,  rouses 
you  from  your  dream  of  pleasure,  disdains  to 
flatter  you,  and  having  the  good  of  his  country 
ever  in  view,  assumes  that  post  in  the  adminis- 
tration in  which  fortune  often  prevails  over 
policy,  knowing  himself  responsible  for  the  is- 
sue. Such  a minister  am  I,  whose  unpopular 
counsels  tend  to  render,  not  myself,  but  my 
country  great.” 

The  arguments  and  remonstrances  of  Demos- 
thenes not  only  saved  Diopeithes,  but  animated 
the  Athenians  with  a degree  of  vigour8  which 
they  had  been  long  unaccustomed  to  exert.  A 
fleet  was  fitted  out  under  the  command  of  Cal- 
lias,  who  seized  all  Macedonian  ships  as  lawful 
prize,  and  made  a descent  on  the  coast  of  Thes- 
saly, after  plundering  the  harbours  in  the  Pelas- 
gic  gulf.  A considerable  body  of  forces  was 
sent  into  Acarnania  to  repel  the  incursions  of 
Philip,  assisted  by  his  kinsman  and  ally,  Alex- 
ander of  Epirus.  The  inhabitants  of  the  island 
of  Peperathus,  trusting  to  the  protection  of 


fi  Domosthen.  Orat.  de  Chersones.  p.  35,  et  scq. 

7 By  the  ?(*<?><  wagovo pay.  Vide  Demosthen.  deCoron. 
passim. 

8 Vid.  Epist.  Philip. 


5 See  above,  c.  xxxv. 


408 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Athens,  expelled  the  Macedonian  garrison  from 
Halonnesus.  Repeated  embassies  were  des- 
patched to  the  Peloponnesians  and  Eubceans, 
exhorting  them  to  throw  off  the  ignominious 
yoke  of  Macedon,  and  to  unite  with  their  Gre- 
cian brethren  against  the  public  enemy.  Philip 
was  not  unattentive  to  these  commotions,  but 
his  designs  against  the  valuable  cities  on  the 
Propontis  and  Thracian  Bosphorus1  being  ripe 
for  execution,  he  was  unwilling  to  allow  any 
secondary  consideration  to  divert  him  from  that 
important  enterprise. 

His  intrigues  and  bribery  had 
• ' gained  a considerable  party  in  By- 

A*C  342  zan^um’  at  head  of  which  was 
' ' ‘ the  perfidious  Python,  whose  vehe- 

ment eloquence  gave  him  great  influence  with 
the  multitude.  A conspiracy  was  formed  to 
surrender  one  of  the  gates  of  the  city;  the  Ma- 
cedonian army  of  thirty  thousand  men  hovered 
round;  but  the  design  was  suspected  or  dis- 
covered, and  Philip,  to  screen  his  partizans 
from  public  vengeance,  seasonably  withdrew  his 
army,  and  invested  the  neighbouring  city  of 
Perinthus.  The  news  of  these  transactions  not 
only  increased  the  activity  of  Athens,  but 
alarmed  Ochus  king  of  Persia,  who  being  no 
stranger  to  Philip’s  design  of  invading  his  do- 
minions, trembled  at  beholding  that  ambitious 
prince  gradually  approach  his  frontier.  To 
prevent  this  danger,  Ochus  adopted  the  same 
policy,  which,  in  similar  circumstances,  had 
been  successfully  employed  by  his  predeces- 
sors.2 The  Persian  gold  was  profusely  scatter- 
ed among  the  most  eminent  of  the  Grecian  de- 
magogues. Demosthenes,  whose  patriotism 
was  not  always  proof  against  an  unworthy  al- 
liance3 with  interest,  rejoiced  at  being  paid  for 
doing  what  he  considered  as  his  duty.  At 
Athens  his  invectives  were  louder  than  ever 
against  the  king  of  Macedon ; and  the  affairs  of 
Euboea  gave  him  an  opportunity  of  exerting 
himself  with  equal  zeal  in  that  island. 

The  factious  spirit  of  the  Eubceans  rendered 
them  alike  incapable  of  independence,  and  of 
remaining  quietly  under  the  government  either 
of  Athens  or  Macedon,  to  which  they  were  al- 
ternately subject.  The  recent  prevalence  of  the 
Macedonian  party  had  been  marked  by  many 
acts  of  violence  and  oppression.  The  cities  of 
Chalcis,  Oreurn,  and  Eretria,  prepared  to  rebel, 
having  previously  solicited  assistance  from  Pe- 
loponnesus, Acarnania,  Attica,  and  every  pro- 
vince of  Greece,  which  they  had  any  reason  to 
deem  favourable  to  their  views.  From  other 
states  they  brought  back  promises  and  hopes ; 
from  Athens  they  obtained,  chiefly  by  the  in- 
fluence of  Demosthenes,  a considerable  body  of 
troops  commanded  by  the  brave  and  virtuous 
Phocion.  The  orator  accompanied  the  expedi- 
tion ; and  being  allowed  to  address  the  popular 
assemblies  in  most  of  the  cities  of  Euboea,  he 
inflamed  them  with  such  animosity  against 
Philip  and  his  partisans,  that  little  remained  to 
be  done  by  the  valour  of  the  Athenian  general. 
The  Eubceans  every  where  took  arms  in  de- 
fence of  their  freedom,  the  Macedonian  garri- 


[Chaf. 

I sons  were  expelled  from  the  principal  cities,  and 
| driven  from  one  post  to  another,  till  they  were 
1 compelled  entirely  to  evacuate  the  island.  This 
event  occasioned  great  joy  at  Athens  ; and  the 
; principal  merit  was  ascribed  to  Demosthenes, 

' who,  at  the  motion  of  Aristonicus,  a man  of 
merit  and  eminence,  was  crowned  by  the  senate 
and  people  with  a golden  crown ; which  ho- 
j nour  was  publicly  proclaimed  in  the  theatre  of 
1 Bacchus,  during  the  representations  of  the  new 
tragedies,  amidst  an  immense  concourse  of  peo- 
ple, citizens  and  strangers.4 
j q.  The  loss  of  Euboea  was  ill  corn- 

ed ^ pensated  to  Philip  by  the  military 
^ operations  against  Perinthus,  in 

which  he  found  an  enemy  worthy 
of  his  courage  and  perseverance.  The  town 
was  situated  on  the  sloping  ridge  of  an  isthmus, 
and  strongly  fortified  both  by  art  and  nature, 
the  houses  and  streets  rising  one  above  another 
like  the  seats  of  an  amphitheatre,  so  that  the 
higher  edifices  overlooked  and  defended  the 
lower.  Having  scoured  the  neighbouring  coun- 
try with  his  cavalry,  Philip  exhausted,  in  the 
siege  of  Perinthus,  all  the  military  skill  known 
to  the  ancients.  He  raised  towers^forty  cubits 
high,  which  enabled  his  men  to  fight  on  equal 
ground  with  the  besieged ; his  miners  were 
busy  at  the  foundation ; at  length  the  battering- 
rams  advanced  to  the  wall,  in  which  a consi- 
derable breach  was  made.  During  this  time, 
however,  the  townsmen  had  not  been  idle.  The 
superior  discharge  of  darts,  arrows,  and  every 
kind  of  missile  weapon  from  the  Macedonian 
towers,  had  indeed  dislodged  the  Perinthians 
from  those  parts  of  the  wall  and  battlements, 
against  which  the  principal  attack  had  been  di- 
rected. But  with  incessant  toil,  the  besieged 
built  a new  wall  within  the  former,  on  which 
they  appeared  in  battle  array,  prepared  to  repel 
the  enemy  who  entered  the  breaches.5  The 
Macedonians,  who  advanced  with  impetuous 
joy  to  reap  the  fruits  of  their  labour,  were  infi- 
nitely mortified  to  find  that  their  work  must  be 
begun  anew.  Philip  employed  rewards  and 
punishments,  and  all  the  resources  of  his  mind 
fertile  in  expedients,  to  restore  their  hopes,  and 
to  reanimate  their  activity.  The  siege  recom- 
menced with  fresh  ardour,  and  the  Perinthians 
were  twice  reduced  to  extremity,  when  they 
were  unexpectedly  saved,  first  by  a large  supply 
of  arms  and  provisions  from  Byzantium,  next 
by  a strong  reinforcement  of  men  in  Persian 
pay,  commanded  by  Apollodorus,  a citizen  of 
Athens  ; and  lastly  by  the  advantageous  situa- 
tion of  the  town,  which,  being  built  in  a conical 
form,  presenting  its  apex  or  narrow  point  to  the 
besiegers,  gradually  rose  and  widened  towards 
the  remoter  parts,  from  which  it  was  easy  to 
observe  all  the  motions  of  the  enemy,  and  to 
overwhelm  them  with  missile  weapons  as  they 
advanced  to  the  charge.  Philip,  ever  sparing 
of  the  lives  of  his  men,  was  deterred  by  this 
circumstance  from  venturing  an  assault,  though 
his  machines  had  effected  a breach  in  the  new 
wall : he  therefore  determined  to  change  the 
siege  into  a blockade.  Perinthus  was  shut  up 


1 Demosthen.  de  Coron.  et  Diodor.  1.  xvi.  c.  xxii. 

2 Plat,  in  Alex.  3 Plut.  in  Demosth. 


I 


4 Demosthen.  de  Coron.  et  Pint-  in  Demosth. 

5 Diodor.  p.  466,  et  se«j. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


409 


XXXVI.J 

as  closely  as  possible  by  sea  and  land : part  of 
the  Macedonian  troops  who  had  become  muti- 
nous for  want  of  pay  (for  Philip  at  this  time 
owed  above  two  hundred  talents,  or  forty  thou- 
sand pounds  sterling,)  were  indulged  in  plun- 
dering the  rich  territory  of  Byzantium,  while 
the  remainder  were  conducted  to  the  siege  of 
Selymbria,  and  soon  after  of  Byzantium  itself, 
the  taking  of  which  places,  it  was  hoped,  might 
compensate  their  lost  labour  at  Perinthus.6 

During  the  military  operations  against  the 
cities  of  the  Propontis,  Demosthenes  did  not 
cease  exhorting  his  countrymen  to  undertake 
their  defence,  as  essential  to  their  own  safety. 
The  hostilities  and  devastations  of  Philip,  he 
represented  as  the  periodical  returns  of  the  pes- 
tilence and  other  contagious  disorders,  in  which 
all  men  were  alike  threatened  with  their  respec- 
tive shares  of  calamity.  He,  who  was  actually 
sound  and  untainted,  had  an  equal  interest  with 
the  diseased  and  infirm,  to  root  out  the  common 
evil,  which,  if  allowed  to  lurk  in  any  part, 
would  speedily  pervade  and  afflict  the  whole. 
The  Macedonians  now  besieged  Selymbria  and 
Byzantium;  if  successful  in  these  enterprises, 
they  would  soon  appear  before  Sparta,  Thebes, 
and  Athens.  Yet  he  knew  not  by  what  fatality 
the  Greeks  looked  on  the  successive  encroach- 
ments of  Philip,  not  as  events  which  their  vi- 
gorous and  united  opposition  might  ward  off 
and  repel,  but  as  disasters  inflicted  by  the  hand 
of  Providence  ; as  a tempestuous  cloud  of  hail, 
so  destructive  to  the  vines  in  autumn,  which  all 
beheld,  with  horror,  hovering  over  them,  but 
none  took  any  other  means  to  prevent,  than  by 
deprecating  the  gods  that  it  might  not  fall  on 
his  own  fields.7  These  animated  and  just  re- 
presentations of  the  common  distress  or  danger, 
engaged  the  Athenians  to  enter  into  a close  cor- 
respondence with  the  besieged  cities.8  Demos- 
thenes undertook  a journey  to  Byzantium;  and 
Leori,  a Byzantine  orator  and  patriot,  the  friend 
and  fellow  student  of  the  virtuous  Phocion,  re- 
sided as  ambassador  in  Athens.  At  the  same 
time  the  principal  cities  of  the  Propontis,  main- 
tained an  uninterrupted  intercourse  of  good  of- 
fices with  each  other,  as  well  as  with  their  allies 
of  Rhodes  and  Chios,  from  whom  they  received 
repeated  supplies  of  arms  and  provisions. 

Philip,  mean  while,  ceased  not  to  assure  the 
Athenians,  by  his  letters  and  emissaries,  that  he 
was  extremely  desirous  of  maintaining  peace 
with  the  republic,  and  gently  chid  them  for 
their  evident  marks  of  partiality  towards  his 
enemies,  which,  however,  he  took  care  to  as- 
cribe, not  to  the  general  temper  and  disposition 
of  the  people,  but  to  the  prevalence  of  a dan- 
gerous faction,  inflamed  by  seditious  and  selfish 
demagogues.  By  a rapid  march  he  had  recent- 
ly surprised  an  Athenian  detachment  ravaging 
the  territory  of  Cardia.  Di'opeithes,  the  Athenian 


6 Diodor.  I.  xvi.  c.  xxii. 

7 AXX*  o/x-oq  t*ot’  ogjivTi;  o*  ‘E^Xuvs;  am%ovrar  xs ti 
rov  avrov  TfSjrov,  o vnif  oi  tv\ v yxKx^xv,  tyoiyi  Xoxovt ri 
SfcofEiv  iu%OjM(iioi  w xxS  sxutous  exxttoi  y e ve ir3 xi  f xviKue iv 
St  ovXsis  t7r‘xs,e"v'  Deinosthen.  in  Philip,  iii.  p.  48.  In 
the  country  where  I now  write  (the  Pais  de  Valid)  the 
beauty  and  force  of  this  comparison  is  too  well  understood. 
Lofty  mountains  covered  with  snow,  sunny  hills,  and  fertile 
valleys — Such  too  is  the  geography  of  Greece,  which  ren- 
dered the  hail-storms  so  alarming  and  so  destructive. 

8 Demosthen.  de  Corona. 

3 F 


general  in  the  Chersonesus,  commanded  this 
predatory  band,  who,  after  a slight  skirmish, 
were  repelled  with  the  loss  of  their  leader,  slain 
by  a dart,  while  he  rallied  his  men  with  his 
voice  and  arm.  Philip  failed  not,  by  letter,  to 
excuse  this  act  of  hostility,  to  which,  he  assur- 
ed the  Athenians,  that  he  had  been  compelled, 
much  against  his  inclination : he  affected  to 
consider  Diopeithes  as  the  instrument  of  a ma- 
lignant faction,  headed  by  Demosthenes,  rather 
than  as  the  general  of  the  republic ; and  as  that 
commander  had  acted  unwarrantably  in  plun- 
dering the  Cardians,  a people  strictly  allied 
with  Macedon,  Philip  assured  himself  that  the 
senate  and  people  would  not  take  it  amiss  that, 
provoked  by  repeated  injuries,  he  had  at  length 
repelled  violence,  and  defended  the  lives  and 
fortunes  of  his  long-injured  confederates. 

While  the  Athenians  and  Philip  were  on  this 
footing  of  correspondence,  the  former  sent 
twenty  vessels  laden  with  com  to  the  relief  of 
the  Selymbrians.  Leodamas,  who  commanded 
this  convoy,  seems  to  have  imagined  that  the 
treaty  formerly  subsisting  between  the  two 
powers,  would  protect  him  from  injury.  But 
in  this  he  was  disappointed.  His  fleet  was  sur- 
rounded and  taken  by  Amyntas,  who  command- 
ed the  naval  force  of  Macedon,  and  who  deter- 
mined to  retain  his  prize,  without  paying  any 
regard  to  the  complaints  and  remonstrances  of 
Leodamas,  who  pretended  that  the  convoy  was 
not  destined  for  Selymbria,  but  employed  in 
conveying  the  superabundance  of  the  fertile 
Chersonesus  to  the  rocky  and  barren  island  of 
Lemnos. 

Ql  The  news  of  the  capture  of  their 

ci/7*  ships  occasioned  much  tumult  and 
A C *341  uneasiness  among  the  Athenians. 

After  frequent  deliberations  on  this 
subject,  a decree  was  framed  for  sending  am- 
bassadors to  Philip,  in  order  to  re-demand  their 
property,  and  to  require  that  Amyntas,  if  he 
had  exceeded  his  instructions,  should  be  pu- 
nished with  due  severity.  Cephisophon,  De- 
mocritus, and  Polycrates,  who  were  named  for 
this  commission,  repaired  without  delay  to  Phi- 
lip in  the  Hellespont,  who,  at  their  request,  im- 
mediately released  the  captured  vessels,  and 
dismissed  the  Athenians  with  the  following 
letter  ; 44  Philip  king  of  Macedon,  to  the  senate 
and  people  of  Athens,  Health.  I have  received 
three  of  your  citizens  in  quality  of  ambassadors, 
who  have  conferred  with  me  about  the  release 
of  certain  ships,  commanded  by  Leodamas.  I 
cannot  but  admire  their  simplicity  in  thinking 
to  persuade  me  that  these  ships  were  intended 
to  convey  corn  from  the  Chersonesus  to  the  isle 
of  Lemnos,  and  not  destined  for  the  relief  of 
the  Selymbrians,  actually  besieged  by  me,  and 
nowise  included  in  the  treaty  of  pacification 
between  Athens  and  Macedon.  This  unjust 
commission  Leodamas  received,  not  from  the 
people  of  Athens,  but  from  certain  magistrates, 
and  others  now  in  private  stations,  who  are  too 
busy  in  urging  you  to  violate  your  engage- 
ments, and  to  commence  hostilities  against  me; 
a matter  which  they  have  more  at  heart  than 
the  relief  of  Selymbria,  fondly  imagining  that 
they  may  derive  advantage  from  such  a rup- 
ture. Deeply  persuaded  that  our  mutual  in- 


410 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


terest  requires  us  to  frustrate  their  wicked 
schemes,  I have  given  orders  to  release  the  cap- 
tured vessels ; and  do  you,  in  return,  remove 
such  pernicious  counsellors  from  the  adminis- 
tration of  your  affairs;  and  let  them  feel  the  se- 
verity of  your  justice.  On  my  part,  I shall  en- 
deavour to  preserve  inviolate  the  treaty,  by 
which  we  stand  mutually  engaged.”1 

The  moderate  and  friendly  sentiments  ex- 
pressed in  this  letter  afforded  great  advantage  to 
the  Macedonian  partisans  at  Athens.  But 
Demosthenes,  and  Leon  of  Byzantium,  spared 
no  pains  to  detect  and  expose  the  artifices  and 
duplicity  of  Philip,  who  employed  this  humble 
and  peaceful  tone,  during  his  operations  against 
the  cities  of  the  Propontis,  in  order  to  stifle  the 
resentment  of  the  Athenians,  at  a crisis  when 
they  might  act  against  him  with  peculiar  advan- 
tage. In  elaborate  and  powerful  orations,2  in 
which,  without  urging  any  new  matter,  De- 
mosthenes condensed,  invigorated,  and  enliv- 
ened his  former  observations  and  reasonings, 
he  convinced  his  countrymen  of  the  expe- 
diency of  being  for  once  before-hand  with 
their  enemy,  and  of  anticipating  his  designs 
against  themselves  by  a speedy  and  effectual  as- 
sistance to  their  distressed  brethren  of  Perin- 
thus,  Selymbria,  and  Byzantium.  By  his  con- 
vincing eloquence  the  public  councils  were  ani- 
mated with  a degree  of  energy  and  enthusiasm 
which  had  not  appeared  in  them  during  many 
years,  and  which  produced  the  last  transitory 
glimpse  of  success  and  splendour,  before  the 
glory  of  Athens  was  extinguished  for  ever. 
q.  It  was  decreed  by  the  senate  and 

people,  to  tit  out  a fleet  of  a hun- 

A C 340  an(*  tvvenly  galleys;  but  un- 

fortunately the  command  was  given 
to  Chares,  whose  character  rendered  him  as 
contemptible  to  the  enemies,  as  he  was  formi- 
dable to  the  allies,  of  the  republic.  The  By- 
zantines excluded  him  from  their  harbour,  and 
he  was  defeated  by  Amyntus,  the  Macedonian 
admiral,  off  the  opposite  shore  of  Chalcedon. 
This  disaster,  which  was  chiefly  occasioned  by 
the  incapacity  of  their  commander,  made  the 
Athenians  cast  their  eyes  on  Phocion,3  who, 
though  ever  ready  to  serve  his  country,  was 
most  frequently  called  for  in  times  of  danger 
and  calamity. 

Before  Phocion  reached  the  Propontis,  Philip, 
flushed  with  his  naval  success,  made  an  attempt 
to  storm  Byzantium.  The  city  was  environed 
on  three  sides  by  the  sea,  and  defended  on  the 
fourth  by  a strong  wall,  and  a large  and  deep 
trench,  covered  by  lofty  towers,  separated  at 
small  intervals  from  each  other.  Confident  in 
the  strength  of  the  place  and  the  abundance  of 
their  magazines,  the  inhabitants  of  Byzantium, 
without  risking  a sally,  allowed  Philip  to  carry 
on  his  works,  and  gradually  to  make  his  ap- 
proaches to  their  walls.  During  this  inaction 
of  the  townsmen,  Philip  carefully  advanced  his 
battering  engines,  and  seemed  determined  to 
assault  the  wall?  ; but,  mean  while,  embraced 
proper  measures  for  gaining  the  place  by  sur- 
prise. For  executing  this  design,  he  chose  the 


1 Epist.  Philip,  in  Demosth. 

2 Orat.  iv.  in  Philip,  et  Orat.  de  Epist.  Philip. 

3 Plutarch  in  Phocion. 


[Chap 

gloom  of  a tempestuous  night ; a determined 
band  of  Macedonians  passed  the  ditch ; the  scal- 
ing-ladders were  already  fixed  ; when  the  senti- 
nels of  Byzantium  were  alarmed  by  the  barking 
of  mastiffs,  kept  in  the  towers  even  in  time 
of  peace,  to  secure  them  in  the  night.  The 
alarm  spread  with  rapidity  among  the  several 
guards,  who  rushing  tumultuously  from  their 
respective  stations,  as  if  the  enemy  had  been 
already  masters  of  the  town,  were  on  the  point 
of  blindly  assaulting  each  other,  when  a bright 
meteor,  or  repeated  flashes  of  lightning,  enabled 
them  to  distinguish  their  friends,  and  to  discern 
the  danger.  Having  formed  in  some  degree  of 
order,  they  advanced  against  the  Macedonians, 
who  had  already  gained  the  rampart,  from 
which  they  were  with  difficulty  repulsed  by  su- 
perior numbers.4 

OlvmD  The  defeat  Ibis  bold  and  dan- 

cx  j gerous  enterprise  did  not  discourage 

A * C*  340  ^bilip  from  carrying  on  his  opera- 
tions with  indefatigable  diligence 
and  vigour.  His  perseverance  must  finally 
have  prevailed  over  the  obstinacy  of  the  be- 
sieged, had  not  the  Athenian  fleet,  under  Pho- 
cion, arrived  in  the  Thracian  Bosphorus.  The 
Byzantines  received  him  with  open  arms,  ex- 
pecting that  under  such  a commander,  their 
auxiliaries  would  prove  not  less  modest  and  in- 
offensive in  their  quarters,  than  active  and  in- 
trepid in  the  field.  Nor  were  their  hopes  dis- 
appointed ; the  arms  of  Philip  were  foiled  in 
every  rencounter  ; his  artifices  were  met  and 
eluded  by  similar  address  ; nor  could  he  expect 
by  force  or  fraud  to  gain  any  advantages  over  an 
opponent  alike  brave  and  vigilant.5  The  king 
of  Macedon,  who  had  as  much  flexibility  in 
varying  his  measures,  as  firmness  in  adhering  to 
his  purposes,  was  unwilling  any  farther  to  press 
his  bad  fortune.  In  the  actual  state  of  his 
affairs,  he  judged  it  necessary  to  raise  the  siege 
of  Byzantium,  to  withdraw  his  forces  from  Se- 
lymbria and  Perinthus,  and  to  leave  the  Athe- 
nians in  possession  of  the  northern  shore  of  the 
Propontis.  These  were  humiliating  resolutions ; 
but  fortunately  for  Philip,  an  event  fell  out, 
which  prevented  the  execution  of  them  from 
reflecting  much  discredit  on  his  arms  or  policy. 

Phocion,  to  whose  conduct  the  safety  of  so 
many  important  cities  was  principally  owing, 
sailed  from  Byzantium  amidst  the  grateful  vows 
and  acclamations  of  innumerable  spectators.  In 
his  voyage  to  the  Chersonesus,  he  captured  a 
fleet  of  victuallers  and  transports,  carrying  arms 
and  provisions  for  the  enemy.  When  he  ar- 
rived in  that  peninsula,  he  repressed  the  inso- 
lence of  the  Cardians,  who,  reinforced  by  a Ma- 
cedonian garrison,  had  recently  undertaken  ah 
expedition  against  the  city  of  Sestos.  He  re- 
covered several  places  on  the  coast  of  Thrace, 
which  had  reluctantly  submitted  to  the  domi- 
nion of  the  Macedonians  ; and,  in  concert  with 
the  inhabitants,  took  such  measures  as  seemed 
most  proper  to  protect  the  Athenian  allies  in 
those  parts,  from  future  danger.  Instead  of 
burdening  the  confederates  with  the  mainte- 
nance of  his  army,  he  plentifully  supplied  all 
the  wants  of  his  soldiers  from  the  enemy’s  coun- 


4 Diodor.  1.  xvi.  p.  468. 

5 Plut.  in  Phocion. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


XXXVI.] 

try.  He  commanded  in  person  the  parties  that 
went  out  to  forage  and  to  plunder  ; and  in  one 
of  th->se  expeditions,  received  a dangerous 
wound,  yet  did  not  embark  for  his  return,  until 
he  had  spread  the  terror  of  the  Athenian  name, 
by  ravaging  with  fire  and  siyord  the  hereditary 
dominions  of  Philip.6 

The  meritorious  services  of  Phocion  were 
deeply  felt  and  acknowledged  by  the  communi- 
ties whom  he  had  protected  and  relieved.7  The 
deliverance  and  gratitude  of  the  Chersonesus,  of 
Perinthus,  and  of  Byzantium,  were  testified  by 
crowns,  statues,  inscriptions,  and  altars ; and 
are  still  recorded  in  an  oration  of  Demosthenes, 8 
which  has  deservedly  survived  those  perishing 
monuments  of  gold  and  marble.  The  decree  of 
the  Byzantines  and  Perinthians,  after  describ- 
ing the  ancient  and  recent  benefits  of  Athens 
towards  them, enacted,  “that,  in  return  for  those 
favours,  the  Athenians  should  be  entitled  to  the 
right  of  intermarriage,  the  privilege  of  purchas- 
ing lands  in  their  territories,  the  freedom  of 
their  respective  cities,  and  the  first  and  most 
honourable  place  in  all  their  entertainments  and 
assemblies : that  whatever  Athenians  chose  to 
reside  with  them  should  be  exempted  from  all 
taxes : And  that,  further,  three  statues,  each 
sixteen  cubits  high, should  be  erected  in  the  port 
of  Byzantium,  representing  the  republic  of 
Athens,  crowned  by  the  Byzantines  and  Perin- 
thians: That  this  crown  should  be  proclaimed 
at  the  four  principal  festivals  of  Greece,  in  order 
to  commemorate  the  magnanimity  of  Athens, 
and  the  gratitude  of  the  Byzantines  and  Perin- 
thians.” The  inhabitants  of  the  Chersonesus 
were  not  less  forward  in  their  acknowledgments 
and  rewards.  After  a similar  preamble,  setting 
forth  the  manifold  favours  of  their  great  and 
generous  allies,  they  resolved  to  crown  the  se- 
nate and  people  of  Athens  with  a golden  crown 
worth  sixty  talents;  and  to  consecrate  an  altar 
to  Gratitude  and  the  Athenians.  These  public 
and  solemn  honours  afforded  matter  of  equal 
triumph  to  Phocion,  who  had  executed,  and  to 
Demosthenes,  who  had  advised  the  measures, 
in  consequence  of  which  such  just  glory  had 
been  acquired.  At  the  distance  of  several  years, 
the  orator  still  boasted  of  this  important  service. 
“You  have  frequently,  Athenians!  rewarded 
with  crowns  the  statesmen  most  successful  in 
conducting  your  affairs.  But  name,  if  you 
can,  any  other  counsellor,  any  other  statesman, 
by  whose  means  the  state  itself  hath  been  thus 
honoured. ”9 

The  circumstance  which  enabled  Philip  to 
elude  the  violence  of  the  storm  with  which  the 
hostility  of  Athens,  Persia,  and  so  many  other 
powers,  had  been  long  preparing  to  overwhelm 
him,  took  its  rise  from  an  error  of  judgment, 
occasioned  by  that  boundless  ambition  which 
formed  the  ruling  passion  of  the  Macedonian 
prince.  Beyond  the  confines  of  Thrace,  and 
beyond  the  northern  frontier  of  the  Lower 
Moesia,  dwelt  a powerful  Scythian  tribe,  in  the 
valuable  peninsula  contained  between  the  west- 
ern waves  of  the  Euxine  and  the  majestic  stream 
of  the  Danube.  The  roving  and  unsettled  life 


8 Plut.  in  Phocion.  and  Diodor,  ubi  supra. 
8 Deraoslhen.  de  Corona. 


411 

of  the  Scythians,  like  that  of  their  descendants 
the  Tartars,  had  led  them  into  this  country, 
from  their  native  and  proper  territories, embrac- 
ing the  six  mouths  of  the  Danube  or  Ister,  the 
banks  of  the  Boristhenes,  and  the  shores  of  the 
Palus  Mceotis,  which  districts  in  ancient  times 
had  the  name  of  Little  Scythia,10  and  are  still 
called  Little  Tartary.* 11  A monarch  less  warlike 
and  less  ambitious  than  Philip,  might  have  ob- 
served, with  indignation  and  regret,  those  fierce 
and  rapacious  Barbarians,  extending  themselves 
beyond  their  natural  limits,  and  enjoying  an  es- 
tablishment on  the  south  of  the  Danube;  which 
great  river,  as  he  was  already  master  of  Thrace, 
and  counted  the  Triballi  of  Moesia  among  the 
number  of  his  tributaries,  Philip’s  proud  and 
usurping  fancy  had  already  grasped  as  the  fron- 
tier of  his  empire,  and  the  proper  line  of  sepa- 
ration between  barbarous  and  civilized  nations. 
It  was  not,  therefore,  without  such  excess  of 
joy  as  transported  him  beyond  the  bounds  of 
sound  policy,  that,  amidst  his  preparations 
against  the  cities  on  the  Propontis,  he  received 
an  invitation  from  Atheas,12  who  styled  himself 
king  of  the  Scythians,  to  march  to  his  assist- 
ance, and  to  defend  his  dominions,  consisting 
in  the  peninsula  above  mentioned,  against  an 
invasion  of  the  Istrians,  which  the  domestic 
forces  of  Atheas  were  totally  unable  to  resist. 
To  this  proposal  was  added  a condition  ex- 
tremely alluring  to  the  king  of  Macedon,  that 
if  his  auxiliary  arms  enabled  Atheas  to  van- 
quish and  expel  the  invaders,  Philip  should  be 
named  heir  to  the  kingdom  of  Scythia;  for,  ac- 
cording to  the  fashion  of  ancient  times,  Athea3 
dignified  with  the  name  of  kingdom,  a territory 
little  larger  than  the  principality  of  Wales. 

In  greedily  snatching  this  bait  laid  for  his  am- 
bition, Philip  was  not  enough  on  his  guard 
against  the  usual  perfidy  and  levity  of  Barba- 
rians ; nor  did  he  sufficiently  consider,  that  by 
sending  a powerful  detachment  into  Scythia, 
he  must  greatly  weaken  his  exertions  against 
the  cities  of  the  Propontis.  With  an  ardour 
and  alacrity  too  rapid  for  reflection,  he  eagerly 
closed  with  the  proposition  of  Atheas,  sent  a 
great  body  of  forces  to  the  north,  and  promised 
to  assist  them  in  person  at  the  head  of  his  whole 
army,  should  they  encounter  any  difficulty  in 
the  execution  of  their  purpose.  Mean  while 
the  warlike  chief  of  the  Istrians,  whose  courage 
alone  animated,  and  whose  conduct  rendered 
successful,  the  arms  of  his  followers,  was  cut 
off  by  sudden  death : the  dispirited  Istrians 
were  attacked,  defeated,  and  repelled ; and, 
without  the . assistance  of  Macedon,  Atheas 
once  more  regained  possession  of  his  king- 
dom. This  unexpected  revolution  served  to 
display  the  crafty  and  faithless  Barbarian  in  his 
genuine  deformity.  The  Macedonian  troops 
were  received  coldly,  treated  with  contempt, 
and  absolutely  denied  their  stipulated  pay  and 
subsistence.  Their  just  remonstrances  and  com- 
plaints Atheas  heard  with  scorn,  and  totally  dis- 
avowed the  propositions  and  promises  of  those 
who  styled  themselves  his  ambassadors;  ob- 
serving “ how  unlikely  it  was,  that  he  should 


10  Herodotus  nod  Strabo,  passim. 

11  Geograph.  D’Anvilie. 

12  Justin.  1.  ix.  c.  2. 


7 Ibid. 
9 Ibid. 


412 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


have  solicited  the  assistance  of  the  Macedo- 
nians, who,  brave  as  they  were,  could  fight  only 
with  men,  while  the  Scythians  could  combat 
cold  and  famine  ; and  that  it  would  have  been 
still  more  unnatural  to  appoint  Philip  his  suc- 
cessor, since  he  had  a son  of  his  own,  worthy 
to  inherit  his  crown  and  dignity.”1 

Upon  receiving  an  account  of  the  insolent 
behaviour  of  a prince,  who  had  so  recently  soli- 
cited his  alliance,  Philip,  while  still  busily,  but 
unsuccessfully,  employed  against  the  cities  of 
the  Propontis,  sent  an  embassy  to  Scythia,  re- 
quiring Atheas  to  satisfy  the  just  demands  of 
the  Macedonian  troops,  and  to  indemnify  him- 
self for  the  expense  incurred  in  his  defence. 
The  ambassadors  found  the  king  of  Scythia  in 
his  stable,  currying  his  horse.  When  they  tes- 
tified surprise  at  seeing  him  engaged  in  such 
an  occupation,  he  asked  them,  Whether  their 
master  did  not  often  employ  himself  in  the  same 
manner.'’  adding,  that  for  his  own  part,  in  time 
of  peace,  he  made  not  any  distinction  between 
himself  and  his  groom.  When  they  opened 
their  commission,  and  explained  the  demands 
of  Philip,  the  subtle  Barbarian  told  them,  that 
the  poverty  of  Scythia  could  not  furnish  a pre- 
sent becoming  the  greatness  of  their  master; 
and  that,  therefore,  it  seemed  more  eligible  to 
offer  nothing  at  all,  than  a present  totally  un- 
worthy of  his  acceptance.2 

This  evasive  and  mortifying  answer  being 
brought  to  the  king  of  Macedon  when  foiled 
and  harassed,  yet  not  disheartened,  by  his  un- 
prosperous  expedition  against  Byzantium,  fur- 
nished him  with  a very  honourable  pretence  for 
raising  the  siege  of  that  place,  and  conducting 
a powerful  army  into  Scythia,  that  he  might 
chastise  the  treacherous  ingratitude  of  a prince, 
who,  after  having  overreached  him  by  policy, 
now  mocked  him  with  insolence.  Having  ad- 
vanced to  the  frontier  of  Atheas’s  dominions, 
Philip  had  recourse  to  his  usual  arts,  and  sent 
a herald  with  the  ensigns  of  peace  and  friend- 
ship, to  announce  his  arrival  in  Scythia,  in  or- 
der to  perform  a solemn  vow  which  he  had 
made  during  the  siege  of  Byzantium,  to  erect  a 
brazen  statue  to  Hercules  on  the  banks  of  the 
Danube.  The  cunning  Atheas  was  not  the 
dupe  of  this  artifice,  which  he  knew  how  to  en- 
counter and  elude  with  similar  address.  With- 
out praising  or  blaming  the  pious  intention  of 
the  king,  he  coolly  desired  him  to  forward  the 
statue,  which  he  himself  would  take  care  to 
erect  in  the  appointed  place  ; that  should  it  be 
set  up  with  his  concurrence  and  direction,  it 
would  probably  be  allowed  to  stand  ; otherwise 
he  could  give  no  assurance  that  the  Scythians 
would  not  pull  it  down,  and  melt  it,  to  make 
points  for  their  weapons.3 

The  return  of  the  Macedonian  herald  gave 
the  signal  for  hostility.  Philip  entered  the 
country  with  fire  and  sword,  destroying  the  fo- 
rests and  pasturage,  and  seizing  the  slaves  and 
cattle,  which  formed  the  principal  wealth  of  the 
Scythians.  He  seems  to  have  employed  several 
weeks  in  an  expedition,  the  circumstances  of 
which,  were  they  essential  to  the  designs  of  this 
work,  could  not  be  related  with  any  fulness  or 


[Chap. 

accuracy.  Countries  in  a pastoral  state  are  but 
thinly  peopled;  and  Philip  was  obliged  to  divide 
his  forces,  in  order  to  vanquish  with  greater 
rapidity  the  wandering  hordes,  separated  from 
each  other  by  wide  intervals,  according  as  a 
forest,  a meadow,  or  a stream  of  fresh  water, 
obtained  their  preference,  and  fixed  their  tem- 
porary abode.  A party  of  Macedonian  soldiers 
beat  up  the  quarters  of  a numerous  and  warlike 
clan,  by  which  they  were  repelled,  with  the  loss 
of  several  slain  or  taken.  Among  the  latter 
was  Ismenias,  an  eminent  musician,  who  had 
been  invited  by  liberal  rewards  to  reside  at  the 
court  of  Philip,  after  being  long  admired  in 
Greece  for  his  performance  on  the  flute.  This 
distinguished  captive  was  sent  as  a present  to 
Atheas,  who  was  so  little  delighted  with  his  ac- 
complishment, that  having  heard  him  perform, 
he  acknowledged  the  neighing  of  his  horse  to 
be  to  his  ear  far  more  agreeable  music.  The 
skirmish  in  which  Ismenias  was  taken,  seems  to 
have  been  the  principal  advantage  obtained  by 
the  Barbarians,  whose  constitutional  courage, 
and  impetuous  ill-directed  fury,  was  every- 
where overcome  by  the  disciplined  valour  of 
the  Macedonian  phalanx.4 

Philip  reaped  such  fruits  from  his  expedi- 
tion as  might  be  expected  by  a victory  over  a 
people  who  had  no  king  but  their  general,  no 
god  but  their  sword, and  no  cities  but  the  ground 
on  which  they  occasionally  encamped  with  their 
herds  and  families.  The  spoil  consisted  in 
arms,  chariots,  twenty  thousand  robust  captives, 
a greater  number  of  mares,  destined  to  replen- 
ish the  studs  of  Pella.5  We  are  not  informed 
whether  Philip  erected  the  promised  statue  to 
the  great  founder  and  protector  of  his  family 
and  kingdom.  It  is  probable  that  he  imposed 
a tribute  on  the  Scythians,  as  a mark  of  their 
submission  and  dependence,  purposing  to  reduce 
them  more  thoroughly,  when  he  had  effected 
his  great  designs  in  Greece,  to  which  country 
the  silent  operation  of  his  intrigues  now  sum- 
moned his  return. 

But  while  he  marched  southward  at  the  head 
of  an  army  encumbered  with  baggage  and  spoil, 
a very  unexpected  event  threatened  to  blast  his 
laurels,  and  to  terminate  at  once  his  glory  and 
his  life.  Allured  by  the  hopes  of  sharing  the 
warlike  plunder  of  the  Scythians,  the  barbarous 
Triballi,  who  had  been  often  conquered,  but 
never  thoroughly  subdued,  beset  by  ambush, 
and  vigorously  assaulted,  the  Macedonians, 
entangled  amidst  the  intricate  windings  of  the 
mountains  of  Mcesia;  hoping  to  cut  off,  by  one 
slroke,  the  flower  of  a nation  whose  authority 
their  own  fierce  spirit  of  independence  had  very 
reluctantly  condescended  to  obey.  The  confu- 
sion and  the  danger  was  increased  by  a merce- 
nary band  of  Greeks,  who,  harassed  by  the 
fatigues  of  war  and  travelling,  always  clamor- 
ous for  pay,  which  was  very  irregularly  paid 
them,  and  perhaps  jealous  of  the  Macedonians, 
seized  the  present  opportunity  to  desert  the 
standard  of  Philip,  and  to  reinforce  the  arms  of 
the  Triballi.6 

The  king  of  Macedon,  too  prudent  to  under- 


1 Justin.  I Lx.  c.  2. 


2 Ibid. 


3 Ibid. 


4 Justin.  1.  ii.  c.  5. 

5 Compar.  Justin.  1.  ix.  c.  2.  et  Strabo,  p.  752. 

6 Justin.  1.  ix.  c.  3.  Plut.  in  Alexand. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


413 


XXXVI.] 


take  superfluous  danger,  never  acquired  by 
valour  what  might  be  obtained  by  stratagem ; 
but  when  a necessary  occasion  solicited  his 
courage  and  his  prowess,  he  knew  how  to  as- 
sume the  hero,  and  (if  we  may  transpose  an 
ancient  proverb)  “ to  eke  out  the  fox’s  with  the 
lion’s  skin.”7  The  urgency  of  the  present  emer- 
gence summoned  all  the  firmness  of  his  mind. 
With  his  voice  and  example  he  encouraged  the 
astonished  and  disheartened  Macedonians;  con- 
ducted his  faithful  guards  to  the  heat  of  the 
battle,  and  fought  with  unexampled  bravery, 
till  the  same  weapon  which  pierced  his  horse, 
laid  the  rider  senseless  on  the  ground.  The 
young  Alexander,  who  fought  near  him,  de- 
rived peculiar  glory  from  saving  the  life  of  his 
father,  whom  he  covered  with  his  shield,  and 
defended  by  his  sword,  until  his  attendants  con- 
veyed him  to  a place  of  safety;8  the  son  so 
worthily  succeeding  to  the  command,  that  the 
tumult  was  fortunately  appeased,  and  the  Bar- 
barians routed  and  put  to  flight.  Philip’s  wound 
was  attended  with  an  incurable  lameness, 
which  he  bore  with  much  impatience.  His 
magnanimous  son  endeavoured  to  remove  his 
anxiety  by  asking,  how  he  could  be  chagrined 
at  an  accident,  which  continually  reminded  him 
of  his  valour?9 


Olymp. 
cx.  2. 

A.  C.  339 


q.  To  repair  the  effects  of  this  un- 

cx  2 foreseen  delay,  the  Macedonians 

A C*  339  hastened  through  Thrace,  where 
Philip,  as  he  had  reason  to  expect, 
was  met  by  deputies  from  the  Amphictyonic 
council,  appointing  him  general  of  their  forces, 
ar  J requesting  him  to  march  into  Greece  with 
all  convenient  speed.  The  secret  practices  and 
intrigues,  which  had  been  ripening  during  the 
Scythian  expedition,  produced  this  extraordi- 
nary message,  the  remote  as  well  as  immediate 
causes  of  which  deserve  to  be  distinctly  unra- 
velled, being  the  last  knot  of  a tragedy  which 
involves  the  fate  of  Greece. 

The  spirited  resistance  of  Selym- 
bria  and  Byzantium,  the  successful 
expeditions  of  Phocion  in  the  Hel- 
lespont and  Propontis,  the  prodigal 
terrors  ofOchus  king  of  Persia,  who  thought  it 
impossible  to  employ  his  wealth  more  usefully 
than  in  bridling  the  ambition  of  Philip;  above 
all,  the  continual  expostulations  and  remon- 
strances of  Demosthenes,  conspired  to  rouse 
the  Athenians  from  the  lethargy  in  which  they 
had  been  long  sunk,  and  animated  them  with  a 
desire  to  carry  on  the  war  with  activity  and  effect 
against  the  common  enemy  of  Greece.  In  or- 
der to  save  the  state,  they  consented  (though 
probably  not  without  a violent  struggle)  to 
abolish  the  very  popular  law,  or  rather  abuse, 
introduced  by  Eubulus.  The  theatrical  amuse- 
ments, so  passionately  idolized  by  the  multi- 
tude, were  celebrated  with  less  pomp  and  splen- 
dour; and  the  military  fund  was  thenceforth 
applied  to  its  original  and  proper  destination. 
A fleet  was  equipped  far  superior  to  the  naval 
strength  of  Macedon.10  The  troops  and  parti- 
sans of  that  kingdom  were  driven  from  their 
ambushes  in  Megara,  and  in  the  neighbouring 


territories,  where  they  had  long  watched  an  op- 
portunity of  destroying  the  liberty  of  Athens. 
Demosthenes,  and  Hyperides,  an  orator  second 
only  to  Demosthenes,  were  despatched  into  the 
Peloponnesus  and  other  parts  of  Greece,  to 
persuade  the  several  republics  to  second  the 
generous  ardour  of  the  Athenians,  whose  recent 
success  under  Phocion  added  great  weight  to 
the  arguments  and  eloquence  of  those  illustri- 
ous statesmen.11 

Philip  was  accurately  informed  of  all  those 
transactions  ; and  the  alarm  universally  spread 
among  his  faithful  emissaries,  inclined  them  ra- 
ther to  exaggerate,  than  to  conceal,  the  danger. 
Highly  provoked  against  the  Athenians,  the 
continual  opposers  of  his  greatness,  he  was  un- 
able to  retaliate  their  injuries.  If  he  attacked 
them  by  land,  he  must  march  through  the  ter- 
ritories of  the  Thebans  and  Thessalians,  who, 
ever  selfish  and  capricious,  would  be  ready  to 
forsake  him  with  his  good  fortune.  His  dis- 
graceful expedition  against  the  cities  of  the  Pro- 
pontis, rendered  the  present  juncture  extremely 
unfavourable  to  such  a hazardous  design.  Nor 
could  he  attempt,  with  any  prospect  of  success, 
to  attack  the  enemy  by  sea,  since  the  Athenian 
fleet  so  far  exceeded  his  own,  that  it  had  inter- 
rupted, and  almost  totally  destroyed,  the  com- 
merce of  Macedon. 

Amidst  this  complication  of  difficulties,  Phi- 
lip showed  how  well  he  understood  the  unsteady 
temper  of  the  Greeks,  by  raising  the  siege  of 
Byzantium,  and  burying  himself  in  the  wilds 
of  Scythia,  till  the  fuming  animosity  of  his  ad- 
versaries had  time  to  evaporate.  Not  ventur- 
ing on  open  hostility,  he,  mean  while,  employed 
two  secret  engines,  which  continued  to  work 
during  his  absence,  and  from  which  he  had 
reason  to  expect  very  signal  advantages  before 
his  return.  There  lived  at  Athens  a man  of 
the  name  of  Antiphon,  bold,  loud,  and  loqua- 
cious in  the  popular  assembly,  in  which,  how- 
ever, he  had  not  a title  to  vote,  much  less  to 
speak,  his  name  not  being  recorded  in  the  pub- 
lic register  of  the  city.  This  defect  passed  long 
unobserved,  through  that  supine  negligence 
with  which  Demosthenes  so  frequently  up- 
braids his  countrymen.  At  length  the  treason 
of  Antiphon  (for  the  Athenians  regarded  an 
unqualified  voter  in  the  assembly  as  an  usurper 
of  sovereign  power)  was  discovered,  and  ar- 
raigned by  one  of  the  many  citizens  to  whom 
his  insolence  and  calumny  had  justly  rendered 
him  obnoxious  ; in  consequence  of  which  im- 
peachment, the  supposititious  Athenian  was 
divested  of  his  borrowed  character,  and  driven 
with  ignominy  from  a country,  whose  most  au- 
gust rights  and  honours  he  had  usurped  and 
disgraced.  Stung  with  disappointment  and 
rage,  Antiphon  had  recourse  to  the  king  of 
Macedon,  and  offered  himself  for  any  enter- 
prise, however  bloody  or  desperate,  by  which, 
in  serving  the  interest  of  Philip,  he  might  gra- 
tify his  own  thirst  for  vengeance.  The  ambi- 
tious Macedonian  kept  his  ends  too  steadily  in 
view,  and  pursued  them  with  too  much  ardour 
and  perseverance,  to  be  very  delicate  in  choosing 
the  means  by  which  he  might  distress  his  ad- 
versaries. He  greedily  closed,  therefore,  with 


7 Vid.  Plul.  in  Lysand. 

8 Plut.  de  Fnrtun.  Alexand.  et  Justin.  I.  ix.  c.  3. 

9 Plut.  in  Alexand.  10  Demusthen.  de  Corona. 


11  Demosthen.  de  Corona. 


414 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


the  proposal  of  Antiphon,  in  whom  he  rejoiced 
to  find  an  instrument  so  fit  for  his  service. 

The  superiority  of  the  Athenians  by  sea, 
which  their  actual  diligence  in  their  docks  and 
arsenals  showed  them  determined  to  maintain 
and  increase,  formed  the  chief  obstacle  to  the 
grandeur  of  Macedon.  By  whom  the  design 
was  suggested,  is  unknown  ; but  it  was  agreed 
between  Philip  and  Antiphon,  that  the  latter 
should  return  to  Athens  in  disguise,  insinuate 
himself  into  the  Piraeus,  and  lie  there  in  con- 
cealment, until  he  found  an  opportunity  to  set 
fire  to  the  Athenian  docks,  and  thus  destroy  at 
once  the  main  hope  of  the  republic.  While 
the  artful  king  of  Macedon  eluded  the  storm 
of  his  enemies  by  wandering  in  the  woods  of 
Scythia,  his  perfidious  accomplice  lurked,  like 
a serpent,  in  the  bosom  of  Athens,  being  lodged 
without  suspicion  in  the  harbour  which  glowed 
with  the  ardour  of  naval  preparation,  and  into 
which  were  daily  accumulated  new  masses  of 
tar,  timber,  and  other  materials,  alike  proper 
for  a fleet,  and  for  the  purpose  of  Antiphon. 

But  the  vigilance  of  Demosthenes  discover- 
ed this  desperate  design,  when  on  the  point  of 
execution.  He  immediately  flew  to  the  Piraeus, 
dragged  Antiphon  from  his  concealment,  divest- 
ed him  of  his  disguise,  and  produced  him  at 
the  bar  of  the  assembly.  The  capricious  and 
deluded  multitude,  alike  prone  to  anger  and  to 
compassion,  were  on. this  occasion  very  differ- 
ently affected  from  what  might  be  conjectured. 
Instead  of  execrating  a wretch  capable  of  such 
black  deeds,  they  beheld,  with  pity,  a man  once 
regarded  as  their  fellow  citizen,  brought  before 
them  after  a long  absence,  and  accused,  per- 
haps on  vain  presumptions,  of  such  a horrid 
crime.  They  knew  besides  the  wicked  artifices 
of  their  orators,  who,  to  increase  their  own  im- 
portance, often  terrified  the  public  with  false 
alarms  and  imaginary  dangers.  Aeschines,  and 
other  partisans  of  Philip,  were  at  hand  to 
strengthen  these  impressions.  They  represent- 
ed the  whole  transaction  of  Demosthenes  as  a 
complication  of  fraud  and  cruelty  ; loudly  in- 
veighed against  his  insolent  triumph  over  the 
calamities  of  the  unfortunate  ; and  reproached 
his  entering  by  force  into  the  house  where  An- 
tiphon was  concealed,  as  a violation  of  free- 
dom pregnant  with  the  most  dangerous  conse- 
quences, and  as  trampling  on  the  respected 
maxim  of  Athenian  law  and  religion,  that  every 
man’s  house  was  his  sanctuary.1  Such  was 
the  effect  of  these  clamours,  that  Antiphon  was 
dismissed  without  the  formality  of  a trial,  and 
might,  perhaps,  have  resumed  his  purpose  with 
more  security  than  before,  had  not  the  senate 
of  the  Areopagus  more  carefully  examined  the 
information  of  Demosthenes.  By  the  autho- 
rity of  that  court,  the  traitor  was  again  seized, 
and  tried.  Torture,  which  the  institution  of 
domestic  slavery  introduced  and  rendered  fa- 
miliar in  Greece,  extorted  from  him  a late  and 
reluctant  confession;  and  his  enormous  guilt 
was  punished  with  an  enormous  severity.2 

Had  the  detestable  enterprise  of  Antiphon 
been  crowned  with  unmerited  success,  Philip 


1 I.ysias  passim  in  Aeoral.  et  Eratosth. 

2 Demosthenes  de  Coron.  who  gives  the  honourable  ac- 
count of  hia  own  conduct  described  in  the  text. 


[Chap. 

would  have  attained  his  purpose  of  ruining 
Athens,  by  a rude  stroke  of  vulgar  perfidy. 
But  the  engines  which  he  set  in  motion  for 
gaining  the  same  end,  at  a time  when  he  was 
obliged  to  fly  the  awakened  resentment  of 
Greece,  and  to  bury  in  the  wilds  of  Scythia  the 
disgrace  sustained  before  the  walls  of  Byzan- 
tium, will  not  be  easily  matched  by  any  paral- 
lel transactions  in  history,  whether  we  consider 
the  profound  artifice  with  which  the  plan  was 
contrived  and  combined,  the  nice  adaptation  of 
the  several  parts,  or  the  unwearied  dexterity 
with  which  the  whole  was  carried  into  execu- 
tion. It  is  on  this  occasion  that  Demosthenes 
might  justly  exclaim,  “ In  one  circumstance, 
chiefly,  is  Philip  distinguished  above  all  his 
ambitious  predecessors,  the  enemies  of  Gre- 
cian freedom.  His  measures  required  the  co- 
operation of  traitors,  and  traitors  he  has  found 
more  corrupt  and  more  dexterous  than  ever 
i appeared  in  any  former  age  ; and,  what  is  most 
worthy  of  remark,  the  principal  instruments  ot 
his  ambition  flourished  in  the  bosom  of  that 
state,  whose  public  councils  most  openly  op- 
posed his  greatness.3 

The  time  approached  for  convening  at  Del- 
phi the  vernal  assembly  of  the  Amphictyons. 
It  was  evidently  the  interest  of  the  Athenians, 
and  might  have  been  expected  from  their  just 
resentment  against  Philip,  that  they  should 
send  such  deputies  to  the  city  of  Apollo,  as 
were  most  hostile  to  the  Macedonian,  and  most 
zealous  in  the  cause  of  liberty  and  their  coun- 
try. But  intrigue  and  cabal  prevailed  over 
every  motive  of  public  utility  ; and  the  negli- 
gent or  factious  multitude  were  persuaded,  at 
a crisis  which  demanded  the  most  faithful  and 
incorrupt  ministers,  to  employ,  as  their  repre- 
sentatives in  the  Amphictyonic  council,  Aes- 
chines and  Midias  ; the  former  of  whom  had 
so  often  reproached,  and  the  latter  had,  on  one 
occasion,  struck  Demosthenes  in  the  public 
theatre  ;4  and  who  were  both  not  only  the  de- 
clared enemies  of  this  illustrious  patriot,  but, 
as  well  as  their  colleagues  Diognetus  and  Thra- 
sicles,  the  warm  and  active  partisans  of  the 
king  of  Macedon.  Soon  after  their  arrival  at 
Delphi,  Midias  and  Diognetus5  pretended  sick- 
ness, that  they  might  allow  Aeschines  to  dis- 
play, uncontrolled,  his  superior  dexterity  ; and 
to  act  a part,  wThich,  requiring  the  deepest  dis- 
simulation, might  be  performed  most  success- 
fully by  a single  traitor.  The  Amphictyons 
were  employed  in  repairing  the  temple  ; the 
sacred  offerings,  which  had  been  removed  and 
sold  by  the  impiety  of  the  Phocians,  were  col- 
lected from  every  quarter  of  Greece  ; and  new 
presents  were  made  by  several  states,  to  supply 
the  place  of  the  old,  which  could  not  be  reco- 
vered. 

The  Athenians  particularly  signalized  their 
pious  munificence,  and  sent,  among  other  dedi- 
cations, several  golden  shields,  with  the  follow- 
ing inscription  : “Taken  from  the  Medes  and 
Thebans,  when  they  fought  against  Greece.” 


3 Demosth.  de  Coron. 

4 Demosih.  in  Mid.  and  ASsrhin.  in  Clesiphont. 

5 AJschines  savs,  &icyvi<Tov  rrvg sttsiv  ; “That  Dio?ne- 
tus  was  seized  with  a fever,  and  that  the  same  misJoriune 
happened  to  Midias."  p.  290 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


415 


XXXVI.] 

This  offering,  highly  offensive  to  the  Theban 
deputies,  was  prematurely  suspended  in  the 
temple ; the  Thebans  murmured,  the  Amphic- 
tyons  listened  to  their  complaints,  and  it  was 
whispered  in  the  council,  that  the  Athenians 
deserved  punishment  for  presenting  their  gift 
to  the  god,  before  it  had  been  regularly  conse- 
crated, together  with  the  other  offerings.  Pre- 
tending high  indignation  at  these  murmurs, 
iEschines6  rushed  into  the  assembly,  and  began 
a formal,  yet  spirited  defence  of  his  country- 
men ; when  he  was  rudely  interrupted  by  a 
Locrian,  of  Amphissa,7  a city  eight  miles  dis- 
tant from  Delphi,  which  growing  populous  and 
powerful  on  the  ruins  of  Crissa  and  Cirrha, 
had  ventured  to  cultivate  the  Cirrhean  plain, 
which,  near  three  centuries  before,  had  been 
desolated  by  the  Amphictyons,  solemnly  conse- 
crated to  Apollo,  and  devoted  to  perpetual 
sterility. 8 

The  artful  Locrian,  affecting  a religious  zeal 
not  less  ardent  than  the  patriotism  of  Aeschines, 
clamorously  interrupted  that  orator,  calling 
aloud  in  the  assembly,  that  it  ill  became  the 
dignity  of  the  Amphictyons  to  hear  with  pa- 
tience the  justification,  much  less  the  praises  of 
Athens,  a city  impious  and  profane,  which,  in 
defiance  of  human  and  divine  laws,  had  so  re- 
cently abetted  the  execrable  sacrilege  of  the 
Phocians ; that  if  the  Amphictyons  followed 
his  advice,  or  consulted  the  dictates  of  duty 
and  honour,  they  would  not  allow  the  detested 
name  of  the  Athenians  to  be  mentioned  in  that 
august  council.9 

Aeschines  thus  obtained  an  opportunity  of 
exciting  such  tumults  in  the  assembly  as  suited 
the  views  of  Philip.'0  In  the  ardour  of  patri- 
otic indignation,  which  he  knew  so  well  to  as- 
sume, he  poured  forth  a torrent  of  impetuous 
invective  against  the  insolent  Locrian,  and  his 
city  Amphissa;  not  only  justified  the  inno- 
cence, but  displayed  with  ostentation,  the  illus- 
trious merit  of  the  Athenians  ; and  then  ad- 
dressing the  Amphictyons  with  a look  pecu- 
liarly earnest  and  expressive,  “ Say,  ye  Gre- 
cians ! shall  men  who  never  knew  the  exalted 
pleasures  of  virtue  and  renown,  be  suffered  to 
tear  from  us  the  inestimable  rewards  of  glory 
so  justly  earned?* 11  Shall  men,  themselves  pol- 
luted by  sacrilege,  and  already  devoted  to  de- 
struction by  the  most  awful  imprecations,  pre- 


6 Apjjoyuji/ov  S'e  ftav  \ty£»v,  jrg oSti^oregov  irwt;  eta-eKn- 

XuSoTOf  s> g to  trvviSg *ov.  ASschin.  p.  290. 

7 AEschim's  varnishes  the  story  with  inimitable  address  : 
uvaSotttrxf  ruiv  A/uO‘tr<rs-jiv,  xvig-Mrog  xirekyeir txto;, 
text  <uf  i/UOl  eQXtMT 0 OuSl/XtXf  7TXiSilXi  (IS T£0-;fc>!X'.o$,  ITulf 
Si  KXt  Sxt/XOVITIVOf  l£x/UXg  TXVStV  XVTOV  7T  g 0 Xy  OfJti  VOU  . 

“ He  was  interrupted  by  the  vociferation  of  a certain  Am- 
phissean,  a man  the  most  impudent,  totally  illiterate,  and 
perhaps  impelled  to  folly  by  some  offended  divinity  ” 

8 See  these  events  particularly  related,  c.  v.  p.  51. 

9 AEachin.  in  Ctesiphon. 

10  Demosthen.  de  Corona. 

11  The  persuasive  energy  with  which  AEschines  defends 
his  treachery,  or  rather  displays  his  patriotism,  on  this  oc- 
cas  on,  is  not  excelled  by  any  thing  in  Demosthenes  him- 
self. Had  the  works  of  the  latter  perished,  the  two  ora- 
tions of  ASschines  (de  Falsn  L°eatione,  and  in  Ctesiphont.) 
would  have  justly  been  regarded  as  the  most  perfect  mo- 
dels of  eloquence  produced  bv  human  genius.  But  the 
works,  and  even  the  name  of  Aeschines,  are  eclipsed  in  the 
fame  of  his  rival.  So  disproportionate  are  the  rewards  of 
acting  a first  and  a second  part,  and  so  just  the  poet’s  ad- 
vice to  all  candidates  for  fame  : 

Any  mfig-Tivnv  xxi  vmtgoyfiv  tgtfitvxi  xkkotv. 


sume  to  call  the  Athenians  profane  and  impious? 
Look  down,  ye  reverend  guardians  of  religion! 
look  down  on  that  plain  (pointing  to  the  Cirr- 
hean plain,  which  might  be  seen  from  the  tem- 
ple,) behold  these  lands  anciently  devoted  to 
the  god,  but  now  appropriated  and  cultivated 
by  the  Amphisseans ; behold  the  numerous 
buildings  which  they  have  erected  there,  and 
that  accursed  port  of  Cirrha,  justly  demolished 
by  our  ancestors,  now  rebuilt  and  fortified.” 
AEschines  here  read  the  oracle  of  Apollo,  which 
condemned  that  harbour  and  those  lands  to 
perpetual  desolation.  Then  proceeding  with 
increased  vehemence:  “For  myself,  ye  Gre- 
cians ! I swear,  that  I myself,  my  children,  my 
country,  will  discharge  our  duty  to  heaven  ; 
and,  with  all  the  powers  and  faculties  of  mind 
and  body,  avenge  the  abominable  violation  of 
the  consecrated  territory.  Do  you,  Amphicty- 
ons ! determine  as  wisdom  shall  direct.  Your 
offerings  are  prepared,  your  victims  are  brought 
to  the  altar ; }rou  are  ready  to  offer  solemn 
prayers  for  blessings  on  yourselves,  and  on  the 
republics  which  you  represent.  But  consider 
with  what  voice,  with  what  heart,  with  what 
confidence,  37011  can  breathe  out  your  petitions, 
while  you  suffer  the  profanation  of  the  Am- 
phisseans to  pass  unrevenged.  Hear  the  words 
of  the  imprecation,  not  only  against  those  who 
cultivate  the  consecrated  ground,  but  against 
those  who  neglect  to  punish  them  ; “ May  they 
never  present  an  acceptable  offering  to  Apollo, 
Diana,  Latona,  or  Minerva  the  provident;  but 
may  all  their  sacrifices  and  religious  rites  be  for 
ever  rejected  and  abhorred!”12 

The  warmth  of  Aeschines  occasioned  the  ut- 
most confusion  in  .the  assembly.  The  golden 
shields,  irregularly  dedicated  by  the  Athenians, 
were  no  longer  the  subject  of  discourse.  This 
slight  impropriety  disappeared  amidst  the  enor- 
mous impieties  of  the  Amphisseans,  which  had 
been  so  forcibly  painted  to  the  superstitious 
fancies  of  the  terrified  multitude.  It  was  de- 
termined, after  violent  contentions  between 
those  who  accused,  and  those  who  defended, 
this  unhappy  people,  that  the  Amphictyons, 
having  summoned  the  assistance  of  the  citizens 
of  Delphi,  should  next  day  repair  to  the  Cirr- 
hean plain,  in  order  to  burn,  cut  down,  and  de- 
stroy the  houses  and  plantations,  which  had  so 
long  adorned  and  defiled  that  devoted  territory. 
The  ravagers  met  with  little  opposition  in  per- 
forming this  pious  devastation ; but  as  they  re- 
turned towards  the  temple,  they  were  overtaken 
and  assaulted  by  a numerous  party  of  Amphis- 
seans, who  threw  them  into  disorder,  took  se- 
veral prisoners,  and  pursued  the  rest  to  Delphi. 
The  signal  of  war  was  now  raised  ; the  insult- 
ed Amphictyons,  in  whose  persons  the  sanctity 
of  religion  had  been  violated,  complained  to 
their  respect  ve  republics,  while  the  recent  au- 
dacity of  the  Amphisseans  aggravated  their 
ancient  crimes  and  enormities.  But  agreeably 
to  the  languor  inherent  in  councils  which  pos- 
sess only  a delegated  authority,  the  measures 
of  the  Amphictyons  were  extremely  slow'  and 
irresolute ; and  when  they  at  length  raised  an 
army  under  the  command  of  Cottyphus,  a 


12  Pausanias  Phocic.  and  AEschin.  in  Ctesiphont. 


416 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Thessalian,  and  a creature  of  Philip’s,  their 
operations  were  ill  conducted  and  unsuccess- 
ful.1 

Affairs  were  thus  brought  to  the  issue  which 
had  been  expected  by  yEscliines,  and  the  accom- 
plices who  assisted  him  in  promoting  the  interest 
of  the  king  of  Macedon.  They  loudly  declaimed 
in  the  council  against  the  lukewarm  indifference 
of  the  Grecian  states  in  a war  which  so  deeply 
concerned  the  national  religion.  “ It  became 
the  Amphictyons,  therefore,  as  the  ministers  of 
Apollo,  and  the  guardians  of  his  temple,  to  seek 
out  and  employ  some  more  powerful  instrument 
of  the  divine  vengeance.  Philip  of  Macedon 
had  formerly  given  proof  of  his  pious  zeal  in 
the  Phocian  war.  That  prince  was  now  re- 
turning in  triumph  from  his  Scythian  expedi- 
tion. His  assistance  must  again  be  demanded 
(nor  would  it  be  demanded  in  vain)  to  defend 
the  cause  of  Apollo  and  the  sacred  shrine.” 
This  proposal  being  approved,  a deputation  of 
the  Amphictyons  met  Philip  in  Thrace.  He 
received  their  welcome  message  with  well- 
affected  surprise,  but  declared  his  veneration 
for  the  commands  of  the  council,  which  he 
should  be  ever  ready  to  obey.2 

The  vigilant  prince  had  already  taken  proper 
measures  for  acting  as  general  of  the  Am- 
phictyons, and  provided  a sufficient  number  of 
transports  to  convey  his  army  into  Greece.  He 
understood  that  notwithstanding  the  intrigues 
of  iEschines  and  his  associates,  the  Athenians 
had  been  persuaded  by  Demosthenes  to  oppose 
his  design,  and  that  their  admirals  Chares  and 
Proxenus  prepared  to  intercept  his  passage  with 
a superior  naval  force.  To  baffle  this  opposition, 
Philip  employed  a stratagem.  A light  brigan- 
tine was  despatched  to  Macedon  with  letters  of 
such  import  as  gave  reason  to  believe  that  he 
purposed  immediately  returning  into  Thrace.3 
Besides  writing  to  Antipater,  his  principal  con- 
fidant and  minister,  he  took  care  to  mask  his 
artifice,  by  sending  letters  to  his  queen  Olympias. 
The  brigantine  designedly  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  Athenians.  The  despatches  were  seized  and 
read ; but  the  letter  of  the  queen  was  politely 
forwarded  to  its  destination.4  The  Athenian 
admirals  quitted  their  station,  and  Philip  ar- 
rived, without  opposition,  on  the  coast  of  Locris, 
from  whence  he  proceeded  to  Delphi. 

Though  the  Macedonians  alone  were  far  more 
numerous  than  seemed  necessary  for  the  reduc- 
tion of  Amphissa,  the  king,  in  the  month  of 
November,  despatched  circular  letters  through 
most  parts  of  Greece,  requiring  from  the  The- 
bans, Peloponnesians,  and  other  states,  the  as- 
sistance of  their  combined  arms  to  maintain  the 
cause  of  the  Amphictyons  and  Apollo.  The 
Thebans,  rather  intimidated  by  a powerful  army 
in  their  neighbourhood,  than  inclined  to  the 
Macedonians,  of  whose  designs  they  had  lately 
become  extremely  jealous,  sent  a small  body  of 
infantry  to  join  the  standard  of  Philip.  The 
Lacedaemonians,  long  disgusted  with  the  mea- 
sures of  Greece,  and  envying  the  power  of 
Macedon,  which  they  had  not  public  spirit  to 
oppose,  beheld  all  recent  transactions  with  a 


[Chap. 

contemptuous  disregard,  and  seemed  firm  in 
their  purpose  of  preserving  a sullen  neutrality. 
The  Athenians,  awakened  by  the  activity  of 
Demosthenes  to  a sense  of  their  danger,  opposed 
Philip  with  ten  thousand  mercenaries,  despising 
the  threats  of  the  oracle,  against  those  who  took 
part  with  the  impious  Amphisseans.  The  ora- 
tor boldly  accused  the  Pythian  priestess  and  her 
ministers  of  being  bribed  to  Philippise,  or  to 
prophesy  as  might  best  suit  the  interest  of 
Philip ; while  iEschines,  on  the  other  hand, 
accused  his  adversary  of  having  received  a thou- 
sand drachmas,  and  an  annual  pension  of  twenty 
minae,  to  abet  the  impiety  of  Amphissa.5  The 
king  of  Macedon,  without  waiting  for  any  far- 
ther reinforcement  than  that  which  he  had  re- 
ceived from  the  Thebans,  besieged,  took,  and 
garrisoned  that  unfortunate  city  ; and  having 
routed  and  put  to  flight  the  Athenian  mercena- 
ries, spread  the  terror  of  his  arms  round  all  the 
neighbouring  territory.6 

The  news  of  these  events  occasioned  dreadful 
consternation  in  Athens.  The  terrified  citizens, 
who  could  not  be  persuaded  to  tear  themselves 
from  their  beloved  pleasures  in  order  to  defend 
Amphissa,  believed  the  moment  approaching 
when  they  must  defend  their  own  walls  against 
the  victorious  invader.  After  less  altercation 
and  delay  than  usually  prevailed  in  their  coun- 
cils, they  sent  an  embassy  to  Philip,  craving  a 
suspension  of  hostilities,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
despatched  their  ablest  orators  to  rouse  the 
Greeks  from  their  supine  negligence,  and  to 
animate  and  unite  them  against  a Barbarian, 
who,  under  pretence  of  avenging  the  offended 
divinity  of  Apollo,  meditated  the  subjugation  of 
their  common  country.  Megara,  Euboea,  Leu- 
cas,  Corinth,  Corcyra,  and  Achaia,  favourably 
received  the  ambassadors,  and  readily  entered 
into  a league  against  Macedon.  Thebes  fluctu- 
ated in  uncertainty,  hating  the  Athenians  as 
rivals,  and  dreading  Philip  as  a tyrant.  The 
situation  of  the  Theban  territory,  through 
which  Philip  must  march  before  he  could  in- 
vade Attica,  rendered  the  decision  of  that  people 
peculiarly  important.7  To  gain  or  to  retain 
their  friendship,  the  intrigues  of  Philip,  the 
eloquence  of  Athens,  had  been  employed  with 
unwearied  assiduity.  The  Thebans  temporised, 
deliberated,  resolved,  and  changed  their  resolu- 
tions. The  partisans  of  Athens  were  most  nu- 
merous, those  of  Macedon  most  active,  while  the 
great  body  of  the  Theban  people  heard  the  cla- 
mours and  arguments  of  both  parties  with  that 
stupid  indifference,  and  took  their  measures 
with  that  lethargic  slowness,  wh;ch  disgraced 
even  the  heavy  character  of  Boeotians.6 

To  fix  their  wavering  irresolu- 
tion,  and  to  awaken  their  sensibility, 
C Philip  at  length  had  recourse  to  the 

' * ' strong  impression  of  terror.  From 

the  general  wreck  of  Phocis,  his  foresight  and 
policy  had  spared  the  walls  of  Elatsea,  a city 
important  by  its  situation  between  two  ranges 
of  mountains,  which  opened  into  Phocis  and 
Bceotia.  The  citadel  was  built  on  an  eminence, 
washed  by  the  river  Cephissus,  which  flowed 


1 ./Eschin.  in  Ctesiphont. 

2 Ibid. 


3 Polyaen.  1.  iv.  c.  ii. 

4 Plut.  in  Demetr. 


5 ./Eschin.  in  Ctesiphont.  7 Diodor.  1.  xvi.  p.  475. 

6 Demosthen.  de  Corona.  8 Demosthen.  de  Coron. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


417 


XXXVI.] 

in  a winding  course  through  Boeotia  into  the 
lake  Copais  ; a broad  expanse  of  water,  wThich, 
by  certain  navigable  streams,  communicated 
with  Attica.  This  valuable  post,  conveniently 
situate  for  receiving  reinforcements  from  Thes- 
saly and  Macedon,  commanding  the  passage 
into  Boeotia,  distant  only  two  days  march  from 
Attica,  and  which,  being  garrisoned  by  a pow- 
ful  army,  might  continually  alarm  the  safety  of 
Thebes  and  Athens,  Philip  seized  with  equal 
boldness  and  celerity,9  drew  the  greater  part 
of  his  troops  thither,  repaired  and  strengthened 
the  walls  of  the  place,  and  having  thus  secured 
himself  from  surprise,  watched  a favourable 
opportunity  of  inflicting  punishment  on  the 
Athenians,  who  had  given  him  sufficient  ground 
to  represent  them  as  the  enemies  of  the  Am- 
phictyonic  council,19  by  whose  authority  the 
king  of  Macedon  affected  to  be  guided  in  all 
his  operations. 

We  are  not  acquainted  with  the  immediate 
effect  of  this  vigorous  measure  on  the  resolutions 
of  the  Thebans;  but  the  terror  and  consterna- 
tion of  the  uncorrupt  part  of  the  citizens,  may 
be  conjectured  by  what  happened  on  the  same 
occasion  at  Athens.  It  was  late  in  the  evening 
when  a courier  arrived  with  the  melancholy 
tidings  that  Philip  had  taken  possession  of 
Elatsea.  The  people  had  retired  to  their  houses; 
the  magistrates  supped  in  the  Prytanaeum;  but 
in  a moment  all  were  abroad.  Some  hastened 
to  the  generals  ; others  went  in  quest  of  the 
officer11  whose  business  it  was  to  summon  the 
citizens  to  council ; most  flocked  to  the  market- 
place ; and,  in  order  to  make  room  for  the  as- 
sembly, pulled  down  or  burned  the  temporary 
wooden  edifices  erected  by  the  tradesmen  or  ar- 
tificers who  exposed  their  wares  to  sale  in  that 
spacious  square.  Before  dawn  the  confusion 
ceased ; the  citizens  were  all  assembled  ; the 
senators  took  their  places;  the  president  report- 
ed to  them  the  alarming  intelligence  that  had 
been  received.  The  herald  then  proclaimed 
with  a loud  voice,  “ That  he  who  had  any  thing 
to  offer  on  the  present  emergence,  should  mount 
the  rostrum,  and  propose  his  advice.”  The 
invitation,  though  frequently  repeated,  was  re- 
ceived with  silence  and  dismay.  The  magis- 
trates, the  generals,  the  demagogues,  were  all 
present;  but  none  obeyed  the  summons  of  the 
herald,  which  Demosthenes  calls  the  voice  of 
their  country  imploring  the  assistance  of  her 
children.12 

At  length  that  accomplished  orator  arose,  and 
obtained  the  noblest  triumph  of  patriotism ; hav- 
ing proposed,  amidst  universal  consternation, 
an  advice  equally  prudent,  generous,  and  suc- 
cessful. He  began  by  darting  a ray  of  hope  into 
the  desponding  citizens,  and  assuring  them  that, 
were  not  the  Thebans,  the  greater  part  at  least 
of  the  Thebans,  hostile  to  Philip,  that  prince 
would  not  be  actually  posted  at  Elataea,  but  on 


9 Diodor,  et  Demosthon.  ubi  supra. 

10  Sachin,  in  Clesiphonl. 

11  Tav  a-xKTtyjLT^v  ixxKavv,  p.  339. 

12  KxXo Xs  rtt;  xoivtis  rvit  rrxrg i$0f  0vv>i(  rov  igtuvrx 
vtrtg  <ruT»igixf  hx  y*e  o x-4gu%  xxrx  too;  vo/xivg  ©uiix)1' 
»Qi*t<ri,  T«ori)x  xo<i>hv  ths  nxrgi'i o;  fiixxiov  sirri  vtyinr- 

6xi,  p.  317.  The  passage  that  follows  has  been  often  cited, 
and  can  never  be  too  much  studied,  as  ono  of  the  finest  ex- 
amples of  oratorical  narration. 

3 G 


thei  Athenian  frontier.  He  exhorted  his  coun- 
trymen to  shake  off  the  unmanly  terror  which 
had  surprised  them  ; and,  instead  of  fearing 
for  themselves,  to  fear  only  for  their  neighbours, 
whose  territories  were  more  immediately  threat- 
ened, and  who  must  sustain  the  first  shock  of 
the  invasion.  “ Let  your  forces,”  continued 
he,  “ immediately  march  to  Eleusis,  in  order 
to  show’  the  Thebans,  and  all  Greece,  that  as 
those  who  have  sold  their  country,  are  support- 
ed by  the  Macedonian  forces  at  Elatsea,  so  you 
are  ready  to  defend  with  your  hereditary  cou- 
rage and  fortune  those  who  fight  for  liberty. 
Let  ambassadors  at  the  same  time  be  sent  to 
Thebes,  to  remind  that  republic  of  the  good 
offices  conferred  by  your  ancestors ; to  assure 
the  Thebans,  that  you  do  not  consider  them  as 
aliens;  that  the  people  of  Athens  have  forgot 
all  recent  hostilities  with  the  citizens  of  Greece, 
and  will  never  forsake  the  cause  of  their  common 
country,  which  is  actually,  in  a peculiar  man- 
ner, the  cause  of  Thebes.  To  this  community, 
therefore,  offer  your  most  disinterested  servi- 
ces. To  make  any  demand  for  yourselves, 
would  be  highly  improper  in  the  present  junc- 
ture. Assure  them  that  you  are  deeply  affected 
by  their  danger,  and  prepared  generously  to  de- 
fend them  to  the  utmost  of  your  power.” 

These  proposals  being  received  with  general 
approbation,  Demosthenes  drew  up  a formal 
decree  for  carrying  them  into  execution  ; a 
decree  which  may  be  considered  as  the  expiring 
voice  of  a people,  who,  agreeably  to  the  mag- 
nanimous counsel  of  Pericles,  had  determined, 
that  when  every  thing  mortal  perished,  the 
fame  of  Athens  should  remain.13  Having 
painted  in  the  most  odious  colours,  the  perfidy 
and  violence  of  Philip  ; and  having  stigmatized 
with  due  severity,  the  recent  instances  of  his 
injustice  and  lust  of  power,  the  orator  concludes, 
“ For  such  reasons,  the  senate  and  people  of 


13  See  c.  xv.  p.  194.  In  defending  his  own  conduct,  not- 
withstanding the  unfortunate  consequences  with  which  it 
was  attended,  Demosthenes  seems  anima’ed  by  the  true 
spirit  of  Pericles.  BouX.o^uxi  ti  xxi  srxjxJo^ov  siti-civ;  xxi 
fiov  rrgo$  Ao;  xxi  5ex>v  ! [tyUeiq  rvjv  uTrepSoXfjv  6xvfixo-t\t 
xKXx  fti t*  svvoixg  o Xeyw  flSoogsprx ra1  n yxg  s t7rxtri  trgo- 
S/i'kx  tx  ovtx  yevqa-eirixi,  xxi  TrgoyXstrxv  ttxvts;,  xxi 

ou  nrpo  vKeye  Ai<r%ivvi,  xxi  Sn/xxg  Tig  Ov,  Soojv  Xxi  xixgxyu)$t 
o;  ouJs  e&6e y£a’  ovi's  ourtoj  xttottxtsov  th  tt oKsi  tovt'dv 
v\v’  eiTrsg  v\  5“ 0 g w S 1 TTgoyivMV  v\  too  ftiW ovto;  kiujvo;  s>xe 
Koyov.  The  beauties  of  such  passages,  depending  chiefly 
on  colloca’ion  of  words  and  sentiments,  of  which  Demos- 
thenes, of  all  writers,  was  the  greatest  master,  cannot  be 
translated.  The  meaning  is,  11 1 will  venture  to  sav  what 
is  contrary  to  common  opinion,  and,  in  the  name  of  the 
Hods!  regard  not  its  extravagance,  but  examine  it  with  in- 
dulgence. Had  all  of  you  foreseen  what.  going  to  Hap- 
pen, had  the  consequences  of  our  conduct  been  manifest, 
and  had  you,  iEschines,  repeatedly  proclaimed  them  with 
a loud  voice,  you,  who  then  opened  not  your  mouth,  yet 
the  Athenians  ought,  not  to  have  forsaken  the  cause  ofGrn- 
cian  freedom,  unless  they  forsook  their  glorv,  their  ances- 
tors, and  their  renown  with  succeeding  ages.”  The  same 
thought  is  expressed  in  language  still  holder,  after  the  hear- 
ers are  preoared  for  it,  by  a page  of  the  most  animated  elo- 
quence: A\\se  ovx  owure  xftxgrert,  xvXgn;  A5a> •xtoi1 

tov  VTrtg  r i);  xnxvru'v  cKsvSlgiXf  xxi  rwTqgixq  xivSwov 
xgxuevo »•  00  /xx  tou;  sv  Mxgxiovi  7rgoxiv$ui'SvrxvTXs  Torn 

TTgoy ovvuv,  fee.  S<'o  the  passage,  p.  343.  Ho  swears  by 
those  who  fell  at  Marathon,  Plalien,  Salamis,  and  Artemi- 
shini,  that  the  Athenians  did  not  err  in  defending,  with  un- 
equal 'brtune,  and  against  superior  force,  the  public  safety 
and  liberty.  Such  passages,  when  detached,  may  nppear 
extravagant,  and  gigantic;  but,  ns  in  the  church  of  St. 
Peter’s,  where  all  is  arranged  with  *uc,h  admirable  sym- 
metry, that  no  figure  appears  bevond  the  nnturnl  size,  so  in 
the  works  of  Demosthenes,  nothing  appears  monstrous  be- 
cause all  is  great. 


418 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Athens,  emulating  the  glory  of  their  ancestors, 
to  whom  the  liberty  of  Greece  was  ever  dearer 
than  the  interest  of  their  particular  republic, 
and  humbly  revering  the  gods  and  heroes, 
guardians  of  the  Athenian  city  and  territory, 
whose  aid  they  now  implore,  have  resolved  to 
send  to  the  coast  of  Boeotia  a fleet  of  two  hun- 
dred sail,  to  march  to  Eleusis  with  their  whole 
military  strength,  to  despatch  ambassadors  to 
the  several  states  of  Greece,  and  particularly  to 
the  Thebans,  encouraging  them  to  remain  un- 
terrified amidst  the  dangers  which  threaten 
them,  and  to  exert  themselves  manfully  in  de- 
fence of  the  common  cause,  with  assurance 
that  the  people  of  Athens,  unmindful  of  old  or 
later  differences  which  have  prevailed  between 
the  two  republics,  are  determined  and  ready  to 
support  them  with  all  their  faculties,  their  trea- 
sures, their  navies,  and  their  arms ; well  know- 
ing that  to  contend  for  pre-eminence  with  the 
Greeks  is  an  honourable  contest ; but  to  be 
commanded  by  a foreigner,  and  to  suffer  a Bar- 
barian to  wrest  the  sovereignty  from  their 
hands,  would  tarnish  their  hereditary  glory, 
and  disgrace  their  country  for  ever.” 

The  same  undaunted  spirit  which  dictated 
this  decree,  attended  the  exertions  of  Demos- 
thenes in  his  embassy  to  Thebes,  in  which  he 
triumphed  over  the  intrigues  of  Amyntas  and 
Clearchus,  and  over  the  eloquence  of  Philon  of 
Byzantium,  the  emissaries  employed  by  Philip 
on  this  important  occasion.  The  Thebans 
passed  a decree  for  receiving  with  gratitude  the 
proffered  assistance  of  Athens ; and  the  Athe- 
nian army  having  soon  after  taken  the  field, 
were  admitted  within  the  Theban  walls,  and 
treated  with  all  the  flattering  distinctions  of 
ancient  hospitality.1 

Mean  while  Philip  having  advanced  towards 
the  Boeotian  frontier,  his  detached  parties  were 
foiled  in  two  rencounters  with  the  confederates. 
Regardless  of  these  losses,  to  which,  perhaps,  he 
purposely  submitted,  as  necessary  stratagems  to 
draw  the  enemy  from  their  walls,  he  proceeded 
with  his  main  body,  thirty-two  thousand  strong, 
to  the  plain  of  Chaeronaea.  This  place  was 
considered  by  Philip  as  well  adapted  to  the 
operations  of  the  Macedonian  phalanx  ; and  the 
ground  for  his  encampment,  and  afterwards  the 
field  of  battle,  were  chosen  with  equal  sagacity; 
having  in  view,  on  one  side,  a temple  of  Her- 
cules, whom  the  Macedonians  regarded  as  the 
author  of  their  royal  house,  and  the  high  pro- 
tector of  their  fortune ; and,  on  the  other,  the 
banks  of  the  Thermodon,  a small  river  flowing 
into  the  Cephissus,  announced  by  the  oracles  of 
Greece  as  the  destined  scene  of  desolation  and 
wo  to  their  unhappy  country.2  The  generals 
of  the  confederate  Greeks  had  been  much  less 
careful  to  avail  themselves  of  the  powerful 
sanctions  of  superstition.  Unrestrained  by  in- 
auspicious sacrifices,  the  Athenians  had  left 
their  city  at  th  ; exhortation  of  Demosthenes,  to 
wait  no  other  omen  but  the  cause  of  their  coun- 
try. Regardless  of  oracles,  they  afterwards  ad- 
vanced to  the  ill-fated  Thermodon,  accom- 

1 Demosthenes,  who  furnishes  the  above  narrative,  avoids 
dwelling  on  the  following  melancholy  events,  which  are  re- 
lated by  Diodorus,  1.  xvi.  p.  475.  et  seq.  Plut.  in  Alexand. 
Strabo,  1.  ix.  p.  414.  Justin.  1.  ix.c.  iii.  et  Pousanias  Boeotic. 

2 Plut.  in  Vit.  Demosth. 


[Chai*. 

panied  by  thew  Thebans,  and  the  scanty  rein- 
forcements raised  by  the  islands,  the  states  of 
Peloponnesus,  which  had  joined  their  alliance. 
Their  army  amounted  to  thirty  thousand  men, 
animated  by  the  noblest  cause  for  which  men 
can  fight,  but  commanded  by  the  Athenians 
Lysicles  and  Chares,  the  first  but  little,  and 
the  second  unfavourably,  known ; and  by  The- 
agenes  the  Theban,  a person  strongly  suspected 
of  treachery ; all  three  creatures  of  cabal,  and 
tools  of  faction,  slaves  of  interest  or  voluptu- 
ousness, whose  characters  (especially  as  they 
had  been  appointed  to  command  the  only  states 
whose  shame,  rather  than  virtue,  yet  opposed 
the  public  enemy)  are  alone  sufficient  to  prove 
that  Greece  was  ripe  for  ruin. 

When  the  day  approached  for  abolishing  the 
tottering  independence  of  those  turbulent  re- 
publics, which  their  own  internal  vices,  and  the 
arms  and  intrigues  of  Philip,  had  been  gradually 
undermining  for  twenty-two  years,  both  armies 
formed  in  battle  array  before  the  rising  of  the 
sun.  The  right  wing  of  the  Macedonians  was 
headed  by  Philip,  who  judged  proper  to  oppose 
in  person  the  dangerous  fury  of  the  Athenians. 
His  son  Alexander,  only  nineteen  years  of  age, 
but  surrounded  by  experienced  officers,  com- 
manded the  left  wing,  which  faced  the  Sacred 
Band  of  the  Thebans.  The  auxiliaries  of  either 
army  were  posted  in  the  centre.  In  the  begin- 
ning of  the  action,  the  Athenians  charged  with 
impetuousity,  and  repelled  the  opposing  divi- 
sions of  the  enemy;  but  the  youthful  ardour 
of  Alexander  obliged  the  Thebans3  to  retire,  the 
Sacred  Band  being  cut  down  to  a man.  The 
activity  of  the  young  prince  completed  their  dis- 
order, and  pursued  the  scattered  multitude  with 
his  Thessalian  cavalry. 

Mean  time  the  Athenian  generals,  too  much 
elated  by  their  first  advantage,  lost  the  opportu- 
nity to  improve  it;  for,  having  repelled  the  cen- 
tre and  right  wing  of  the  Macedonians,  except 
the  phalanx,  which  was  composed  of  chosen 
men,  and  immediately  commanded  by  the  king, 
they,  instead  of  attempting  to  break  this  formi- 
dable body,  by  attacking  it  in  flank,  pressed4 
forward  against  the  fugitives,  the  insolent  Lysi- 
cles exclaiming  in  vain  triumph,  “ Pursue,  my 
brave  countrymen ! let  us  drive  the  cowards  to 
Macedon.”  Philip  observed  this  rash  folly 
with  contempt,  and  saying  to  those  around  him, 
“ our  enemies  know  not  how  to  conquer,” 
commanded  his  phalanx,  by  a rapid  evolution, 
to  gain  an  adjacent  eminence,  from  which  they 
poured  down,  firm  and  .collected,  on  the  ad- 
vancing Athenians,  whose  confidence  of  success 
had  rendered  them  totally  insensible  to  danger. 
But  the  irresistible  shock  of  the  Macedonian 
spear  converted  their  fury  into  despair.  Above 
a thousand  fell,  two  thousand  were  taken  pri- 
soners; the  rest  escaped  by  a precipitate  and 
shameful  flight.  Of  the  Thebans  more  were 
killed  than  taken.  Few  of  the  confederates 
perished,  as  they  had  little  share  in  the  action, 
and  as  Philip,  perceiving  his  victory  to  be  com- 
plete, gave  orders  to  spare  the  vanquished,  with 
a clemency  unusual  in  that  age,  and  not  less 
honourable  to  his  understanding  than  his  heart; 


3 Plutarch,  in  Alexand. 

• 4 Folyaen.  Stratagem.  1.  iv.  c.  ii. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


419 


XXXVI.] 

since  his  humanity  thus  subdued  the  minds, 
and  gained  the  affections,  of  his  conquered 
enemies.5 

According  to  the  Grecian  custom,  the  battle 
was  followed  by  an  entertainment,  at  which  the 
king,  presiding  in  person,  received  the  congratu- 
lations of  his  friends,  and  the  humble  supplica- 
tions of  the  Athenian  deputies,  who  craved  the 
bodies  of  their  slain.  Their  request,  which 
served  as  an  acknowledgment  of  their  defeat, 
was  readily  granted ; but  before  they  availed 
themselves  of  the  permission  to  carry  off  their 
dead,  Philip,  who  with  his  natural  intemperance, 
had  protracted  the  entertainment  till  morning, 
issued  forth  with  his  licentious  companions  to 
visit  the  field  of  battle;  their  heads  crowned 
with  festive  garlands,  their  minds  intoxicated 
with  the  insolence  of  wine  and  victory ; yet  the 
sight  of  the  slaughtered  Thebans,  which  first 
presented  itself  to  their  eyes,  and  particularly 
the  sacred  band  of  friends  and  lovers,  who  lay 
covered  with  honourable  wounds,  on  the  spot 
where  they  had  been  drawn  up  to  fight,  brought 
back  these  insolent  spectators  to  the  sentiments 
of  reason  and  humanity.  Philip  beheld  the 
awful  scene  with  a mixture  of  admiration  and 
pity;  and,  after  an  affecting ( silence,  denounc- 
ed a solemn  curse  against  those  who  basely 
suspected  the  friendship  of  such  brave  men 
to  be  tainted  with  criminal  and  infamous  pas- 
sions.6 

But  this  serious  temper  of  mind  did  not  last 
long;  for  having  proceeded  to  that  quarter  of 
the  field  where  the  Athenians  had  fought  and 
fallen,  the  king  abandoned  himself  to  all  the 
levity  and  littleness  of  the  most  petulant  joy. 
Instead  of  being  impressed  with  a deep  sense  of 
his  recent  danger,  and  with  dutiful  gratitude  to 
Heaven  for  the  happiness  ofhis  escape,  and  the 
importance  ofhis  victory,  Philip  only  compared 
the  boastful  pretensions,  with  the  mean  per- 
formances of  his  Athenian  enemies ; and,  struck 
by  this  contrast,  rehearsed,  with  the  insolent 
mpckery  of  a buffoon,  the  pompous  declaration 
of  war  lately  drawn  up  by  the  ardent  patriotism 
and  too  sanguine  hopes  of  Demosthenes.  It 
was  on  this  occasion  that  the  orator  Demades 
at  once  rebuked  the  folly,  and  flattered  the  am- 
bition of  Philip,  by  asking  him,  Why  he  assumed 
the  character  of  Thersites,  when  fortune  assign- 
ed him  the  part  of  Agamemnon  V 

Whatever  might  be  the  effect  of  this  sharp  re- 
primand,6 it  is  certain  that  the  king  of  Macedon 
indulged  not,  on  any  future  occasion,  a vain 
triumph  over  the  vanquished.  When  advised 
by  his  generals  to  advance  into  Attica,  and  to 
render  himself  master  of  Athens,  he  only  re- 
plied, “ Have  I done  so  much  for  glory,  and 
shall  I destroy  the  theatre  of  that  glory?”6  His 
subsequent  conduct  corresponded  with  the  mo- 
deration of  this  sentiment.  He  restored,  with- 
out ransom,  the  Athenian  prisoners;  who,  at 
departing,  havingdemanded  their  baggage,  were 
also  gratified  in  this  particular;  the  king  plea- 
santly observing,  that  the  Athenians  seemed  to 


5 Pausan.  Acliaic.  Diodor,  et  Justin,  ubi  supra. 

6 Plutarch  in  Pelopid.  7 Plutarch  in  Dcmosthcn. 

8 Plutarch  ascribes  to  this  smart  observation  the  modera- 
tion of  Philip’s  subsequent  conduct. 

9 Plutarch  in  Apophth. 


think  he  had  not  conqueTed  them  in  earnest.'6 
Soon  afterwards  he  despatched  his  son  Alexan- 
der, and  Antipater,  the  most  trusted  of  his  mi- 
nisters, to  offer  them  peace  on  such  favourable 
terms  as  they  had  little  reason  to  expect.  They 
were  required  to  send  deputies  to  the  Isthmus 
of  Corinth,  where,  to  adjust  their  respective 
contingents  of  troops  for  the  Persian  expedition, 
Philip  purposed  assembling,  early  in  the  spring, 
a general  convention  of  all  the  Grecian  states; 
they  were  ordered  to  surrender  the  isle  of  Sa- 
mos, which  actually  formed  the  principal  station 
of  their  fleet,  and  the  main  bulwark  and  de- 
fence of  all  their  maritime  or  insular  posses- 
sions; but  they  were  allowed  to  enjoy,  unmo- 
lested, the  Attic  territory,  with  their  hereditary 
form  of  government,  and  flattered  by  the  ac- 
quisition of  Oropus,  for  which  they  had  so  long 
contended  with  the  unhappy  Thebans.11  It  was 
not  merely  in  being  deprived  of  this  city,  that 
the  Thebans  experienced  the  indignation  of  the 
conqueror.  From  the  transactions  between  Ma- 
cedon and  Thebes,  in  the  early  part  of  his 
reign,  Philip  thought  himself  entitled  to  treat 
that  people,  not  as  open  and  generous  enemies, 
whose  struggle  for  freedom  deserved  his  cle- 
mency, but  as  faithless  and  insidious  rebels, 
who  merited  all  the  severity  of  his  justice.  He 
punished  the  republican  party  with  unrelenting 
rigour;  restored  the  traitors,  whom  they  had 
banished,  to  the  first  honours  of  the  republic ; 
and,  in  order  to  support  their  government, 
placed  a Macedonian  garrison  in  the  Theban 
citadel.12 

In  his  opposite  treatment  of  the  two  repub- 
lics, Philip,  it  is  probable,  was  swayed  neither 
by  affection  nor  hatred;  his  generosity  and  his 
rigour  were  alike  artificial,  and  both  directed  by 
his  interest.  Besides  the  different  characters  of 
the  Thebans  and  Athenians,  which  rendered  the 
former  as  sensible  to  the  impression  of  fear,  a3 
the  latter  were  susceptible  of  gratitude  and  es- 
teem, the  Thebans  had  too  long,  and  too  early, 
abandoned  the  cause  of  Greece,  and  too  strenu- 
ously exerted  themselves  in  establishing  the 
power  of  Macedon,  to  acquire  much  reputation 
by  one  unsuccessful  attempt  to  resist  Philip,  to 
which  they  had  been  at  length  roused  less  by 
their  own  public  spirit  or  courage,  than  by  the 
zeal  and  eloquence  of  Demosthenes.  The  Athe- 
nians, on  the  contrary,  who  from  the  beginning 
had  opposed  the  views  of  this  prince,  though 
with  far  less  prudence  and  activity  than  their 
situation  required ; who,  through  the  w7hole 
course  of  his  reign,  had  continued  to  traverse 
his  measures,  and  to  spurn  his  authority  ; and 
w?ho,  previously  to  the  last  fatal  encounter  at 
Chaeronsea,  had  endeavoured  to  form  a general 
confederacy,  and  when  that  proved  impossible, 
had  determined,  almost  unassisted  and  alone,  to 
resist  the  common  foe,  seemed  entitled  to  such 
gratitude  and  applause,  as  compassion  bestows 
on  ill-directed  valour  and  unfortunate  patriot- 
ism; and  the  rigorous  treatment  of  such  a peo- 
ple must  have  shocked  the  sentiments,  and  ex- 
asperated the  hatred,  of  every  citizen  of  Greece, 
wrho  yet  retained  the  faintest  tincture  of  ancient 


]0  Plutarch  in  Apophth. 

]]  Pnusanias  Bceotic.  Diodorus,  ubi  supra. 
12  Justin.  1.  ix.  c.  iv. 


420 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


principles,  or  who  w as  still  animated  by  the 
smallest  spark  of  public  spirit. 

Philip  too  well  understood  his  interest,  thus 
to  tarnish  the  glory,  and  risk  the  fruits  of  vic- 
tory, although  the  daring  and  imprudent  beha- 
viour of  the  Athenians,  after  the  battle,  might 
have  served  to  justify  the  harshest  measures. 
The  first  news  of  their  defeat  filled  the  city  with 
tumult  or  consternation.  But  when  the  disor- 
der ceased,  the  people  showed  themselves  dispos- 
ed to  place  their  whole  confidence  in  arms,  none 
in  the  mercy  of  Philip.  Upon  the  motion  of 
Hyperides,1  a decree  passed  for  sending  to  the 
Piraeus  their  wives,  children,  and  most  valuable 
effects,  together  with  the  sacred  images  and  or- 
naments of  their  gods.  By  the  same  decree,  the 
rights  and  freedom  of  the  city  were  bestowed  on 
strangers  and  slaves,  and  restored  to  persons  de- 
clared infamous,  on  this  one  condition,  that  they 
exerted  themselves  in  the  public  defence.  De- 
mosthenes, with  equal  success,  proposed  a decree 
for  repairing  the  walls  and  fortifications,  a work 
which,  being  himself  appointed  to  superintend, 
he  generously  accomplished  at  the  expense  of  his 
private  fortune.2  The  orator  Lycurgus  under- 
took the  more  easy  task  of  impeaching  the 
worthless  Lysicles,  w7hose  misconduct  in  the 
day  of  battle  had  been  the  immediate  cause  of 
the  late  fatal  disaster.  In  a discourse  calculated 
to  revive  the  spirit  of  military  enthusiasm,  which 
had  anciently  animated  the  Athenians,  the 
speaker  thus  warmly  apostrophised  the  con- 
scious guilt  of  the  mute  and  trembling  general: 
“ The  Athenians  have  been  totally  defeated  in 
an  engagement ; the  enemy  have  erected  a 
trophy  to  the  eternal  dishonour  of  Athens  ; and 
Greece  is  now  prepared  to  receive  the  detested 
yoke  of  servitude.  You  were  our  commander 
on  that  inglorious  day ; and  still  you  breathe 
the  vital  air,  enjoy  the  light  of  the  sun,  and  ap- 
pear in  our  public  places,  a living  monument 
of  the  disgrace  and  ruin  of  your  country.”  The 
quick  resentment  of  the  hearers  supplied  the 
consequence,  and  the  criminal  was  dragged  to 
execution.3 

Neither  the  inflammatory  decrees,  nor  the 
hostile  preparations  of  Athens,  could  shake  the 
moderation  of  Philip,  or  determine  him  to  alter 
the  favourable  terms  of  accommodation,  which 
he  had  already  proposed  by  his  ambassadors. 
The  patriotic  or  republican  party,  headed  by  the 
orators  just  mentioned,  breathed  hatred  and  re- 
venge; but,  at  the  intercession  of  the  Areopagus, 
which  on  this  occasion  acted  suitably  to  the 
fame  of  its  ancient  wisdom,  the  prudent  and 
virtuous  Phocion4  was  appointed  to  the  chief 
command.  The  discernment  of  this  statesman 
and  general,  whose  merit  had  been  neglected 
while  it  was  yet  time  to  perform  any  essential 
service,  might  easily  perceive  the  vanity  of  at- 
tempting to  recover  the  honour  of  a people, 
who,  antecedently  to  their  defeat  by  Philip,  had 
been  still  more  fatally  subdued  by  their  own 
pernicious  vices.  Amidst  the  important  events 
of  the  Macedonian  war,  and  amidst  the  dread- 
ful misfortunes  which,  in  consequence  of  its 


melancholy  issue,  hung  over  their  country,  a 
set  of  Athenian  citizens,  distinguished  by  their 
rank  and  fortune,  and  known  by  the  appellation 
of  the  Sixty,  from  the  accidental  number  of 
their  original  institution,  daily  assembled  into 
a club,  where  all  serious  transactions  were 
treated  with  levity  and  ridicule,  and  the  time 
totally  dedicated  to  feasting,  gaining,  and  the 
sprightly  exercises  of  wit  and  pleasantry.  This 
detestable  society  saw,5  without  emotion,  their 
countrymen  arming  for  battle  ; with  the  most 
carejgss  indifference  they  received  accounts  of 
their  captivity  or  death  ; nor  did  the  public  ca- 
lamities in  any  degree  disturb  their  festivity,  or 
interrupt,  for  a moment,  the  tranquil  course  of 
their  pleasures.  Their  fame  having  reached 
Macedon,  Philip  sent  them  a sum  of  money,  to 
support  the  expense  of  an  institution  so  favour- 
able to  his  views.  But  what  opinion  must 
Phocion  have  formed  of  such  an  establishment; 
or  how  was  it  possible  for  any  dispassionate 
man  of  ordinary  prudence  to  expect,  that  a re- 
public so  totally  degenerate,  as  to  foster  such 
wretches  within  its  bosom,  could  successfully 
wage  war  against  a vigilant  and  enterprising 
enemy  ? 

The  arguments  of  the  wisest  portion  of  the 
community  for  accepting  the  peace  proffered  by 
Philip,  were  strengthened  and  confirmed  by  the 
return  of  Demades  with  the  Athenian  prisoners 
taken  at  Chseronaea,  who  unanimously  blazed 
forth  the  praises  of  their  generous  conqueror. 
Ambassadors  were  accordingly  despatched  to 
the  king  of  Macedon,  to  accept  and  ratify  the 
treaty  of  peace,  upon  the  terms  which  he  had 
condescended  to  offer ; and  the  only  marks  of 
deference  shown  to  the  violent  party,  who  still 
clamoured  for  war,  were,  that  Demochares, 
who  ostentatiously  affected  a rude  boldness  of 
speech  against  Philip,  was  named  among  the 
ambassadors ; and  that  Demosthenes,  the  irre- 
concilable enemy  of  that  prince,  \\  as  appointed 
to  pronounce  the  funeral  oration  in  honour  of 
those  slain  at  Chseronaea. 

Demochares  acquitted  himself  of  his  commis- 
sion with  that  extravagant  petulance  which 
naturally  flowed  from  his  character;  and  which, 
in  the  Grecian  commonwealths,  too  frequently 
disgraced  the  decency  of  public  transactions. 
At  their  audience  of  leave,  Philip,  with  less 
sincerity  than  politeness,  lavished  on  the  am- 
bassadors his  usual  professions  of  friendship, 
and  obligingly  asked  them,  if  there  was  any 
thing  farther  in  which  he  could  gratify  the 
Athenians  .•*  “ Yes,”  said  Demochares,  “ hang 
thyself.”  The  just  indignation  of  all  present 
broke  forth  against  this  unprovoked  insolence, 
when  Philip,  with  admirable  coolness,  silenced 
the  clamour,  by  saying,  “Let  this  ridiculous 
brawler  depart  unmolested  ;”  and  then  turning 
to  the  other  ambassadors,  “ Go,  tell  your  coun- 
trymen, that  those  who  can  utter  such  out- 
rages are  less  just  and  moderate,  than  he  who 
can  pardon  them.”6 

The  honourable  employment  conferred  on 
Demosthenes,  which  showed  that,  notwith- 
standing the  unfortunate  issue  of  his  councils, 
the  Athenians  still  approved  his  principles  and 


1 Plut.  in  Vita  Hyperid. 

3 Diodor.  1.  xvi.  p.  477. 


2 Denoosth.  de  Corona. 
4 Plutarch  in  Phocion. 


5 Athenaeus,  1.  xiv.  p.  614. 


6 Seneca  de  Ira. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


421 


XXXVII.] 

his  patriotism,  might  have  been  expected  to 
elevate  his  sentiments  and  his  language  to  the 
highest  strain  of  eloquence.  But  the  complec- 
tion  of  the  times  no  longer  admitted  those  daring 
flights  to  which  he  had  been  accustomed  to 
soar  ; and  the  powers  of  the  orator  seem  to 
have  declined  with  the  fortunes  of  his  county. 
With  too  apparent  caution  he  avoids  the  men- 
tion of  all  recent  transactions,  and  dwells  with 
tiresome  minuteness  on  the  ancient,  and  even 
fabulous  parts,  of  the  Athenian  story.  One 


transient  flash  of  light  breaks  forth  towards  the 
end  of  his  discourse,  when  commemorating  the 
glory  of  the  slain,  he  says,  that  the  removal  of 
those  zealous  republicans  from  their  country 
was  like  taking  the  sun  from  the  world  ;7  a 
figure  bold,  yet  just ; since,  after  the  battle  of 
Chseronsea,  there  remained  no  further  hopes  of 
resisting  the  conqueror — the  dignity  of  freedom 
was  for  ever  lost,  and  the  gloom  of  night 
and  tyranny  descended  and  thickened  over 
Greece.8 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Liberal  Spirit  of  the  Macedonian  Government — Philip  appointed  General  of  the  Greeks — Re- 
bellion of  Illyria — Assassination  of  Philip — His  Character — Accession  of  Alexander — His  Ex- 
pedition against  the  Illyrians  and  Triballi — He  passes  the  Danube — Rebellion  in  Greece — De- 
struction of  Thebes — Heroism  of  Timoclea — Alexander  crosses  the  Hellespont — State  of  the  Per- 
sian Empire — Battle  of  the  Granicus — Siege  of  Miletus  and  Halicarnassus — Bold  Adventure  of 
two  Macedonian  Soldiers — Alexander's  judicious  Plan  of  War — Arts  by  which  he  secured  his 
Conquests — The  Battle  of  Issus — The  Virtues  of  Alexander  expand  with  his  prosperity. 


rpHE  Greeks  acknowledged,  with  reluctance 
and  sorrow,  that  by  the  decisive  victory  of 
Chaeronaea,  Philip  became  master  of  their  coun- 
try.8 But  we  should  form  a very  erroneous 
notion  of  the  Macedonian  government,  if  we 
compared  it  with  the  despotism  of  the  East,  or 
the  absolute  dominion  of  many  European  mo- 
narchs.  The  authority  of  Philip,  even  in  his 
hereditary  realm,  was  modeled  on  that  admira- 
ble system  of  power  and  liberty,  which  distin- 
guished and  ennobled  the  policies  of  the  heroic 
ages.10  He  administered  the  religion,  decided 
the  differences,  and  commanded  the  valour,  of 
soldiers  and  freemen.* I 11  Personal  merit  entitled 


7 Clmsg  yxg  si  rig  sx  rou  x*$£0"ti|xotos  xo r/uov  to  <fa>g 

iJ-SXOITO,  iw%  Sgtfg  XXI  l\.£7T0g  X7TXg  0 \£15T0yUfV0f  ytfl  IV 
GlOf  OUTUI  To) vSs  XvSg'MV  XVXlgeSiVTuiV,  SV  (TXOTSI  XXI  7T OAA»| 

SvtxKsix  nxg  o 7rgu otoj  too v E'k^hivwv  ysyovs.  p.  155. 

“ For,  as  if  light  were  taken  from  the  world,  the  remaining 
life  of  mortals  would  be  involved  in  difficulty  and  misery; 
so  by  the  death  of  those  warriors,  the  original  glory  of 
Greece  was  buried  in  darkness  and  ignominy.”  Of  his  dis- 
course, which  Libanius  denies  to  be  genuine,  many  passages 
are  corrupt,  and  many  interpolated.  The  general  debility 
of  the  whole  may  be  explained  by  the  observation  in  the 
text,  without  having  recourse  to  the  defence  of  Wolfius : 
“ Orationem  Libanius  Demosthenis  esse  negat  ut  vilein  et 
imbecillem  omnino  Quod  quis  miretur,  cum  etargumentum 
sit  imbecille?”  Dem  >sthen.  edit.  Wolf.  p.  152. 

8 Hie  dies  universae  Grsciae,  et  gloriam  dominationis,  et 
vetustissimam  libertatem  finivit.  Justin.  1.  ix.  c.  iii.  De- 
mosthenes, Diodorus,  Strabo,  and  Pausanias,  all  express 
the  same  sentiments,  and  nearly  in  the  same  words. 

9 Demosth.  /Eschin.  Diodor.  Plutarch.  Arrian,  passim. 

I shall  cite  only  the  words  of  Strabo:  u Xxiguvtix  Ss  oji-ou 
<t>iKi7nr og  o A/tuvTOo  /xsyxK'tig  vix*\<rxg  A5»|v*iou;  ts  xxt 
BotwTOuf  xxi  KofivSiov;,  xxtstt^  ryg  Ew*5of  xugios.” 
“ And  Chieronten,  where  Philip,  the  son  of  Amvntus,  hav- 
ihg  conquered  the  Athenians,  Boeotians,  and  Corinthians, 
in  a great  battle,  rendered  himself  master  of  Greece.” 
Strab.  Geograph.  1.  ix.  p.  414. 

10  When  Alexander,  intoxiented  with  prosperity,  claim- 
ed too  exalted  honours,  he  was  told  hy  Cailisthenos  the 
philosopher,  “ 0»  ngoyovoi  irc.  hgyoug  tig  ’Mxy.tSavixv 
l|A.Sov,  ovJf  Si*  «AA*  vo/uta  MxxtXovswv  xgxovrsg  XiXTiKe- 
<r*v.”  “Your  ancestors  came  from  Argos  to  Macedon,  and 
continued  there,  governing  the  Macedonians,  not  by  force, 
but  by  law.”  Arrian.  Exped.  Alexand.  p.  87. 

11  In  capital  cases,  says  Curtius^  the  soldiers  judged  in 
time  of  war  the  citizens  in  time  of  peace.  He  then  adds, 


him  to  hold  the  sceptre,  which,  being  derived 
from  Jove,  could  not  long  be  swayed  by  un- 
worthy hands.  The  superiority  of  his  abilities, 
the  vigilant  and  impartial  justice  of  his  adminis- 
tration, formed  the  main  pillars  of  his  preroga- 
tive; since,  according  to  the  principles  and  feel- 
ings of  the  Macedonians,  he  who  infringed  the 
rights  of  his  subjects,12  ceased  from  that  mo- 
ment to  be  a king. 

Having  effected  the  conquest  of  Greece,  the 
prudence  of  Philip  could  not  be  supposed  am- 
bitious of  introducing  into  that  country  more 
severe  maxims  of  government  than  those  which 
prevailed  in  Macedon.  He  affected,  on  the 
contrary,  to  preserve  inviolate  the  ancient  forms 
of  the  republican  constitution,  and  determined 
to  govern  the  Greeks  by  the  same  policy  with 
which  he  had  subdued  them.  While  Macedo- 
nian garrisons  kept  possession  of  Thermopylae 
and  the  other  strong  holds  of  Greece,  the  faith- 
ful and  active  partisans  of  Philip  controlled  the 
resolutions,  and  directed  the  measures,  of  each 
particular  republic.  The  superintendence  of  the 
sacred  games,  as  well  as  of  the  Delphic  temple, 
rendered  him  the  only  visible  head  of  the  na- 
tional religion:  in  consequence  of  the  double 
right  of  presiding  and  voting  in  the  Amphietyo- 
nic  council,  he  appeared  in  the  character  of  su- 
preme civil  magistrate  of  Greece;  and  his  illus- 
trious victory  at  ChrerontEa  over  the  only  com- 
munities that  opposed  his  greatness,  pointed 
him  out  as  the  general  best  entitled  to  conduct 
the  military  force  of  Greece  and  Macedon  in 
the  long-projected  invasion  of  Persia  ; an  office 
which,  as  he  might  have  assumed  it  without 
blame,  he  therefore  solicited  with  applause 
from  the  impartial  suffrages  of  the  people.13 

“ Nihil  potestas  re?um  valebat  nisi  prius  valuisset  auctori- 
tas;”  scilicet  populi.  Curtius,  1.  vi.  c.  ix.  p.  441. 

12  A very  mean  subject  literally  told  Philip,  “If you  re 
fuse  to  do  me  justice,  censo  to  be  n kin?.”  Plut.  Apophth 

13  Diodor.  1.  xvi.  p.  556.  Ttuv  Ew»)v<uv  sKojueviuv  xvtov 
TTgxriiyoVf  Sl C. 


422 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


That  this  condescension  must 
c/7*  have  been  highly  flattering  to  the 

A ' C 337  vanit^  ^ree^s’  appears  from 

the  transactions  at  Corinth,  where 
Philip,  the  year  following  the  battle  of  Chaero- 
nsea,  had  assembled  a general  convention  of  the 
Amphictyonic  states.1  In  this  assembly,  Dius 
of  Ephesus  represented,  with  affecting  energy, 
the  vexations  and  oppression  which  the  feeble 
colonies  of  Asia  daily  experienced  from  the  ra- 
pacious cruelty  of  the  Persian  satraps.  The 
general  voice  of  the  assembly  approved  his 
complaint,  while  they  recollected,  with  indig- 
nation, the  continual  outrages  of  a people  who 
had  anciently  invaded  their  country,  insulted 
their  religion,  burned  their  temples,  and,  not 
satisfied  with  these  acts  of  vengeance,  had  re- 
duced and  oppressed  their  colonies,  and  uninter- 
ruptedly excited  and  nourished  those  cruel  ani- 
mosities which  had  long  filled  every  part  of 
Greece  with  sedition  and  blood.2  Philip  had 
private  wrongs  to  urge  against  the  Persians, 
whose  hatred  and  jealousy  had,  on  several  oc- 
casions, thwarted  his  measures  and  disturbed 
his  government.  Yet  he  insisted  chiefly  on 
their  public  injuries,  and  notorious  enmity  to 
the  whole  Grecian  name,  the  honour  of  which 
could  only  be  redeemed  by  a successful  expedi- 
tion into  Asia. 

This  expedition  was  determined  with  uni- 
versal consent.  Philip  was  appointed  general 
of  the  confederacy;  and  (although  the  Lacedae- 
monians sullenly  absented  themselves  from  the 
convention)  when  the  several  states  came  to 
ascertain  the  contingent  of  troops  which  they 
could  respectively  raise,  the  whole,  exclusive 
of  the  Macedonians,  amounted  to  two  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  foot,  and  fifteen  thousand 
horse  ;3  a prodigious  force,  of  which  the  do- 
mestic dissensions  of  the  Greeks  had  hitherto, 
perhaps,  prevented  them  from  forming  an  ade- 
quate notion.  On  no  former  occasion  had  the 
several  republics  appeared  so  thoroughly  united 
in  one  common  cause;  never  had  they  shown 
themselves  so  sensible  of  their  combined  strength; 
never  had  they  testified  such  general  alacrity 
to  take  the  field,  or  such  unlimited  confidence 
in  the  abilities  of  their  commander, 
j-v.  It  belongs  to  the  biographers  of 

cxf7*  the  king  of  Macedon,  to  examine 

A C *336  circumst'ances  hloody 

transaction  which  clouded  this  glo- 
rious prospect.  In  the  general  history  of  Greece, 
it  is  sufficient  to  mention,  that  Philip,  having 
despatched  Parmenio  with  a body  of  troops  to 
protect  the  Asiatic  colonies,  was  prevented 
from  immediately  following  that  commander 
by  an  insurrection  of  the  Illyrian  tribes.4  This 
unseasonable  diversion  from  the  greatest  enter- 
prise of  his  reign,  was  rendered  more  formida- 
ble by  the  domestic  discord  which  shook  the 
palace  of  Philip.  A spiritless  proud  and  jea- 
lous than  that  of  Olympias,  mother  of  Alexan- 
der, might  have  been  justly  provoked  by  the 
continual  infidelities  of  her  husband,  who, 
whether  at  home  or  abroad,  in  peace  or  in  war, 
never  ceased  to  augment  the  number  of  his 


1 Diodor.  1.  xvi.  p.  556. 

2 Isocrat.  Orat.  ad.  Philip. 


3 Justin.  1.  ix.  c.  v. 

4 Diodor,  ad  Olymp. 


[Chap. 

wives  or  concubines.5  The  generous  mind  of 
Alexander  must  naturally  have  espoused  the 
cause  of  his  mother,  .although  his  own  interest 
had  not  been  deeply  concerned  in  preventing 
Philip  from  continually  giving  him  so  many 
new  rivals  to  the  throne.  The  young  prince 
defended  the  rights  of  Olympias  and  his  own, 
with  the  impetuosity  natural  to  his  character ; 
at  the  nuptials  of  Philip  with  Cassandra,  the 
niece  of  Attalus,  one  of  his  generals  and  favour- 
ites, an  open  rupture  broke  out  between  the  im- 
perious father  and  his  more  haughty  son  ;6  and 
the  latter,  concluding  all  those  to  be  his  own 
friends  who  were  enemies  to  the  former,  sought 
refuge  among  the  rebellious  Illyrians,  who  were 
already  in  arms  against  their  sovereign. 

^ The  dexterity  of  Philip  extricated 

7*  him  from  these  difficulties.  Having 
A *C  336  con(luere^  the  Illyrians,  he  softened 
Alexander  by  assuring  him  that  his 
illustrious  merit,  which  was  alike  admired  in 
Greece  and  Macedon,  had  not  escaped  the 
anxious  vigilance  of  a parent,  who,  by  giving 
him  many  rivals  to  the  throne,  had  only  given 
him  an  opportunity  of  surpassing  them  all  in 
glory,  and  in  the  merited  affection  of  the  Ma- 
cedonians.7 Soothed  by  this  condescension, 
Olympias  and  her  son  again  appeared  at  the 
court  with  the  distinction  due  to  their  rank; 
and  to  announce  and  confirm  this  happy  recon- 
cilement with  his  family,  Philip  married  his 
beloved  daughter  Cleopatra  to  the  king  of  Epi- 
rus, maternal  uncle  of  Alexander;  and  celebrat- 
ed the  nuptials  by  a magnificent  festival  which 
lasted  several  days,  during  which  the  Greeks 
and  Macedonians  vied  with  each  other  in  show- 
ing their  obsequious  respect  towards  their  com- 
mon general  and  master. 

Amidst  the  tumultuous  amusements  of  the 
festivity,  Philip  often  appeared  in  public  with 
unguarded  confidence  in  the  fidelity  and  attach- 
ment of  all  his  subjects:  but  proceeding  one 
day  from  the  palace  to  the  theatre,  he  was 
stabbed  to  the  heart  by  Pausanias,8  a Mace- 
donian; whether  the  assassin  was  stimulated 
merely  by  private  resentment,  or  prompted  by 
the  ill-appeased  rage  of  Olympias,  or  instigated 
to  commit  this  atrocity  by  the  Persian  satraps; 
which  last  is  asserted  by  Alexander,9  who  al- 
leged the  assassination  of  his  father  among  his 
reasons  for  invading  the  Persian  empire. 

Thus  fell  Philip  of  Macedon,  in  the  forty- 
seventh  year  of  his  age  and  twenty-fourth  of 
his  reign  ; the  first  prince  whose  life  and  actions 
history  hath  described  with  such  regular  accu- 
racy, and  circumstantial  fulness,  as  render  his 
administration  a matter  of  instruction  to  suc- 
ceeding ages.  With  a reach  of  foresight  and 
sagacity  peculiar  to  himself,  he  united  all  the 
prominent  features  of  the  Grecian  character, 
valour,  eloquence,  address,  flexibility  to  vary 
his  conduct  without  changing  his  purpose,  the 
most  extraordinary  powers  of  application  and 
perseverance,  of  cool  combination  and  ardent 
execution.  Intercepted  in  the  middle  of  his 
career  by  the  hand  of  an  assassin,  he  was  pre- 
vented from  undertaking  the  justest  and  noblest 

5 Athenasus,  1.  xiii.  7 Plut.  Apophth. 

6 Plutarch.  in  Alexand.  8 Diodor,  et  Justin,  ubi  supra. 

9 Arrian.  1.  ii.  c.  iii.  et  Curtius,  1.  iv,  c.  i. 


XXXVII.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


423 


design  of  his  reign ; a design  which  he  had  long 
meditated,  and  in  which  his  near  prospect  of 
success  promised  to  reward  the  labours  and 
dangers  of  his  toilsome  life.  Had  not  his  days 
been  shortened  by  a premature  death,  there  is 
good  reason  to  believe  that  he  might  have  sub- 
dued the  Persian  empire;  an  enterprise  more 
dazzling,  but  less  difficult,  than  the  exploits 
which  he  had  already  achieved.  Had'  that 
event  taken  place,  the  arduous  undertakings  of 
his  long  and  successful  reign  would  have  been 
ennobled  and  illuminated  by  the  splendour 
of  extensive  foreign  conquest;  Philip  would 
have  reached  the  height  of  such  renown  as  is 
obtained  by  the  habits  of  activity,  vigilance, 
and  fortitude  in  the  pursuit  of  unbounded  great- 
ness; and,  in  the  opinion  of  posterity,  would 
perhaps  have  surpassed  the  glory  of  all  kings 
and  conquerors,  who  either  preceded  or  fol- 
lowed him.  Yet,  even  on  this  supposition, 
there  is  not  any  man  of  sense  and  probity,  who, 
if  he  allows  himself  time  for  serious  reflection, 
would  purchase  the  imagined  grandeur  and 
prosperity  of  the  king  of  Macedon,  at  the  price 
of  his  artifices  and  crimes;  and  to  a philoso- 
pher, who  considered  either  the  means  by 
which  he  had  obtained  his  triumphs,  or  the  pro- 
bable consequences  of  his  dominion  over  Greece 
and  Asia,  the  busy  ambition  of  this  mighty  con- 
queror would  appear  but  a deceitful  scene  of 
splendid  misery. 

ni  A prince  who  is  his  own  minister, 

7 1 P*  and  almost  the  sole  depository  of 
- * 33ft  own  secrets’  commonly  leaves 
an  arduous  task  for  the  labours  of 
his  successor.  This  difficulty  presented  itself 
to  Alexander;  but  it  was  not  the  only  circum- 
stance that  rendered  his  situation  difficult.  The 
regular  order  of  succession  had  never  been 
clearly  established  in  Macedon,  and  was,  in 
some  measure,  incompatible  with  the  spirit  of 
royal  government,  which,  as  then  generally 
understood,  required  such  qualities  and  accom- 
plishments in  the  first  magistrate,  as  could  not 
be  expected  from  a promiscuous  line  of  here- 
ditary princes.  The  numerous  wives  of  Philip 
had,  however,  been  most  fruitful  in  female  off- 
spring. Nor  had  Alexander  much  to  appre- 
hend from  the  rivalship  of  his  brothers,  since 
Ptolemy,  born  of  Arsinoe,  and  afterwards  king 
of  Egypt,  was  reputed  to  be  the  son  of  Lagus, 
to  whom  Philip  had  married  Arsinoe,  while  she 
was  with  child  by  himself;  and  Aridaeus,  the 
son  of  Philina,  who,  for  six  years  after  the  death 
of  Alexander,  held  a pageant  royalty  in  the 
East,  by  the  terror  of  his  brother’s  name,  and 
through  the  discordant  ambition  of  his  lieu- 
tenants, possessed  not  vigour  of  mind  eagerly 
to  dispute  the  succession.  But  Alexander’s  title 
was  contested  by  Amyntas,  son  of  Perdiccas, 
the  elder  brother  of  Philip,  in  whose  name  the 
last  mentioned  prince  originally  administered 
the  government,  till  the  tender  age  of  Amyntas 
being  rejected  by  the  Macedonians,  Philip  so 
little  feared  the  revival  of  his  pretensions  to  the 
throne,  that  he  had  given  him  his  daughter  Cyna 
in  marriage.  This  new  advantage  strengthen- 
ed the  claim  of  Amyntas,  which,  it  was  proba- 
ble, would  be  warmly  supported  by  Attains,  a 
bold  and  enterprising  commander,  the  personal 


enemy  of  Olympias  and  her  son,  of  whom  the 
former  had  recently  put  to  death  his  kinswo- 
man Cleopatra,  with  shocking  circumstances  of 
cruelty.  Alexander  privately  took  measures 
with  his  friends  for  crushing  those  dangerous 
enemies ;'o  and,  being  acknowledged  king  of 
Macedon,  hastened  into  Greece  to  reap  the 
fruits  of  his  father’s  labours,  which  might  be 
lost  by  delay. 

In  his  journey  thither,  he  experienced  the  per- 
fidious inconstancy  of  the  Thessalians,  whom 
he  chastised  with  proper  severity;  and  having 
assembled  the  deputies  of  the  states  at  Corinth, 
he  was  invested  with  the  same  honours"  which 
had  been  conferred  on  his  predecessor.  During 
his  residence  in  that  city  there  happened  an  in- 
cident which  more  clearly  displays  the  charac- 
ter of  Alexander,  than  can  be  done  by  the  most 
elaborate  description.  Curiosity  led  him  to 
visit  Diogenes  the  cynic,  whose  singular  man- 
ners and  mode  of  life  have  been  mentioned  on 
a former  occasion.  He  found  him  basking  in 
the  sun,12  and,  having  made  himself  known  as 
the  master  of  Macedon  and  Greece,  asked  the 
philosopher,  what  he  could  do  to  oblige  him  ? 
“ Stand  from  between  me  and  the  sun,”  was 
the  answer  of  the  cynic  : upon  which  the  king 
observed  to  his  attendants,  “that  he  would 
choose  to  be  Diogenes,13  if  he  were  not  Alex- 
ander.” The  observation  was  natural  and 
sublime ; since,  under  the  most  dissimilar  veils 
of  external  circumstances  an^,  pursuits,  their 
characters  concealed  a real  resemblance.  Both 
possessed  that  proud  erect  spirit  which  disdains 
authority,  spurns  control,  and  aspires  to  domi- 
neer over  fortune.  But  “by  diminishing  the 
number  of  his  wants,  Diogenes  found,  in  his 
tub,  that  independence  of  mind,  which  Alex- 
ander, by  the  unbounded  gratification  of  his  de- 
sires, could  not  attain  on  the  imperial  throne  of 
Persia. 

q,  Alexander  having  returned  to 

cxi  2*‘  Macedon,  prepared  for  his  eastern 
A *C  *335  exPediti°n  by  diffusing  the  terror  of 
his  name  among  the  northern  Bar- 
barians. The  Illyrians  and  Triballi,  mindful 
of  the  injuries  of  Philip,  had  hastily  taken  arms 
to  oppose,  ere  it  became  too  late,  the  youth 
and  inexperience  of  his  son.  But  the  discern- 
ment of  the  young  prince  readily  perceived  the 
danger  of  leaving  such  formidable  enemies  on 
his  frontier.  With  a well-appointed  army,  he 
marched  from  Amphipolis,  and,  leaving  the  city 
Philippi  and  Mount  Orbelus  on  the  left,  arrived 
in  ten  days  at  the  principal  pass  of  Mount  Hae- 
mus,  which  led  into  the  territory  of  the  Triballi. 
There  he  found  a new,  and  not  less  formidable 
enemy.  The  independent  tribes  of  Thrace, 
having  embraced  the  cause  of  the  Triballi,  had 
seized  an  eminence  commanding  the  pass ; and, 
instead  of  a breastwork,  had  fortified  them- 
selves with  their  carriages  or  wagons,  which 
they  purposed  to  roll  down  on  the  Macedo- 
nians. To  elude  this  unusual  attack,  Alexan- 
der commanded  such  of  his  troops  as  could  not 
conveniently  open  their  ranks,  and  allow  free 

10  Diodorus,  1.  xvii.  2,  et  seq.  et  Justin,  xi.  i,  el  seq. 

11  Idem,  ibid. 

12  Pausan.  I.  ii.  p.  88. 

13  Laertius  in  Vit.  Diogen. 


424 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


issue  to  the  intended  violence,  to  fall  flat  on  the 
ground,  and  carefully  close  their  shields,  that 
the  descending  wagons  might  harmlessly  bound 
over  them.  In  consequence  of  this  contrivance, 
the  hostile  artillery  was  exhausted  in  vain. 
Alexander  then  attacked  the  Thracians  with 
admirable  order  and  celerity.  Fifteen  hundred 
fell ; their  swiftness  and  knowledge  of  the 
country  saved  the  greater  number.  The  pri- 
soners, women,  and  booty,  were  sent  for  sale 
to  the  maritime  cities  on  the  Euxine.1 

Alexander  having  entrusted  this  business  to 
Lysanias  and  Philotas,  passed  the  mountains, 
and  pursued  the  Triballi.  By  galling  them 
with  his  bowmen  and  slingers,  he  gradually 
forced  them  from  their  fastnesses,  and  defeated 
a powerful  body  of  their  warriors  encamped 
on  the  woody  banks  of  the  Lyginus,  distant 
three  days’  march  from  the  Danube.  The  re- 
mainder of  the  nation,  conducted  by  the  valour 
of  their  chieftain  Syrmus,  and  reinforced  by  a 
numerous  band  of  Thracians,  took  refuge  in 
Peuce,  an  island  in  the  Danube,  defended  by 
abrupt  and  rugged  banks,  surrounded  by  deep 
and  foaming  streams.  Alexander,  though  he 
had  just  received  some  ships  of  war  from  By- 
zantium, judged  it  too  hazardous  to  assault  the 
island  ; and  the  hostile  appearance  of  the  Getae 
on  the  northern  bank,  furnished  him  with  an 
honourable  pretence  for  declining  the  siege  of 
Peuce.  On  the  margin  of  the  Danube,  that 
audacious  people  had  drawn  up  four  thousand 
horse,  and  above  ten  thousand  foot,  showing, 
by  their  countenance  and  demeanour,  a deter- 
mined resolution  to  oppose  the  landing  of  an 
enemy.  Provoked  by  those  signs  of  defiance, 
and  animated  by  the  glory  of  passing  the  great- 
est of  all  European  rivers,  and  that  which  was 
surrounded  with  the  greatest  and  most  warlike 
nations,  Alexander  filled  the  hides  used  in  en- 
campment with  straw  and  other  buoyant  ma- 
terials, and  collected  all  the  boats  employed  by 
the  natives  of  those  parts  in  fishing,  commerce, 
or  piracy.  Amidst  the  darkness  of  the  ensu- 
ing night,  he  thus  transported  fifteen  hundred 
cavalry,  and  four  thousand  infantry,  to  that  part 
of  the  opposite  bank,  which  was  covered  with 
high  and  thick  corn.  At  the  dawn  of  day,  he 
commanded  his  foot  to  march  through  those 
rich  fields2  with  transversed  spears  ; while  they 
remained  concealed  in  the  corn,  the  cavalry 
followed  them  ; but  as  soon  as  they  emerged 
into  the  naked  plain,  the  horse  advanced  to  the 
front,  and  both  suddenly  presenting  an  irresisti- 
ble object  of  terror,  the  Getae  abandoned  their 
post,  and  fled  to  their  city,  which  was  four 
miles  distant.  There,  they  at  first  purposed  to 
make  a vigorous  defence  ; but  perceiving  that 
Alexander  cautiously  skirted  the  river,  to  avoid 
the  danger  of  an  ambush,  reflecting  on  his  as- 
tonishing boldness  in  passing,  without  a bridge, 
the  Danube  in  one  night,  and  beholding  the 
impenetrable  firmness  of  his  phalanx,  and  the 
irresistible  impetuosity  of  his  cavalry,3  they 


1 Arrian.  Alexand.  Expedit  1.  i.  p.  2,  et  seq. 

2 tlKxyixi(  T*«5  a-ttgi <r<rxis  ur ixX.vxvtj;  tov  g-irov. 
The  spears  were  transversed,  not  only  for  the  purpose  of 
concealment,  “ but  to  make  a road  through  the  corn.” 

3 QoSigx  St  ms  pxXxyyos  a |uv*A.ar»s,  Sixix  Sr  a r*» 

i-trirtvv  tjigoxii,  Arrian,  p.  4.  Alexander  knew  the  proper 

use  of  cavalry,  which  was  so  little  understood  in  the  lost 


[Chap. 

regarded  farther  opposition  as  vain,  forsook 
their  habitations,  and  retired  precipitately,  with 
their  wives  and  children,  into  the  northern  de- 
sert.4 

The  Macedonians  entered,  and  sacked  the 
town.  The  spoil  was  entrusted  to  Philip  and 
Meleager  ; Alexander,  mindful  of  so  many  fa- 
vours, returned  sacrifices  of  thanks  to  Jupiter, 
Hercules,  and  the  god  of  the  Danube  ; and, 
encamping  on  the  northern  bank  of  the  river, 
received  very  submissive  embassies  from  the 
surrounding  nations.  Even  Syrmus,  the  intre- 
pid leader  of  the  Triballi,  sent  propitiatory 
presents,  and  readily  obtained  pardon  from  a 
prince,  who  could  admire  virtue  in  a Barbarian, 
and  an  enemy.  5 

Necessity  alone  compelled  Alexander  to  carry 
his  arms  into  those  inhospitable  regions.  Ani- 
mated by  an  ambition  to  subdue  the  Asiatic 
plains,  he  turned  with  contempt  from  bleak 
heaths  and  barren  mountains,  not  deigning  to 
chastise  the  boastful  arrogance  of  the  Celtse. 
The  Boii  and  Senones,  Celtic  or  German  tribes 
(for  those  nations  were  often  confounded  by 
the  Greeks,)  sent  ambassadors  to  Alexander, 
who,  observing  their  lofly  stature  and  haughty 
spirit,  endeavoured  to  humble  them  by  .asking, 
“ what,  of  all  things,  they  most  feared  ?”  not 
doubting  they  would  answer,  “yourself;”  but 
they  replied,  “ the  fall  of  heaven.”  The  king 
declared  them  his  friends  and  allies,  but  whis- 
pered to  those  around  him,  “ the  Celtse  are  an 
arrogant  people.6  Could  we  admit  the  truth 
of  this  narrative,  and  believe  that  ambassadors 
were  really  sent  to  Alexander  by  the  nations 
inhabiting  the  northern  recesses  of  the  Ionian 
gulf,  it  would  be  interesting  to  observe  the  early 
character  and  first  proceedings  of  a people  who 
were  destined  to  subdue  the  conquerors  of  the 
Macedonian  empire. 

In  his  return  towards  Pella,  Alexander 
marched  through  the  friendly  country  of  the 
Pseonians,  where  he  received  the  unpleasant  in- 
telligence that  the  Illyrian  tribes  were  in  arms, 
headed  by  Clitus,  son  of  Bardyllis,  the  heredi- 
tary foe  of  Macedon.  Glaucias,  king  of  the 
Taulantii,  prepared  to  join  the  arms  of  Clitus  ; 
the  Autariadse,  likewise  an  Illyrian  nation,  had 
determined  to  obstruct  the  march  of  Alexander. 
Amidst  these  difficulties,  he  wras  encouraged  by 
Langarus,  chief  of  the  Agrians,  a warlike  tribe 
inhabiting  the  ridges  of  Mount  Hsemus.  Even 
in  the  life-time  of  Philip,  Langarus7  had  dis- 
cerned the  superior  merit  of  his  son,  with 
whom  he  had  early  entered  into  a confidential 
correspondence.  Conducted  by  the  activity  of 
Langarus,  the  Agrian  targeteers,  who  thence- 
forth had  an  important  share  in  till  the  Mace- 
donian victories,  invaded  the  country  of  the 
Autariadae.  Their  ravages  were  equally  rapid 
and  destructive  ; the  Autariadae,  broken  by  do- 


century,  that  the  three  ranks  fired  successively  before  the 
charge  : each,  after  firing,  passing,  by  a carocol,  behind  the 
rest.  Gusta vus  Adolphus  allowed  only  his  first  rank  to 
fire  ; which  was  doubtless  a great  improvement,  and  paved 
the  wav  for  reducing  the  service  of  cavalry  to  its  true 
principle,  what  Arrian  calls  “a  s^6om.” 

4 Arrian,  1.  i.  p.  3 et  seq.  5 Idem.  ibid. 

6 Idem.  p.  5.  et  Strabo,  1.  vii.  p.  208  et  209. 

7 AxyyxfO?  . . . x*»  4>»Xnrwou  £»» roj  ourir*?o/*i*'i' 
A \tjrxvS(ov  StiKss  tfv,  ***  «Si*  urps<rbEu<ri  sr»(f  avrev. 
Arrian,  p.  5. 


XXXVII.] 

mestic  calamity,  or  alarmed  by  private  danger, 
abandoned  the  design  of  co-operating  with  the 
enemies  of  Alexander.  That  prince  thus  ad- 
vanced without  opposition  to  Pellion,  the  prin- 
cipal strong-hold  of  the  Illyrians.  His  army 
encamped  on  the  banks  of  the  Eordaicus.  The 
enemy  were  posted  on  the  adjacent  mountains, 
and  concealed  among  thick  woods,  purposing 
to  attack  the  Macedonians  by  a sudden  and 
united  assault.  But  their  courage  failed  them 
in  the  moment  of  execution.  Not  daring  to 
wait  the  approach  of  the  phalanx,  they  preci- 
pitately retreated  to  their  city,  leaving  behind 
them  the  horrid  vestiges  of  their  bloody  super- 
stition, three  boys,  three  maids,  and  as  many 
black  rams,  which,  having  just  sacrificed,  they 
wanted  time  to  removed 

Mean  while  Glaucias,  king  of  the  Taulantii, 
approached  with  a great  force9  to  relieve  Pel- 
lion,  and  assist  his  ally.  Alexander  had  des- 
patched Philotas  to  forage  at  the  head  of  a 
strong  body  of  cavalry.  Glaucias  attempted 
to  intercept  and  cut  off  this  detachment.  Al- 
exander, leaving  part  of  his  army  to  awe  Pel- 
lion,  marched  to  the  assistance  of  Philotas ; 
Clitus  reinforced  Glaucias ; a decisive  action 
thus  seemed  inevitable,  if  the  thickness  of  lofty 
forests,  and  the  intricacies  of  winding  moun- 
tains, had  afforded  a proper  scene  for  a general 
engagement.  The  Barbarians  excelled  in  know- 
ledge of  the  country  ; the  Macedonians  in  skill 
and  courage.  The  war  was  widely  diffused, 
and  ably  supported.  But  the  discipline  of  Al- 
exander finally  prevailed.  By  surprise,  by 
stratagem,  by  the  terror  of  his  military  en- 
gines, which  destroyed  at  a distance,  and  by 
such  prompt  and  skilful  manoeuvres10  as  had 
never  been  before  seen,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Apsus11  and  Erigone,  he  totally  dispersed  this 
immense  cloud  of  Barbarians.  Many  were 
slain,  and  many  made  captive  ; a remnant  hav- 
ing burnt  their  city,  which  they  despaired  be- 
ing able  to  defend,  sought  refuge  among  the 
Taulantian  mountains.12 

Mean  while  a report  circulated  in 
cxf7-  Greece,  that  Alexander  had  perish- 

A C *335  e(*  *n  lnyria  ’ and  as  men  readily 

believe  that  which  their  interests 
make  them  wish ,13  this  vague  rumour  was  gree- 
dily embraced  by  the  part;sans  of  Grecian  in- 
dependence. The  Athenian  demagogues  re- 
sumed their  usual  boldness;  tho  Lacedaemonians 
already  fancied  themselves  heading  the  revolt;11 
but  the  first  acts  of  rebellion  were  committed 
by  the  Thebans,  who,  having  secretly  recalled 
their  e>  iles,  treacherously15  murdered  Amyntas 
and  Timolaus,  commanders  of  the  Cadmaea, 


8 Arrian,  p.  5. 

9 Mir*  7tokk> i?  Svvxfttvf.  Idem.  p.  6.  Neither  Thrace 
nor  Illyria  were  populous  in  those  days;  but  ns  every  man 
was  a soldier,  the  princes  of  those  countries  often  brought 
numerous  armies  into  the  field. 

10  These  are  laboriously  described  by  Arrian,  p.  6.  who, 
it  must  be  acknowledged,  appears  sometimes  too  fond  of 
displaying  his  skill  in  tactics. 

11  Otherwise  called  the  Eordaicus. 

12  Arrian,  p.  7. 

13  Ou  y ivuxrxovris  t*  oi/o-«,  Tee  /xxKig-rx  x«5*  qSovqv 
o-tpia-iv  tixufov.  “ Not  knowing  the  truth,  hope  regulated 
their  conjectures.”  Idem.  p.  8. 

14  The  Lacedaemonians,  says  Arrian,  were  yvx/uxi; 
ee$£(TTi)xoTej,  “revolted  in  their  minds.” 

15  They  seized  them  without  the  garrison,  ovJsv 
vwoT0B-»](ra6VT»s  irokifuov,  “suspecting  no  hostility.” 

3 H 


425 

and  prepared  to  expel  the  Macedonian  garrison 
from  that  fortress. 

Alexander,  when  apprised  of 
these  proceedings,  relinquished  the 
- ’235  pursuit  of  the  Barbarians,  descend- 
ed by  rapid  marches  along  the  west- 
ern frontier  of  Macedon,  traversed  Thessaly, 
entered  Bcbi  itia,  and  in  the  space  of  fourteen 
days  after  his  receiving  the  first  news  of  the 
rebellion,  besieged  and  demolished  Thebes. 
The  decisive  boldness  of  this  measure  has  been 
highly  extolled  by  historians,  because  nothing 
could  have  a more  direct  tendency  to  quash  the 
seditious  spirit  of  the  Greeks,  than  the  rapid 
punishment  of  Thebes,  which  at  once  filled  the 
neighbouring  cities  with  pity  and  terror.  A 
spectacle  of  that  dreadful  kind  was  necessary, 
it  has  been  said,  to  secure  the  future  tranquil- 
lity of  Greece  and  Macedon,  and  to  enable  Al- 
exander to  undertake  his  Persian  expedition, 
without  the  danger  of  being  interrupted  by  re- 
bellions in  Europe.16  But,  notwithstanding  this 
sagacious  reflection,  it  appears  that  the  destruc- 
tion of  Thebes  was  the  effect,  not  of  policy, 
but  of  obstinacy  and  accident.  In  approaching 
that  unfortunate  city,  Alexander  repeatedly 
halted,  to  allow  the  insurgents  time  to  repent 
of  their  rashness.  The  wiser  part  of  the  The- 
bans proposed  to  embrace  the  opportunity  of 
sending  ambassadors  to  crave  his  pardon.  But 
the  exiles  and  authors  of  the  sedition  encou- 
raged the  multitude  to  persevere;  and  instead 
of  showing  remorse  for  their  past  crimes,  sent 
forth  their  cavalry  and  light  infantry,  who  as- 
saulted and  slew  several  of  the  Macedonian 
outguards.17 

Exasperated  by  these  ir  suits,  Perdiccas,  com- 
mander of  an  advanced  party,  attacked  the 
Theban  wall,  without  waiting  the  orders  of 
Alexander.  A breach  was  speedily  effected  ; 
the  brigade  of  Perdiccas  was  followed  by  that 
of  Amyntas,  son  of  Andromenes  ; but  both 
were  so  warmly  received  by  the  enemy,  that 
Alexander  saw  the  necessity  of  reinforcing 
them,  lest  they  should  be  surrounded  and  cut 
off.  The  Thebans  were  then  repelled  in  their 
turn  ; but  soon  rallying,  beat  back  the  assail- 
ants, and  pursued  them  with  disordered  ranks. 
Alexander  then  seized  the  decisive  moment  of 
advancing  with  a close  phalanx.  His  assault 
was  irresistible.  The  Thebans  fled  amain ; 
and  such  was  their  trepidation,  that  having  en- 
tered their  gates,  they  neglected  to  shut  them 
against  the  pursuers.  The  Macedonians,  and 
their  Greek  auxiliaries,  thus  rushed  tumultu- 
ously into  the  place.  A dreadful  slaughter  en- 
sued. The  Phocians,  Orchomenians,  and  Pla- 
tseans,  rejoiced  at  gaining  an  opportunity  to 
gratify  their  implacable  resentment  against 

lfi  Plut.  Diodor.  Justin.  Among  the  moderns,  Mablvsur 
les  GrCcs,  and  the  leurned  author  of  the  E.xamen  des  Ilis- 
toriens  d’Alexandre,  who  says,  p.  46.  “Alexandro  devoit 
assurer  sa  domination  da  ns  la  Grece  pnr  qnelquecnup  d’eclat, 
avant  que  de  passer  en  Asie  ; la  revolte  de  Thelma  lui  pre- 
senta  une  occasion  favourable  a ses  vues.”  Yet  Arrian, 
whose  narrative  was  copied  from  the  relation  of  eye-wit- 
nesses, expresses,  thrice  in  the  same  pace,  the  reluctance 
of  Alexander  to  attack  the  Thebans.  Ex^iJouj  *r*  roig 
©i)Sseio){  s<  fitrxyvovi  eg  sm  roif  xxxjuf  tyvwr/ut- 

VOIC  7Tg  S0-SsV(TS*IVTO  7TXg'  XXITOV.  Alld  BSTnin,  En  yxg  TOIf 
Six  Ciku ««  sX.Ssiv  /uxKKov  ti  a Six  xivSuvov  qSiKs. 
And  still  to  the  same  purpose,  AKe^xvS(0g  St  ouSi  <•;  rj) 
jtoxsi  jrfoo-sCaXsv.  Arrian,  p.  8 

17  Arrian,  p.  8,  ct  seq 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


426 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Thebes.  The  greater  part  of  the  citizens,  ex- 
ceeding thirty  thousand  in'  number,1  were 
either  put  to  the  sword  or  dragged  into  captivity. 
A feeble  remnant  escaped  to  Athens.  The  an- 
cient city  of  Cadmus  was  razed  to  the  ground  ; 
but  the  citadel  was  still  garrisoned  by  Macedo- 
nian troops,  and  long  maintained  as  a conve- 
nient post  for  overawing  the  adjacent  territory. 

The  severities  exercised  against  Thebes  were 
reluctantly  permitted  by  Alexander,  at  the  in- 
stigation of  the  Grecian  auxiliaries.2  The  few 
acts  of  forbearance  or  mercy,  which  appeared  in 
this  lamentable  transaction,  flowed  from  the 
humanity  of  his  own  nature.  By  his  particular 
orders,  the  house  and  family  of  Pindar  were 
saved  from  the  general  desolation.  He  com- 
manded likewise,  that  the  sacred  families  should 
be  spared,  as  well  as  those  connected  with  Ma- 
cedon  by  the  ties  of  hospitality ; and  as  he  is 
the  only  great  conqueror  who  built  many  more 
towns  than  he  destroyed,  he  took  care  that  the 
demolition  of  Thebes  should  be  immediately 
followed  by  the  restoration  of  Orchomenus  and 
Plataea.  Even  the  gloomiest  events  of  his  reign 
were  distinguished  by  some  flashes  of  light,  that 
displayed  his  magnanimity.  It  happened  in  the 
sack  of  Thebes,  that  a band  of  fierce  Thracians 
broke  into  the  house  of  Timoclea,  an  illustrious 
Theban  matron,  the  ornament  of  her  sex.  The 
soldiers  plundered  her  house;  their  brutal  com- 
mander violated  her  person.  Having  gratified 
his  lust,  he  was  next  stimulated  by  avarice,  and 
demanded  her  gold  and  silver.  She  conducted 
him  to  a garden,  and  showed  him  a well,  into 
which  she  pretended  to  have  thrown  her  most 
valuable  treasure.  With  blind  avidity,  he  stoop- 
ed to  grasp  it,  while  the  woman,  being  behind, 
pushed  him  headlong  into  the  cistern,  and  cov- 
ered him  with  stones.  Timoclea  was  seized  by 
the  soldiers,  and  carried  in  chains  to  Alexander. 
Her  firm  gait,  and  intrepid  aspect,  commanded 
the  attention  of  the  conqueror.  Having  learned 
her  crime,  Alexander  asked  her,  “Who  she 
was,  that  could  venture  to  commit  so  bold  a 
deed?”  “I  am,”  replied  she,  “the  sister  of 
Theagenes,  who  fell  at  Chaeronaea,  fighting 
against  Philip  in  defence  of  Grecian  freedom.” 
Alexander  admired  both  her  action  and  her  an- 
swer, and  desired  her  to  depart  free  with  her 
children.3  While  Alexander  returned  towards 
Macedon,  he  received  many  congratulatory  em- 
bassies from  the  Greeks.  Those  affected  most 
friendship  in  their  speeches,  who  had  most  en- 
mity in  their  hearts.  The  Athenians  sent  to 
deprecate  his  wrath  against  themselves,  and  to 
excuse  their  compassionate  treatment  of  the 
Theban  fugitives.  Alexander  demanded  the 
persons  of  Demosthenes,  Lycurgus,  Hyperides, 
and  five  other  orators,  to  whose  inflammatory 
speeches  he  ascribed  the  seditious  spirit  that  had 
recently  prevailed  in  Athens.  An  assembly  was 
immediately  summoned  to  deliberate  on  this 
demand  ; and  a decree  unanimously  passed  for 
trying  the  orators  accused  by  Alexander,  and  for 
inflicting  on  them  such  punishment  as  their  of- 

1 Accordin'?  to  the  lowest  computation,  Thebes  at  that 
time  contained  above  thirty  thousand  citizens.  Comp.  Dio- 
dor. Plut.  ibid.  ASlian.  Var.  Hist.  1.  xiii.  c.  vii.  Agathar- 
chid.  apud  Phot.  Bibl.  1337. 

2 Diodor.  1.  xvii.  p.  560. 

3 Blut.  de  Vit.  Alexand.  p.  7. 


[Chap. 

fences  should  appear  to  merit.  This  pretended 
forwardness  in  the  Athenians  to  avenge  his 
quarrel,  was  highly  agreeable  to  Alexander. 
The  artful  decree,  which  was  immediately 
transmitted  to  him,  was  rendered  still  more  ac- 
ceptable, by  being  delivered  by  Demades,  an 
avowed  friend  to  Macedon,  whom  the  party  of 
Demosthenes  bribed  with  five  talents  to  under- 
take this  useful  service.4  Amidst  the  various 
embassies  to  the  king,  the  Spartans  alone  pre- 
served a sullen,  or  magnanimous  silence.  Alex- 
ander treated  them  with  real,  or  well-affected 
contempt;  and,  without  deigning  to  require 
their  assistance,  prepared  for  the  greatest  en- 
terprise that  ever  was  undertaken  by  the  Gre- 
cian confederacy. 

q.  The  arrival  of  the  army  in  Ma- 

cx7  jP*  cedon  was  celebrated  with  all  the 

A PomP  °f  an  elegant  superstition.  A 

‘ faithful  image  of  the  Olympic  so- 
lemnity was  exhibited  in  the  ancient  city  of 
iEgae.  Continual  games  and  sacrifices  were 
performed  in  Dium,  during  the  space  of  nine 
days,  in  honour  of  the  Muses.  Alexander  en- 
tertained at  his  table  the  ambassadors  of  the 
Grecian  states,  together  with  the  principal  offi- 
cers of  his  army,  whether  Greeks  or  Macedoni- 
ans. In  the  interval  of  public  representations, 
he  discoursed  with  his  confidential  friends  con- 
cerning the  important  expedition  which  chiefly 
occupied  his  thoughts.  Parmenio  and  Antipa- 
ter, the  most  respected  of  his  father's  counsel- 
lors, exhorted  him  not  to  march  into  the  East, 
until  by  marriage,  and  the  birth  of  a son,  he 
had  provided  a successor  to  the  monarchy.  But 
the  ardent  patriotism  of  Alexander  disdained 
every  personal  consideration.  He  remembered 
that  he  was  elected  general  of  the  Greeks,  and 
that  he  commanded  the  invincible  troops  of  his 
father.5 

Having  entrusted  to  Antipater 
the  affairs  of  Greece  and  Macedon, 
and  committed  to  that  general  an 
army  of  above  twenty  thousand 
men,6  to  maintain  domestic  tranquillity  in  those 
countries,  he  departed  early  in  the  spring,  at 
the  head  of  above  five  thousand  horse,  and 
somewhat  more  than  thirty  thousand  infantry.7 
In  twenty  days  march,  he  arrived  at  Sestos,  on 
the  Hellespont.  From  thence  the  army  was 
conveyed  to  Asia,  in  a hundred  and  sixty  gal- 
leys, and  probably  a still  greater  number  of 
transports.  The  armament  landed  without 
opposition  on  the  Asiatic  coast;  the  Persians, 
though  long  ago  apprised  of  the  intended  inva- 
sion, having  totally  neglected  the  defence  of 
their  western  frontier. 

The  cause  of  this  negligence  resulted,  in 
some  degree  perhaps,  from  the  character  of  the 
prince,  but  still  more  from  that  of  the  nation. 


Olymp. 
cxi.  3. 

A.  C.  334. 


4 The  circumstances  of  this  transaction  are  differently 
related  by  all  the  authors  who  ment  on  it.  Compare  Dio- 
dorus, 1.  xvii.  p.  493.  A2schin.  in  Ctes;phont.  Pint,  in  Vit. 
Alexand.  et  Arrian,  1.  i.  p.  II.  In  military  affairs  Arrian’s 
au'horitv  stands  unrivalled;  but  Aeschines,  a contemporary 
orator,  must  have  been  better  informed  concerning  the  civil 
transactions  of  the  Athenians. 

5 Diodor.  1.  xvii.  p.  499. 

6 Diodorus,  who  enters  into  some  detail  on  this  subject, 
says,  twelve  thousand  infantry,  and  eleven  thousand  five 
hundred  cavalry. 

7 Arrian,  p.  12 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


427 


XXXVII.] 


Codomannus  had  been  raised  by  assassinations 
and  intrigues  to  the  throne  of  Persia,  about  the 
same  time  that  Alexander  succeeded  his  father 
Philip.  The  first  year  of  his  reign  had  been 
employed  in  stifling  domestic  rebellion,  in  secur- 
ing, and  afterwards  in  displaying,  the  fruits  of 
victory.  This  prince  assumed  the  appellation 
of  Darius,  but  could  not  recall  the  principles  or 
manners  which  distinguished  his  countrymen, 
during  the  reign  of  the  first  monarch  of  that 
name.  In  the  space  of  about  two  hundred  and 
thirty  years,  the  Persians  had  been  continually 
degenerating  from  the  virtues  which  character- 
ize a poor  and  warlike  nation,  without  acquir- 
ing any  of  those  arts  and  improvements  which 
usually  attend  peace  and  opulence.  Their  em- 
pire, as  extended  by  Darius  Hystaspes,  still 
embraced  the  most  valuable  portion  of  Asia  and 
Africa.  The  revenue  paid  in  money  was  still 
estimated,  as  during  the  reign  of  that  monarch, 
at  fourteen  thousand  five  hundred  and  sixty 
Eubceic  talents.  Immensd  treasures  had  been 
accumulated  in  Damascus,  Arbela,  Susa,  Per- 
sepolis,  Ecbatan,  and  other  great  cities  of  the 
empire.  The  revenue  paid  in  kind  cannot  be 
appreciated;  but  such  was  the  extraordinary 
opulence  of  this  great  monarchy,  that  the  con- 
quests of  Alexander  are  supposed  to  have  given 
him  an  income  of  sixty  millions  sterling  ;8  a 
sum  which  will  admit  allowance  for  exaggera- 
tion, and  still  appear  sufficiently  great. 

Although  the  extravagance  and  vices  of  Susa, 
Babylon,  and  other  imperial  cities,  correspond- 
ed to  the  extent  and  wealth  of  the  monarchy, 
yet  the  Persians  were  prepared  for  destruction 
rather  by  their  ignorance  of  the  arts  of  peace 
and  war,  than  by  their  effeminacy  and  luxury. 
The  provinces,  moreover,  had  ceased  to  main- 
tain any  regular  communication  with  the  capi- 
tal, or  with  each  other.  The  standing  military 
force  proved  insufficient  to  keep  in  awe  the  dis- 
tant satraps,  or  viceroys.  The  ties  of  a common 
religion  and  language,  or  the  sense  of  a public 
interest,  had  never  united  into  one  system  this 
discordant  mass  of  nations,  which  was  ready 
to  crumble  into  pieces  at  the  touch  of  an  inva- 
der. When  to  these  unfavourable  circumstances 
we  join  the  reflection,  that  under  the  younger 
Cyrus,  twelve  thousand  Greeks  baffled  the 
arms,  and  almost  divided  the  empire  of  Persia, 
we  shall  not  find  much  reason  to  admire  the 
magnanimity  of  Alexander  in  undertaking  his 
eastern  expedition  ; unless  we  are  at  the  same 
time  apprised,  that  Darius  was  deemed  a brave 
and  generous  prince,  beloved  by  his  Persian 
subjects,  and  assisted  by  the  valour  of  fifty 
thousand  Greek  mercenaries.9 

Having  arrived  in  Asia,  Alexander,  than 
whom  none  ever  employed  more  successfully 
the  power  of  superstition,10  confirmed  the  confi- 
dence of  his  followers  by  many  auspicious  pre- 
dictions and  prodigies.  While,  with  every  mi- 
litary precaution,  he  pursued  his  march  along 
the  coast,  Arsites,  Spithridates,  Memnon,  and 
other  governors  of  the  maritime  provinces,  as- 
sembled in  the  town  of  Zeleia,  distant  sixty 
miles  from  the  Hellespont.  They  had  neglected 


to  oppose  the  invasion  by  their  superior  fleet ; 
they  had  allowed  the  enemy  to  encamp,  unmo- 
lested, on  their  coasts ; fear  now  compelled 
them  to  reluctant  union ; but  jealousy  made 
them  reject  the  most  reasonable  plan  of  defence. 

This  was  proposed  by  Memnon  the  Rhodian, 
the  ablest  general  in  the  service  of  Darius.  He 
observed  the  danger  of  resisting  the  Macedonian 
infantry,  who  were  superior  in  number,  and 
encouraged  by  the  presence  of  their  king.  That 
the  invaders,  fiery  and  impetuous,  were  now 
animated  by  hope,  but  would  lose  courage  on 
the  first  disappointment.  Destitute  of  maga- 
zines and  resources,  their  safety  depended  on 
sudden  victory.  It  was  the  interest  of  the  Per- 
sians, on  the  other  hand,  to  protract  the  war, 
above  all  to  avoid  a general  engagement. 
Without  risking  the  event  of  a battle,  they  had 
other  means  to  check  the  progress  of  the  inva- 
ders. For  this  purpose,  they  ought  to  trample 
down,  the  corn  with  their  numerous  cavalry, 
destroy  all  other  fruits  of  the  ground,  and  deso- 
late the  whole  country,  without  sparing  the 
towns  and  villages.  Some  rejected  this  advice, 
as  unbecoming  the  dignity  of  Persia;11  Arsites, 
governor  of  Lesser  Phrygia,  declared  with  in- 
dignation, that  he  would  never  permit  the  pro- 
perty of  his  subjects  to  be  ravaged  with  impu- 
nity. These  sentiments  the  more  easily  pre- 
vailed, because  many  suspected  the  motives  of 
Memnon.  It  was  determined,  therefore,  by  this 
council  of  princes,  to  assemble  their  respective 
forces  with  all  possible  expedition,  and  to  en- 
camp on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  Granicus,  a 
river  (midway  between  Zeleia  and  the  Helles- 
pont) which,  issuing  from  Mount  Ida,  falls  into 
the  Propontis. 

The  scouts  of  Alexander  having 
cx^  brought  him  intelligence  of  the  ene- 

A r ’ ‘VXA  my’s  design,  he  immediately  ad- 
vanced to  give  them  battle.  The 
phalanx  marched  by  its  flank  in  a double  line,12 
the  cavalry  on  the  wings,  the  wagons  and 
baggage  in  the  rear.  The  advanced  guard, 
consisting  of  horsemen  armed  with  pikes,  and 
five  hundred  light  infantry,  the  whole  com- 
manded by  Hegelochus,  were  detached  to  ex- 
amine the  fords  of  the  Granicus,  and  to  observe 
the  disposition  of  the  enemy.  They  returned 
with  great  celerity,  to  acquaint  Alexander,  that 
the  Persians  were  advantageously  posted  on  the 
opposite  bank,  their  horse  amounting  to  twenty 
thousand,  and  their  foreign  mercenaries,  drawn 
up  on  the  slope  of  a rising  ground,  behind  the 
cavalry,  scarcely  less  numerous.  Notwithstand- 
ing this  alarming  intelligence,  the  young  prince 
determined  to  pass  the  river.  Having  advanced 
within  sight  of  the  hostile  ranks,  his  horse 
spread  to  the  right  and  left,  the  massy  column 
of  infantry  opened,  and  the  whole  formed  along 
the  bank  in  order  of  battle.  The  phalanx, 
divided  into  eight  sections,  composed  the  main 
body,  which  occupied  the  centre  ; the  Mace- 
donian cavalry  formed  the  right  wing ; the 
Grecian,  the  left. 


11,  Ai/aSiov  thc  Thgiruv  f/tyxk o^vy,ix;t  “ Unworthy  the 
musrnunimitv  of  Persia.”  Diodor.  p.  501. 

12  The  £*5t m is  explained  in  this  sense  by 

i^Elian  and  Arrian.  In  ordinary  eases  the  phalanst  marched 
by  its  fl  nk,  that  is,  with  a front  of  *i«uk*i  men.  The  wXi* 
Qxkxy'c,  therefore,  contained  a frot.l  c thirty-two  meu. 


8 Justin,  xiii.  1. 

9 Arrian,  Diodorus,  and  Curtius. 

10  Plut.  Curtius,  and  Arrian,  passim. 


428 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE 


While  Alexander  made  these  dispositions,  the 
cautious  Parmenio  approached,  ard  remon- 
strated against  passing  the  Granicus  in  the  face 
of  an  enemy.  The  river,  he  observed,  was  deep 
and  full  of  eddies  ; its  banks  abrupt  and  craggy; 
“ it  would  be  impossible,  therefore,  to  march 
the  Macedonians  in  front,  and  if  they  advanced 
in  columns,  their  flanks  must  be  exposed  naked 
and  defenceless.  T o try  such  dangerous  manoeu- 
vres seemed  unnecessary  in  the  present  junc- 
ture, because  the  Barbarians  would  certainly 
quit  their  station  in  the  night,  rather  than  re- 
main encamped  in  the  neighbourhood  of  so  for- 
midable an  army.”  These  prudential  consider- 
ations prevailed  not  with  Alexander,  who  de- 
clared that,  in  the  first  conflict,  the  Macedo- 
nians must  act  with  equal  promptitude  and 
vigour,  and  perform  something  worthy  of  the 
terror  which  they  bore.  Saying  this,  he  sprung 
on  his  horse,  assumed  the  command  of  the  right 
wing,  and  committed  the  left  to  Parmenio. 

Animated  by  the  hope  of  soon 
g"*  closing  with  the  enemy,  he  dis- 
A C 334  Gained  to  employ  his  military  en- 
gines. The  balistas  and  catapults, 
by  which,  in  a similar  situation,  he  had  repelled 
the  Taulantii,  were  rejected  as  tedious  or  in- 
effectual. Alexander  distributed  his  orders  ; a 
dreadful  silence  ensued ; the  hostile  armies  be- 
held each  other  with  resentment  or  terror. 
This  solemn  pause  was  interrupted  by  the  Ma- 
cedonian trumpet,  which,  on  a signal  given  by 
Alexander,  resounded  from  every  part  of  the 
line.  His  brother  Ptolemy,  as  had  been  pre- 
viously regulated,  then  rode  forth  at  the  head 
of  a squadron  of  cuirassiers,1  followed  by  two 
bodies  of  light  dragoons,  and  a battalion  of  in- 
fantry commanded  by  Amvntas.  While  these 
troops  boldly  entered  the  Granicus,  Alexander 
likewise  advanced  with  the  chosen  cavalry  on 
the  right  wing,  followed  by  the  archers  and 
Agrians.  In  passing  the  river,  both  Alexander 
and  Ptolemy  led  their  troops  obliquely  down 
the  current,  to  prevent,  as  much  as  possible,  the 
Persians  from  attacking  them  in  flank,  as  they 
successively  reached  the  shore.  The  Persian 
cavalry  behaved  with  courage  ; the  first  squad- 
rons of  the  Macedonians  were  driven  back  into 
the  stream.  But  Alexander,  who  animated  the 
Companions2  with  his  voice  and  arm,  main- 
tained his  ground  on  the  bank,  and  thought  he 
had  gained  the  battle,  when  he  obtained  an  op- 
portunity of  fighting.  In  the  equestrian  en- 
gagement which  followed,  the  Macedonians 
owed  much  to  their  skilful  evolutions  and  dis- 
cipline ;3  still  more  to  their  strength  and  cou- 
rage ; and  not  a little  to  the  excellence  of  their 
weapons,  which  being  made  of  the  cornel- 


1 I have  used  this  word  to  express  those  troops  which 
the  Greeks  called  Cataphracts,  from  the  completeness  of 
their  defensive  armour.  Milton  mentions  them  in  Samson 
Agonistes, 

“ Archers  and  slingera,  Cataphracts  and  spears.” 

2 The  eight  «quadrons  of  chosen  cavalry,  which  were  of 
that  kind  called  Ca'aohracts,  were  honoured  with  the  name 
of  Companions  and  friends  of  the  king.  Arrian  and  Diodor, 
passim. 

3 They  derived  great  advantages,  particularly  from  the 
light  infantry  intermixed  with  their  squadrons.  The  target- 
eers  and  Agrians  proved  extremely  useful  in  helping  the 
Macedonians  to  keep  off  the  Persian  cavalry,  which,  when 
too  near,  hindered  thorn  from  the  projier  use  of  their  lances. 


[Chap. 

tree,4  far  surpassed  the  brittle  javelins  of  the 
enemy. 

Mean  while  Parmenio  crossed  the  Granicus. 
at  the  head  of  the  left  wing,  with  equal  success, 
but  unequal  glory,  because  Alexander  had  al- 
ready proved,  by  his  example,  that  the  difficulty 
might  be  overcome,  which  would  have  other- 
wise appeared  unsurmountable.  The  attention 
of  the  enemy  was  so  deeply  engaged  by  the 
successive  attacks  of  the  cavalry,  that  they 
seem  not  to  have  made  much  opposition  to  the 
passage  of  the  phalanx.  But  before  this  pow- 
erful body  of  infantry  had  crossed  the  river,  the 
Macedonian  horse  had  already  reaped  the  fair- 
est honours  of  the  field.  Alexander  animated 
them  by  his  presence,  and,  after  performing  all 
the  duties  of  a great  general,  displayed  such 
personal  acts  of  prowess  as  will  be  more  readily 
admired  than  believed  by  the  modern  reader. 
But  in  the  close  combats  of  antiquity,  the  forces, 
when  once  thoroughly  engaged,  might  be  safely 
abandoned  to  the  direction  of  their  own  re- 
sentment and  courage,  while  the  commanders 
displayed  the  peculiar  accomplishments  to  which 
they  had  been  trained  from  their  youth,  in  the 
more  conspicuous  parts  of  the  field.  Alexander 
was  easily  distinguished  by  the  brightness  of  his 
armour,  and  the  admirable  alacrity  of  his  at- 
tendants. The  bravest  of  the  Persian  nobles 
impatiently  waited  his  approach.  He  darted 
into  the  midst  of  them,  and  fought  till  he  broke 
his  spear.  Having  demanded  a new  weapon 
from  Aretes,  his  master  of  horse;  Aretes  showed 
him  his  own  spear,  which  likewise  was  broken. 
Demaratus  the  Corinthian  supplied  the  king 
with  a weapon.  Thus  armed,  he  rode  up,  and 
assaulted  Mithridates,  son-in-law  of  Darius, 
who  exulted  before  the  hostile  ranks.  While 
Alexander  beat  him  to  the  ground,  he  was  him- 
self struck  by  Rsesaces  with  a hatchet.  His 
helmet  saved  his  life.  He  pierced  the  breast  of 
Rsesaces ; but  a new  danger  threatened  him 
from  the  scimitar  of  Spithridates.  The  instru- 
ment of  death  already  descended  on  his  head, 
when  Clitus  cut  off  the  arm  of  Spithridates, 
which  fell  with  the  grasped  weapon. 

The  heroism  of  Alexander  animated  the 
valour  of  the  Companions,  and  the  enemy  first 
fled  where  the  king  commanded  in  person.  Tn 
the  left  wing,  the  Grecian  cavalry  must  have 
behaved  with  distinguished  merit,  since  the 
Persians  had  begun  on  every  side  to  give  way 
before  the  Macedonian  infantry  had  completely 
passed  the  river.5  The  stern  aspect  of  the 
phalanx,  shining  in  steel  and  bristling  with 
spears,  confirmed  the  victory.  Above  a thou- 
sand Persian  horse  were  slain  in  the  pursuit. 
The  foot,  consisting  chiefly  in  Greek  mercena- 
ries, still  continued  in  their  first  position,  not 
firm,  but  inactive,  petrified  by  astonishment, 
not  steady  through  resolution.6  While  the 


4 At  myrtua  validis  hastilibus  et  bona  bello 

Cornus.  Virg.  Georg,  ii.  v.  447. 

5 Guischardt,  p.  208.  savs,  “Aussitot  que  la  phalange 
fut  en  6tat  d’agir  contre  1’ennemie.  avec  tout  son  front 
herissC  de  piques,  la  vietoire  ressa  d’etre  doutense.”  It  ap- 
pears not,  however,  that  the  phalanx  at  all  acted  aeainst  the 
Persian  cavalry.  The  battle  of  Granicus  was  entirely  an 
equestrian  engagement,  as  had  been  prophesied  to  Alex- 
ander by  his  namesake,  a priest  of  Minerva  in  the  Troade. 
See  Diodor.  I.  xvii.  p.  571. 

6 ExwMifc**  (takk or  t»  row  iragaktyov,  a koytr/tm 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE 


429 


XXXVII.] 

phalanx  attacked  them  in  front,  the  victorious 
cavalry  assailed  their  flanks.  Surrounded  on 
all  sides,  they  fell  an  easy  prey  ; two  thousand 
surrendered  prisoners ; the  rest  all  perished, 
unless  a few  stragglers  perchance  lurked  among 
the  slain. 

The  battle  of  the  Granicus  proved  fatal  to 
most  of  the  Persian  commanders.  Arsites,  the 
chief  adviser  of  the  engagement,  died  in  de- 
spair by  his  own  hand.  The  generals  Niphates 
and  Petenes,  Omares  leader  of  the  mercenaries, 
Spithridates  satrap  of  Lydia,  Mithrobuzanes 
governor  of  Cappadocia,  Mithridates,  son-in- 
law  of  Darius,  and  Arbupales  son  of  Artaxerxes, 
were  numbered  among  the  slain.  Such  illus- 
trious names  might  lead  us  to  suspect,  that  the 
Persians  were  still  more  numerous  than  Arrian7 
represents  them  ; and,  notwithstanding  the  na- 
ture of  ancient  weapons  and  tactics,  which 
rendered  every  battle  a route,  and  commonly 
prevented  the  retreat  of  the  vanquished,  it  is 
scarcely  to  be  believed,  that  in  such  an  impor- 
tant engagement,  Alexander  should  have  lost 
only  eighty-five  horsemen,  and  thirty  light  in- 
infantry A Of  the  former,  twenty -five  belong- 
ed to  the  royal  band  of  Companions.  By  com- 
mand of  Alexander,  their  statues  were  formed 
by  the  art  of  his  admired  Lysippus, 9 and  erected 
in  the  Macedonian  city  of  Dium. 

This  important  victory  enabled  Alexander  to 
display  both  his  humanity  and  his  prudence. 
He  declared  the  parents  and  children  of  the 
deceased  thenceforth  exempted  from  every  spe- 
cies of  tribute.10  He  carefully  visited  the 
wounded,  attentively  asked  how  each  of  them 
had  received  harm,  and  heard  with  patience  and 
commendation  their  much  boasted  exploits. 
The  Persian  commanders  were  interred  ; and 
the  Greeks,  both  officers  and  soldiers.  The 
Grecian  captives  were  condemned  to  work  in 
the  Thracian  mines,  as  a punishment  for  bear- 
ing arms  against  the  cause  of  their  country. 
But  even  this  severity  Alexander  softened  by 
a very  seasonable  compliment  to  theiAthenians, 
whose  city  he  preferred  to  be  the  repository  of 
his  trophies  and  renown.  Immediately  after 
the  battle,  he  sent  three  hundred  suits  of  Per- 
sian armour,  as  dedications  to  Minerva  in  the 


{ZeZxtvui.  Arrian.  It  might  be  suspected  that  the  Greek 
mercenaries  were  not  very  hearty  in  the  Persian  cause,  and 
hail  delayed  declaring  themselves  till  they  beheld  the  issue 
of  the  equestrian  engagement.  This  is  conjectured  by 
Guischarrlt  in  his  admirable  Memoires  Militaires,  p.  208. 
But  the  fidelity  of  their  countrymen  to  Darius  on  all  subse- 
quent occasions,  as  well  as  the  severe  treatment  they  met 
with  in  the  present  battle,  seem  suflicient  to  remove  that 
dishonourable  suspicion.  Their  conduct,  seemingly  unac-. 
countable,  is  ascribed,  by  Arrian,  to  their  astonishment,  that 
Alexander’s  cavalry  should  have  passed  the  Granicus,  and 
repelled  the  Persian  horse,  which  was  four  times  more  nu- 
merous. 

7 Diodorus.  1.  xvii.  p.  572,  makes  them  amount  to  one 
hundred  and  ten  thousand.  Justin  is  quite  extravagant. 
The  Persians,  he  says,  were  six  hundred  thousand. 

8 Others  diminished  the  loss  to  thirty-five  horsemen  and 
nine  foot  soldiers.  Aristobul.  apud  Pint,  in  Vit.  Alexand. 

9 Arrian  says,  oa-7rig  **i  A\t%xv$gov  fiovot:  irgoxgi5(t$ 

1 7ro * c i , “ Who  was  alone  preferred  to  make  the  imnge  of 

Alexander.”  This,  doubtless,  increased  the  honour  con- 
ferred on  the  Companions.  Arrian  would  have  spoken  more 
accurately,  had  he  said,  “ to  cast  the  figure  of  Alexander 
in  bronze.”  Other  artists  represented  him  in  marble,  in 
gems,  medals,  &c.  of  which  hereafter. 

10  Arrian  distinguishes  to>  m ofinn  kuto ugytaq  ; xn 
x*t*  xrijirsif  iirqogutsy  personal  services;  and  con- 
tributions, in  proportion  to  their  property. 


citadel.  This  magnificent  present  was  inscribed 
with  the  following  words  : w Gained  by  Alex- 
ander, son  of  Philip,  and  the  Greeks  (except 
the  Lacedaemonians,)  from  the  Barbarians  of 
Asia.”  It  is  remarkable,  that  on  this  occasion 
he  omits  mention  of  the  Macedonians,  whether 
because  he  wished  them  to  be  comprehended 
under  the  name  of  Greeks  ; or  because,  in  the 
Persian  war,  he  always  affected  rather  to  avenge 
the  cause  of  Greece,  than  to  gratify  his  own 
ambition ; or,  finally,  that  the  Greeks  being 
thus  exclusively  associated  to  his  honours,  might 
thenceforth  continue  zealous  in  making  new 
levies  for  his  service. 

The  battle  of  the  Granicus  opened  to  Alex- 
ander the  conquest  of  Iona,  Caria,  Phrygia  ; in 
a word,  all  the  Asiatic  provinces  west  of  the 
river  Halys,  which  had  anciently  formed  the 
powerful  monarchy  of  the  Lydians.  Many  of 
the  walled  towns  surrendered  at  his  approach. 
Sardis,  the  splendid  capital  of  Croesus,  opened 
its  gates  to  a deliverer,  and  once  more  obtained 
the  privilege  of  being  governed  by  its  ancient 
laws,  after  reluctantly  enduring,  above  two 
centuries,  the-cruel  yoke  of  Persia.  The  Gre- 
cian cities  on  the  coast  were  delivered  from  the 
burden  of  tribute  and  the  oppression  of  garri- 
sons ; and,  under  the  auspices  of  a prince,  who 
admired  their  ancient  glory  in  arts  and  arms, 
resumed  the  enjoynient  of  their  hereditary  free- 
dom. During  the  Persian  expedition  of  Alex- 
ander, the  Ephesians  were  still  employed  in 
rebuilding  their  temple,  which  had  been  set  on 
fire  by  Heroslratus,  twenty  years  before  that 
period,  and  on  the  same  night,  it  is  said,  which 
gave  birth  to  the  destined  conqueror  of  the 
East.  Alexander  encouraged  their  pious  and 
honourable  undertaking ; and,  in  order  to  ac- 
celerate its  progress,  commanded  the  tribute 
which  had  been  paid  to  the  Persian’s,  to  be  ap- 
propriated to  the  temple  of  Diana.11 

Miletus  and  Halicarnassus  alone  retarded  the 
progress  of  the  conqueror.  The  latter  place, 
commanded  by  Memnon  the  Rhodian,  made  a 
memorable  defence.  Alexander  had  scarcely 
set  down  before  it,  when  the  garrison,  consist- 
ing of  Greeks  and  Persians,  sallied  forth,  and 
maintained  a desperate  conflict.  Having  re- 
pelled them  with  much  difficulty,  he  undertook 
the  laborious  work  of  filling  up  a ditch  thirty 
cubits  broad,  and  fifteen  deep,  which  the  be- 
sieged, with  incredible  diligence,  had  drawn 
round  their  wall.  This  being  effected,  he  ad- 
vanced wooden  towers,  on  which  the  Macedo- 
nians erected  their  battering  engines,  and  pre- 
pared to  assault  the  enemy  on  equal  ground. 
But  a nocturnal  sally  attacked  these  prepara- 
tions ; a second  engagement  was  fought  with 
still  greater  fury  than  the  first;  three  hundred 
Macedonians  were  wounded,  darkness  prevent- 
ing their  usual  precaution  in  guarding  their 
bodies.12 

A few  days  afterwards,  Halicarnassus,  which 
had  so  obstinately  resisted  skill  and  courage, 
was  on  the  point  of  yielding  to  rashness  and 
accident.  The  battalion  of  Perdiccas  happened 
to  be  posted  on  that  side  of  the  wall,  which 
looked  towards  Miletus.  Two  soldiers,  belong- 

11  Comp.  Arrinn.  p.  18.  et  Sttub.  p.  049 

12  Arrian,  p.  20. 


430 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


,'ng  to  this  corps,  while  they  supped  together  in 
their  tent,  boasted  their  military  exploits  ; each, 
as  usual,  preferring  his  own.  Wine  heated 
their  emulation.  They  rushed  forth  to  assault 
the  wall  of  Halicarnassus,  animated  less  with 
the  mad  hope  of  victory,  than  with  an  ambition 
to  display  their  respective  prowess.  The  sen- 
tinels perceived  their  audacity,  and  prepared  to 
repel  them,  but  they  killed  the  first  men  who 
approached,  and  threw  javelins  at  others  who 
followed  them.  Before  their  boldness  was 
overwhelmed  by  numbers,  many  soldiers  be- 
longing to  the  same  battalion  advanced  to  their 
relief.  The  Halicarnassians,  also,  hastened  to 
the  defence  of  their  friends  ; a sharp  conflict 
ensued  ; the  garrison  was  repelled  ; the  wall  at- 
tacked ; two  towers  and  the  intervening  curtain 
thrown  down  ; and  had  greater  numbers  joined 
in  the  assault,  the  town  must  have  been  taken 
by  storm.1 

. The  humanity  of  Alexander  ren- 

cxj  gP*  dered  him  unwilling  to  come  to 
A C * 334  ^at  extremity*  But  the  extraordi- 
nary success  of  such  an  unpreme- 
ditated enterprise,  engaged  him  to  ply  the  walls 
with  new  vigour.  The  defence  was  as  obsti- 
nate as  before  ; two  desperate  sallies  were  made, 
and  repelled  with  consummate  bravery.  Alex-’ 
ander’s  tenderness  for  the  Halicarnassians  pre- 
vented him  from  entering  the  place  with  an  en- 
raged and  licentious  soldiery.  He  therefore 
recalled  his  troops  in  the  moment  of  victory, 
hoping  that  the  besieged  would  finally  surren- 
der, and  thus  save  their  lives  and  properties. 
From  the  various  breaches  in  the  walls,  and  the 
numbers  who  had  perished,  or  been  wounded,  in 
repeated  conflicts,  Memnon  and  his  colleagues 
perceived,  that  much  longer  resistance  was  im- 
possible. Tn  this  emergency  they  displayed  the 
same  decisive  boldness  which  had  appeared  in 
every  part  of  their  defence.  Having  summoned 
the  bravest  of  their  adherents,  they,  in  the 
night-time,  set  fire  to  a wooden  tower,  which 
they  had  erected  for  defence  against  the  shocks 
of  the  enemy’s  engines,  and  for  protection  to 
their  arsenal  and  magazines,  and  escaped  to  two 
neighbouring  castles  of  great  strength.  About 
midnight,  Alexander  perceived  the  raging  flames, 
and  immediately  sent  a detachment  to  punish 
those  who  had  excited,  or  who  fomented,  the 
conflagration ; but  with  strict  orders  to  spare 
such  of  the  townsmen  as  were  found  in  their 
houses.  Next  day,  he  examined  the  castles, 
and  perceived  that  they  could  not  be  taken 
without  much  loss  of  time;  but  that  indepen- 
dent of  the  town,  they  were  of  themselves  of 
little  value  ; a circumstance  which  obliged  him, 
reluctantly,  to  demolish  Halicarnassus,  that  it 
might  never  thenceforth  serve  as  a retreat  to 
his  enemies.2 

The  inactive  season  of  the  year  was  employed 
by  Alexander  in  securing  and  improving  his 
advantages.  The  inferior  cities  were  commit- 
ted to  the  discretion  of  his  lieutenants ; the 
king  in  person  visited  his  more  important  con- 
quests ; and  few  places  were  honoured  with  his 
presence  without  experiencing  his  bounty.  Be- 
fore leaving  Caria,  where  the  siege  of  Halicar- 


[Chap. 

nassus  long  detained  his  impatient  activity,  he 
committed  the  administration  to  Ada,  the  he- 
reditary governess  of  that  province.  Ada  was 
the  sister,  and  the  wife  of  Hidrieus,  on  whose 
decease  she  was  entitled  to  reign,  both  by  the 
Carian  laws  and  those  of  Upper  Asia,  where 
female  succession  had  been  established  ever 
since  the  age  of  Semiramis.  But  the  great 
king,  with  the  usual  caprice  of  a despot,  had 
rejected  the  just  claim  of  Ada,  and  seated  a 
pretender  on  her  tributary  throne.  The  in- 
jured princess,  however,  still  maintained  pos- 
session of  the  strongly  fortified  city  Alinda. 
When  Alexander  appeared  in  Caria,  Ada  has- 
tened to  meet  him,  addressed  him  by  the  name 
of  son,  and  voluntarily  surrendered  to  him 
Alinda.  The  king  neither  rejected  her  present, 
nor  declined  her  friendship  ; and,  as  he  always 
repaid  favours  with  interest,  he  committed  to 
her,  at  his  departure,  the  government  of  the 
whole  province,  and  left  a body  of  three  thou- 
sand foot  and  two  hundred  horse,  to  support 
her  authority. 

The  measures  of  Alexander  were  equally 
decisive  and  prudent.  The  Persian  fleet,  sup- 
plied by  Egypt,  Phoenicia,  and  the  maritime 
provinces  of  Lower  Asia,  four  times  outnum- 
bered his  own,  which,  small  as  it  was,  still  ap- 
peared too  expensive  for  his  treasury.  Alex- 
ander determined  to  discharge  it,  declaring  to 
his  lieutenants,  that  by  conquering  the  land,  he 
would  render  himself  master  of  the  sea,  since 
every  harbour  that  surrendered  to  him  must 
diminish  the  naval  resources  of  the  enemy.3 
Agreeably  to  this  judicious  plan  of  conquest, 
he  pursued  his  journey  through  the  southern 
provinces  of  the  Asiatic  peninsula,  while  Par- 
menio  traversed  the  central  countries  of  Lydia 
and  Phrygia.  At  the  same  time  Cleander  was 
despatched  into  Greece  to  raise  new  levies; 
and  such  soldiers  as  had  married  shortly  before 
the  expedition,  were  sent  home  to  winter  with 
their  wives ; a measure  which  extremely  en- 
deared Alexander  to  the  army,  and  ensured  the 
utmost  alacrity  of  his  European  subjects,  in 
furnishing  supplies  towards  the  ensuing  cam- 
paign. 

Accompanied  by  such  winning  arts,  the  va- 
lour and  prudence  of  Alexander  seemed  worthy 
to  govern  the  world.  His  conduct,  perhaps, 
often  proceeded  from  the  immediate  impulse  of 
sentiment ; but  it  could  not  have  been  more 
subservient  to  his  ambition,  had  it  been  invari- 
ably directed  by  the  deepest  policy.  After  the 
decisive  battle  of  the  Granicus,  he  experienced 
little  obstinacy  of  resistance  from  the  numer- 
ous forts  and  garrisons  in  Lower  Asia.  The 
tributary  princes  and  satraps  readily  submitted 
to  a milder  and  more  magnanimous  master; 
and  the  Grecian  colonies  on  the  coast  eagerly 
espoused  the  interest  of  a prince  who,  on  all 
occasions,  avowed  his  partiality  for  their  fa- 
vourite institutions.  In  every  province  or  city 
which  he  conquered,  he  restored  to  the  Asiatics 
their  hereditary  laws ; to  the  Greeks,  their  be- 
loved democracy.  While  he  allowed  them  to 


3 It  will  appear  in  the  sequel  how  faithfully  Alexander 
adhered  to  this  plan  of  war,  which  kept  open  his  commu- 
nication with  Greece  and  Macedon,  and  enabled  him  to 
pursue,  with  security  his  conquests  in  the  East. 


I Arrian,  p.  22. 


2 Ibid.  p.  23. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


431 


XXXVII.] 


assume  the  forms  of  independent  government, 
he  was  careful  to  bridle  the  animosity  of  do- 
mestic faction.  Into  whatever  country  he 
marched,  he  encouraged  useful  industry,  and 
alleviated  public  burdens.  His  taste  and  his 
piety  alike  prompted  him  to  repair  the  sacred 
and  venerable  remains  of  antiquity.  He  con- 
sidered the  Barbarians,  not  as  slaves,  but  as 
subjects  ; the  Greeks,  not  as  subjects,  but  al- 
lies; and  both  perceived  in  his  government  such 
moderation  and  equity  as  they  had  never  expe- 
rienced either  from  the  despotism  of  Persia,  or 
from  the  domineering  ambition  of  Athens  and 
Sparta.4 

Having  received  the  submission  of  Xanthus, 
Patara,  Phaselis,  and  above  thirty  other  towns 
or  sea-ports  in  Lycia,  Alexander,  probably  for 
the  sake  of  greater  expedition,  divided  the 
corps  under  his  immediate  command.  A con- 
siderable detachment  traversed  the  Lycian  and 
Pamphylian  mountains,  while  the  king  in  per- 
son pursued  the  still  more  dangerous  track, 
leading  along  the  sea-coast  from  Phaselis  to 
Perga.  On  this  foaming  shore,  the  sea  com- 
monly beats  against  the  rocks,  and  renders  the 
passage  impracticable,  unless  when  the  waves 
are  repelled  by  a strong  north  wind.  When 
Alexander  began  his  march,  the  wind  blew 
from  the  south.  Yet  he  advanced  without  fear, 
confiding  in  his  fortune.  Plis  troops  cheerfully 
followed  him,  encouraged  by  many  artful  pro- 
digies5 which  announced  success  to  his  under- 
taking. The  event  which  next  happened,  was 
well  fitted  to  strengthen  their  credulity,  and 
confirm  their  implicit  obedience.  Before  they 
had  reached  the  main  difficulties  of  the  pass, 
the  south  wind  gradually  ceased  ; a brisk  gale 
sprang  up  from  the  north  ; the  sea  retired  ; and 
their  march  thus  became  alike  easy  and  expe- 
ditious. The  authentic  evidence  of  Arrian  ex- 
plains the  marvellous  in  this  occurrence,  which 
Josephus,  with  no  less  indecency  than  folly, 
compares  with  the  passage  of  the  Israelites 
over  the  Red  Sea.  Yet  even  the  philosophical 
Arian  acknowledges,  that  the  many  concur- 
ring instances  of  good  fortune  in  the  life  of 
Alexander,  seemed  to  be  produced  by  the  im- 
mediate interposition  of  divine  power,  which, 
in  effecting  an  important  revolution  in  the 
Eastern  world,  rendered  the  operations  of  na- 
ture, and  the  volitions  of  men,  subservient  to 
the  secret  purposes  of  its  providence. 

In  proceeding  eastward  from  Perga,  Alexan- 
der was  met  by  ambassadors  from  Aspendus, 
the  principal  city  and  sea-port  of  Pamphylia. 
The  Aspendians  offered  to  surrender  their  city, 

4 Compare  Plut.  in  Alexand.  Curtins  et  Arrian,  passim  ; 
et  Thncydid.  Xenoph.  Isocrat.  et  Diodor. 

5 While  Alexandar  deliberated  whether  he  should  march 
forwards  to  attack  Darius,  a measure  which  promised  glory 

and  plunder  lo  his  troops,  or  proceed  along  the  sea-coast, 

and  reduce  the  maritime  cities,  which  would  prevent  the 
enemv  from  profiting  of  his  absence  in  Upper  Asia,  to  con- 
quer Greece  or  Macedon  with  their  fleet,  a fountain  near 
the  citv  Xanthus  in  Lvcia.  boiled  up,  and  threw  out  a cop- 
per-plate, engraved  with  ancient  characters,  signifying  that 
the  time  was  come  when  the  Persian  empire  should  be 
overthrown  by  the  Greeks.  Plutarch  adds,  tooto*?  jw-staSsi;, 
H7reiyiT0  mv  vxgxKtxv  xvxxx9*igx<r$xi.  “ Encouraged  bv 
this  prodigy,  he  hastened  to  subdue  the  coast.”  It  would 
perhaps  have  been  more  worthy  of  an  historian  to  say, 
“Encouraged  by  this  prodigy,  the  Greeks  and  Macedonians 
readily  obeyed  the  commands  of  their  prudent  not  less 
than  valiant  general.” 


but  entreated,  that  they  might  not  be  burdened 
with  a garrison.  Alexander  granted  their  re- 
quest, on  condition  of  their  raising  fifty  talents 
to  pay  his  soldiers,  and  delivering  to  him  the 
horses  which  they  reared  as  a tribute  for  Da- 
rius. The  ambassadors  accepted  these  terms  ; 
but  their  countrymen,  who  were  distinguished 
by  their  ambition  and  rapacity,  still  more  than 
by  their  commerce  and  their  wealth,  discovered 
no  inclination  to  fulfil  them.  Alexander  was 
informed  of  their  treachery  while  he  examined 
the  walls  of  Syllius,  another  strong  hold  of 
Pamphylia.  He  immediately  marched  towards 
Aspendus,  the  greater  part  of  which  was  situ- 
ate on  a high  and  steep  rock,  washed  by  the 
river  Eurymedon.  Several  streets,  however, 
were  likewise  built  on  the  plain,  surrounded 
only  by  a slight  wall.  At  the  approach  of  Al- 
exander, the  inhabitants  of  the  lower  part  of 
the  town  ascended  the  mountain.  Alexander 
entered  the  place,  and  encamped  within  the 
walls.  The  Aspendians,  alarmed  by  the  ap- 
prehension of  a siege,  entreated  him  to  accept 
the  former  conditions.  He  commanded  them 
to  deliver  the  horses,  as  agreed  on  ; to  pay,  in- 
stead of  fifty,  a hundred  talents;  and  to  sur- 
render their  principal  citizens  as  securities,  that 
they  would  thenceforth  obey  the  governor  set 
over  them  ; pay  an  annual  tribute  to  Macedon  ; 
and  submit  to  arbitration  a dispute  concerning 
some  lands,  which  they  were  accused  of  hav- 
ing unjustly  wrested  from  their  neighbours.6 

Having  chastised  the  insolence 
cxj^  and  treachery  of  Aspendus,  Alex- 

. * * ander  determined  to  march  into 

Phrygia,  that  he  might  join  forces 
with  Parmenio,  whom  he  had  commanded  to 
meet  him  in  that  country.  The  new  levies  from 
Greece  and  Macedon  were  likewise  ordered  to 
assemble  in  the  same  province  ; from  which  it 
was  intended,  early  in  the  spring,  to  proceed 
eastward,  and  achieve  still  more  important  con- 
quests. To  reaoh  the  southern  frontier  of 
Phrygia,  Alexander  was  under  a necessity  of 
traversing  the  inhospitable  mountains  of  the 
warlike  Pisidians.  Amidst  those  rocks  and 
fastnesses,  the  Macedonians  lost  several  brave 
men  ; but  the  undisciplined  fury,  and  unarmed 
courage,  of  the  Pisidians  were  unable  to  check 
the  progress  of  Alexander.  The  city  of  Gor- 
dium  in  Phrygia,  was  appointed  for  the  general 
rendezvous.  This  place  is  distant  about  se- 
venty-five miles  from  the  Euxine,  and  two  hun- 
dred and  forty  from  the  Cilician  sea ; and  was 
famous,  in  remote  antiquity,  as  the  principal 
residence  of  the  Phrygian  kings,  and  the  chief 
seat  of  their  opulence  and  grandeur.7  Alexan- 
der had  not  long  arrived  in  that  place,  when  a 
desire  seized  him  of  ascending  to  the  ancient 
castle  or  palace  of  Gordius,  and  of  beholding 
the  famous  knot  on  his  chariot,  which  was  be- 
lieved to  involve  the  fate  of  Asia.  Gordius, 
as  the  story  went,  was  a man  of  slender  for- 
tune among  the  ancient  Phrygians,  who  had 
but  a small  piece  of  land,  and  two  yokes  of 
oxen,  one  of  which  he  employed  in  the  plough, 
and  the  other  in  the  wagon.  It  happened  to 
Gordius,  while  he  was  one  day  ploughing,  that 


6 Arrian,  p.  26.  7 See  c.  vii.  p.  81. 


432 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


an  eagle  alighted  on  his  yoke,  and  sat  on  it  till 
evening.  Alarmed  by  the  prodigy,  Gordius 
had  recourse  to  the  Telmessians,  a people  in- 
habiting the  loftiest  mountains1  in  Pisidia,  and 
celebrated  over  all  the  neighbouring  countries 
for  their  skill  in  augury.  At  the  first  village 
of  the  Telmessians,  he  met  a virgin  drawing 
water  at  a fountain,  to  whom  having  commu- 
nicated his  errand,  she  ordered  him  to  ascend 
the  hill,  and  there  sacrifice  to  Jupiter.  'Gor- 
dius  entreated  her  to  accompany  him,  that  the 
sacrifice  might  be  performed  in  due  form.  She 
obeyed.  Gordius  took  her  to  wife.  She  bore 
him  a son,  Midas,  who,  when  he  arrived  at 
manhood,  was  distinguished  by  his  beauty  and 
valour.  It  should  seem  that  the  father  of  Mi- 
das had,  in  consequence  of  his  marriage,  set- 
tled among  the  Telmessians,  with  whose  arts 
his  son  would  naturally  become  acquainted. 
The  Phrygians,  at  that  time,  were  harassed  by 
cruel  seditions  ; they  consulted  an  oracle,  who 
told  them,  that  a chariot  should  soon  bring  them 
a king,  who  would  appease  their  tumults. 
While  the  assembly  still  deliberated  on  the  an- 
swer given  them  by  the  oracle,  Midas  arrived 
in  his  chariot2  accompanied  by  his  parents. 
The  appearance  of  Midas  justified  the  predic- 
tion, and  announced  him  worthy  of  royalty. 
The  Phrygians  elected  him  king ; their  sedi- 
tions ceased  ; and  Midas,  in  gratitude  to  Jupi- 
ter, consecrated  his  father’s  chariot,  and  sus- 
pended it  by  a cord  made  of  the  inner  rind  of 
the  cornel-tree,  the  knot  of  which  was  so  nicely 
tied,  that  no  eye  could  perceive  where  it  began 
or  ended.  Whether  Alexander  untied,  or  cut 
the  knot,  is  left  uncertain  by  historians  ;3  but 
all  agree  that  his  followers  retired  with  com- 
plete conviction  that  he  had  fulfilled  the  oracle. 
A seasonable  storm  of  thunder  confirmed  their 
credulity  ;4  and  the  belief,  that  their  master  was 
destined  to  be  lord  of  Asia,  could  not  fail  to 
facilitate  that  event. 

The  rapid  progress  of  Alexander,  and  his 
continual  exertions  during  that  season  of  the 
year  when  armies  are  little  accustomed  to  keep 
the  field,  tends  to  heighten  our  surprise  at  the 
inactivity  of  Darius,  an  ambitious  prince,  who 
had  signalized  his  valour  against  the  fiercest 
nations  of  Asia.  But  Darius,  corrupted  by  the 
honours  of  royalty,  employed  very  different 
weapons  against  Alexander,  from  those  by 
which  the  champion  of  Ochus  had  defeated  the 
warlike  chief  of  the  Cardusians.5  Instead  of 
opposing  the  invader  in  the  field,  he  hoped  to 
destroy  him  by  the  arm  of  an  assassin.  Many 


1 Arrian,  p.  27, calls  it  u5rig*.J/n\ov, xx»  5rx»m  xvotoucv. 
“ Exceedingly  high  and  every  where  abrupt.”  But  in  Gor- 
dius’s time  at  least,  the  Telmessians  must  have  possessed 
some  villages  on  the  plain.  See  Arrian,  p.  30. 

2 The  Greek  word  expresses  either  a chariot  or 

a wagon.  Perhaps  neither  the  name,  nor  the  thing,  were 
then  distinguished  in  Phrygia.  Curtius  tells  us,  this 

was  “ cultu  baud  sane  a vilioribus  vulgatisque  usu  abhor- 
rens,”  1.  iii.  c.  i.  p.  10. 

3 Curtius  1.  iii.  c.  i.  says,  he  cut  it  with  his  sword.  Plu- 
tarch says  he  untied  it.  Vit.  Alexand.  p.  1236.  Arrian 
gives  both  accounts ; and  the  latter  on  the  authority  of 
Aristobulus,  which  is  therefore  the  more  probable. 

4 Arrian,  p.  31. 

5 Darius  killed  a warrior  of  that  nation  who  challenged 

the  bravest  of  the  Persians  to  single  combat.  This  exploit 
gained  him  the  government  of  Armenia,  and  made  him  be 

afterwards  deemed  worthy  of  the  Persian  throne.  Diodor. 

L xvii.  p.  565. 


[Chap. 

traitors  were  suborned  for  this  infamous  pur- 
pose, but  none  with  greater  prospect  of  success 
than  Alexander,  the  son  of  iEropus.  This  man 
owed  his  life  to  the  clemency  of  the  son  of  Phi- 
lip, when  his  brothers  Heromenes  and  Arrabseus 
were  condemned  as  accessory  to  the  murder  of 
that  prince.  He  was  numbered  among  the 
companions  of  Alexander,  and  had  recently 
been  entrusted  with  the  command  of  the  Thes- 
salian cavalry,  after  the  nomination  of  Calas, 
who  held  that  high  office,  to  the  government  of 
Phrygia.  The  promise  of  ten  thousand  talents, 
and  of  the  kingdom  of  Macedon,  obliterated  his 
gratitude  and  seduced  his  allegiance.  But  his 
treason  escaped  not  the  vigilance  of  Parmenio,6 
who  communicated  the  intelligence  to  his  mas- 
ter, while  encamped  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Phaselis.  By  the  same  faithful  minister,  the 
unworthy  son  of  iEropus  was  seized  and  com- 
mitted to  safe  custody. 

Darius,  without  desisting  from  his  intrigues, 
finally  had  recourse  to  arms.  His  troops  were 
assembled  in  the  plains  of  Babylon.  They  con- 
sisted of  a hundred  thousand  Persians,  of  whom 
thirty  thousand  were  cavalry.  The  Medes  sup- 
plied almost  half  that  number,  and  the  Arme- 
nians almost  as  many  as  the  Medes.  The  Bar- 
cani,  the  Hyrcanians,  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Caspian  shores,  and  nations  more  obscure  or 
more  remote,  sent  their  due  proportion  of  ca- 
valry and  infantry  for  this  immense  army, 
which,  including  thirty  thousand  Greek  mer- 
cenaries in  the  Persian  service,  is  said  to  have 
amounted  to  six  hundred  thousand  men.  The 
magnificence  of  the  Persians  had  not  diminish- 
ed since  the  days  of  Xerxes;  neither  had  their 
military  knowledge  increased.  Their  muster 
was  taken  by  the  same  contrivance  employed  by 
that  monarch.7  Ten  thousand  men  were  se- 
parated from  the  rest,  formed  into  a compact 
body,  and  surrounded  by  a palisade.  The  whole 
army  passing  suecessively  into  this  inclosure, 
were  rather  measured  than  numbered  by  their 
generals.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  splendour 
that  surrounded  Darius;  the  trappings  offtis 
horses,  the  rich  materials  and  nice  adjustment 
of  his  chariot,  the  profusion  of  jewels  which 
covered  his  royal  mantle,  vest,  and  tiara.  The 
dress,  and  even  the  armour  of  his  guards,  were 
adorned  with  gold,  silver  and  precious  stones. 
He  was  attended  by  his  family,  his  treasures, 
and  his  concubines,  all  escorted  by  numerous 
bands  of  horse  and  foot.  His  courtiers  and 
generals  copied,  as  usual,  too  faithfully,  the 
effeminate  manners  of  their  master.8 


6 According  to  Arrian,  p.  25,  a swallow  shared  the  ho- 
nour with  Parmenio.  While  Alexander  was  asleep  at  mid- 
day, the  swallow  hovered  around  his  head,  perching  some- 
times on  one  side  of  his  couch,  and  sometimes  on  another. 
Its  incessant  chattering  roused  the  king  from  sleep:  4)01  be- 
ing exceedingly  fatigued,  he  gently  removed  the  bird  with 
his  hand.  Instead  of  endeavouring  to  escape,  the  swallow 
perched  on  his  head,  and  ceased  not  being  extremely  noisy 
and  troublesome,  till  he  thoroughly  awoke.  The  nrodigy 
was  immediately  communicated  to  Aristander  the  Telmes- 
sian  soothsayer,  who  declared  that  a conspiracy  was  formed 
against  the  king  bv  one  of  his  domestics  and  friends  ; but 
that  it  would  certainly  be  discovered,  because  the  swallow 
is  a domestic  bird,  a friend  to  man,  and  exceedingly  loqua- 
cious. 

7 See  c.  ix.  p.  113,  et  seq. 

8 Propinquorum,  amicorumque,  conjuges  huic  agmini 
proximee.  Q,.  Curtius,  1.  iii.  c.  iii.  et  Diodor.  1.  xvii.  p.  580. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


433 


XXXVII.] 

While  this  pageant,  for  it  deserves  not  the 
name  of  army,  slowly  advanced  towards  Lower 
Asia,  Alexander  left  Gordium,  and  marched  to 
Ancyra,  a city  of  Galatia.  In  that  place,  he 
received  an  embassy  from  the  Paphlagonians, 
who  surrendered  to  him  the  sovereignty  of  their 
province,  but  entreated  that  his  army  might  not 
enter  their  borders.  He  granted  their  request, 
and  commanded  them  to  obey  Calas,  satrap  of 
Phrygia.  Alexander  then  marched  victorious 
through  Cappadocia ; and  Sabictas  being  ap- 
pointed to  the  administration  of  that  extensive 
province,  the  army  encamped  at  the  distance  of 
six  miles  from  the  Cilician  frontier,  at  a place 
which,  since  the  memorable  expedition  perform- 
ed and  described  by  Zenophon,  retained  the 
name  of  Cyrus’s  Camp.  Towards  the  south, 
the  rich  plain  of  Cilicia  is  washed  by  the  sea, 
and  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  lofty  and  al- 
most impervious  mountains.  Arsames,  gover- 
nor of  that  country,  had  sent  a body  of  troops 
to  guard  a post  called  the  Gates,  and  the  only 
pass  which  leads  from  Cappadocia  into  Cilicia. 
Apprised  of  this  measure,  Alexander  left  Par- 
menio  and  the  heavy-armed  troops  in  the  Camp 
of  Cyrus.  At  the  first  watch  of  the  night,  he 
led  the  targeteers,  archers,  and  Agrians,  to  sur- 
prise the  Persian  forces  stationed  at  the  north- 
ern Gate  of  Cilicia.  The  Barbarians  fled  on 
his  approach  ; and  the  pusillanimous  Arsames, 
to  whom  the  whole  province  was  entrusted  by 
Darius,  prepared  to  plunder,  and  then  abandon, 
his  own  capital  of  Tarsus.  But  he  had  only 
time  to  save  his  person.  The  rapidity  of  Alex- 
ander prevented  the  destruction  of  that  city, 
where  the  inhabitants  received  him  as  their  de- 
liverer. 

At  Tarsus,  Alexander  was  detained  by  a ma- 
lady, occasioned  by  excessive  fatigue  ; or,  as 
others  say,  by  imprudently  bathing,  when  heat- 
ed, in  the  cold  waters  of  the  Cydnus,  which 
flows  through  that  city,  in  a clear  and  rocky 
channel.9  Philip  the  Acarnanian  was  the  only 
person  who  despaired  not  of  his  life.  While 
this  skilful  physician  administered  a draught  to 
his  royal  patient,  a letter  came  from  Parmenio, 
warning  Alexander  to  beware  of  Philip,  who 
had  been  bribed  by  Darius  to  poison  him. 
Alexander  took  the  potion,  and  gave  Philip  the 
letter;  so  that  the  physician  read,  while  the 
king  drank;  a transaction  which  proved  either 
his  contempt  of  death,  or  his  unshaken  confi- 
dence in  his  friends  ; but  which,  by  the  admira- 
tion of  his  contemporaries  and  posterity,19  has 
been  construed  into  a proof  of  both. 

The  sickness  of  Alexander  interrupted  not 
the  operations  of  the  army.  Parmenio  was  des- 
patched to  seize  the  only  pass  on  Mount  Ama- 
nus,  which  divides  Cilicia  from  Assyria.  The 
king  soon  followed,  having  in  one  day’s  march 
reached  Anchialos,  an  ancient  city  of  vast  ex- 
tent, and  surrounded  with  walls  of  prodigious 
thickness.  The  greatest  curiosity  of  Anchialos 
was  the  tomb  of  Sardanapalus,  distinguished 


9 Curtius  gives  another  reason  for  its  excessive  coldness: 
“ Frigidissimus  quipoe  multa  riparum  amoRnitate  inumbra- 
tus,”  I.  iii.  c.  iv.  From  his  laboured  description  of  this 
river,  it  seems  ns  if  he  imagined  that  water  must  have  pos- 
sessed very  extraordinary  qualities,  which  proved  hurtful  to 
Alexander. 

10  See  Arrian,  p.  32.  Curtius,  1.  iii.  c.  v. 

3 I 


by  the  statue  of  that  effeminate  tyrant,  in  the 
attitude  of  clapping  his  hands  ; and  by  an  As- 
syrian inscription,  breathing  the  true  spirit  of 
modern  Epicurism.  The  original  ran  in  verse 
to  the  following  purpose  : “ Sardanapalus,  son 
of  Anacyndaraxas,  built  Anchialos  and  Tarsus 
in  one  day.  As  to  you,  stranger  ! eat,  drink, 
and  sport,11  for  other  human  things  are  not 
worth  this99  alluding  to  the  clap  of  his  hands.12 

Having  arrived  at  Mallos,  an  Argive  colony 
at  the  eastern  extremity  of  Cilicia,  Alexander 
learned  that  Darius  lay  with  his  army  in  the 
extensive  plain  of  Sochos,  in  the  province  of 
Comagene,  distant  only  two  days’  march  from 
the  Cilician  frontier.  The  hostile  armies  were 
separated  by  the  mountains  which  divide  Cili- 
cia and  Syria.  Alexander  hastened  to  pass  the 
straits  called  the  Syrian  Gates,  proceeded  south- 
wards along  the  bay  of  lssus,  and  encamped 
before  the  city  Mariandrus.  At  this  place  he 
received  a very  extraordinary  piece  of  intelli- 
gence. His  delay  in  Cilicia,  which  had  been 
occasioned  by  sickness,  and  by  the  many  pious 
ceremonies13  with  which  he  gratefully  thanked 
Heaven  for  his  recovery,  was  ascribed  to  very 
different  motives  by  Darius  and  his  flatterers. 
That  perfidious  race,  the  eternal  bane  of  kings,14 
easily  persuaded  the  vain  credulity  of  their 
master,  that  Alexander  shunned  his  approach. 
The  proud  resentment  of  Darius  was  exaspe- 
rated by  the  imagined  fears  of  his  adversary  ; 
with  the  impatience  of  a despot  he  longed  to 
come  to  action  ; and  not  suspecting  that  Alex- 
ander would  traverse  the  Syrian  Gates  in  search 
of  the  enemy,  he  hastily  determined  to  pass, 
in  an  opposite  direction,15  the  straits  of  Ama- 
nus,  in  quest  of  Alexander.  This  fatal  mea- 
sure was  carried  into  immediate  execution, 
notwithstanding  the  strong  representations  of 
Amyntas16  the  Macedonian,  and  of  all  Darius’s 
Grecian  counsellors,17  who  unanimously  ex- 
horted him  to  wait  the  enemy  in  his  present 
advantageous  position.  In  the  language  of  an- 
tiquity, '8  an  irresistible  fate,  which  had  deter- 
mined that  the  Greeks  should  conquer  the  Per- 
sians, as  the  Persians  had  the  Medes,  and  the 
Medes  the  Assyrians,  impelled  Darius  to  his 
ruin.  Having  passed  the  defiles  of  Amanus, 
he  directed  his  march  southward  to  the  bay  of 
lssus,  and  took  the  city  of  that  name,  which 
contained,  under  a feeble  guard,  the  sick  and 
wounded  Macedonians,  who  had  not  been  able 


11  The  word  translated  “sport,”  is  Trxt'O  in  Arrian,  p. 
32.  But  that  author  savs,  the  Assyrian  original  had  a more 
lascivious  meaning.  Pint.  Orat.  ii.  de  Fortun.  Alexand. 
translates  it,  xtpo i'inx£s,  “veneri  indulge.” 

12  Mr.  tie  Guignes,  so  deservedly  celebrated  for  his  Ori- 
ental learning,  proves  this  inscription  to  be  entirely  con- 
formable to  the  style  and  manners  of  the  East.  See  Mem. 
de  l’Acad.  des  Inscrip,  tom.  xxxiv.  p.  416,  et  seq. 

13  Processions  with  lighted  torches,  sacrifices  to  Aescu- 
lapius, jymnastic  and  musical  contests.  Arrian,  1.  ii.  p.  33. 

14  Arrian  expresses  this  sentiment  with  more  than  his 
usual  energy:  Tmv  xxtx  qfi'ovtiv  £ vvovrtuv  ti  kxi  £uvs<r o/*- 
Svidv  S7rt  xxku  TOig  xu  i /3st<riX£ucu<r*. 

15  These  movements  arc  explained  only  by  Arrian.  Dio- 
dorus, Plutarch,  and  Curtius,  not  attending  to  the  geogra- 
phy of  the  country,  are  inconsistent  and  unintelligible. 

16  Amyntas,  though  an  exile,  was  not  a flatterer.  He 
assured  Darius,  that  Alexander  would  certainly  come  to 
anv  place  where  the  Persians  encamped.  Arrian,  p.  34. 

17  Aristomenes  the  Phersean,  Bianor  the  Arcananian,  Thy- 
mondas  the  son  of  Mentor,  the  Rhodian,  and  others  men- 
tioned by  Arrisn,  passim. 

18  Arrian,  Plul.  Diodor.  Curt. 


434 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


to  follow  the  army  in  its  expeditious  march 
across  the  mountains.  The  Persians  put  these 
unhappy  men  to  death  with  shocking  circum- 
stances of  cruelty,1  little  thinking  that  Alex- 
ander was  now  behind,  prepared  to  avenge 
their  fate. 

That  enlightened  prince,  who  could  scarcely 
believe  the  folly  of  Darius,  sent  a small  flat- 
bottomed  vessel  to  reconnoitre  his  motions. 
This  vessel  speedily  returned  to  Alexander,  and 
saluted  him  with  the  agreeable  news  that  his 
enemies  were  now  in  his  hands.  Having  sum- 
moned an  assembly,  the  king  forgot  none  of 
those  topics  of  encouragement  which  the  occa- 
sion so  naturally  suggested,  since  the  meanest 
Macedonian  soldier  could  discern  the  injudi- 
cious movements  of  the  Persians,  wrho  had  quit- 
ted a spacious  plain,  to  entangle  themselves 
among  intricate  mountains,  where  their  numer- 
ous cavalry,  in  which  they  chiefly  excelled, 
could  perform  no  essential  service.  In  prepar- 
ing for  this  important  contest,  the  spirits  of  the 
Macedonians  were  elevated  by  a recollection 
of  many  fortunate  occurrences.  Ptolemy,  as 
they  had  recently  learned,  had  made  himself 
master  of  the  strong  fortresses  in  Caria.  The 
brave  Memnon  indeed  had  escaped;  but  that 
able  commander,  who,  to  pave  the  way  for  in- 
vading Macedon,  had  attacked  the  Grecian  isles 
with  his  fleet,  was  since  dead  ; and  his  succes- 
sors in  command,  after  irritating  the  islanders 
by  their  insolence  and  oppression,  were  defeated 
in  all  their  designs  by  the  vigilance  of  Antipa- 
ter. The  army  of  Alexander  had  lately  in- 
creased by  many  voluntary  accessions  of  the 
Asiatics,  who  admired  his  courage,  mildness, 
and  uninterrupted  good  fortune ; and  the  sol- 
diers, who  the  preceding  year  had  been  sent  to 
winter  in  Europe,  had  not  only  rejoined  the 
camp,  but  brought  with  them  numerous  levies 
from  Greece,  Macedon,  and  all  the  adjoining 
countries.  By  men  thus  disposed  to  indulge 
the  most  sanguine  hopes,  the  military  harangue 
of  their  prince  was  received  with  a joyous  ar- 
dour. They  embraced  each  other ; they  em- 
braced • their  admired  commander ; and  his 
countenance  confirming  their  alacrity,  they  en- 
treated to  be  led  to  battle.2 

Alexander  commanded  them  first  to  refresh 
their  bodies:  but  immediately  despatched  some 
horse  and  archers  to  clear  the  road  to  Issus. 
In  the  evening  he  followed  with  his  whole 
army,  and  about  midnight  took  possession  of 
the  Syrian  straits.  The  soldiers  were  then 
allowed  a short  repose,  sufficient  guards  being 
posted  on  the  surrounding  eminences.  At 
dawn,  the  army  was  in  motion,  marching  by  its 
flank  while  the  passage  continued  narrow ; and 
new  columns  being  successively  brought  up,  as 
the  mountains  gradually  opened.  Before  reach- 
ing the  river  Pinarus,  on  the  opposite  bank  of 
which  the  enemy  were  encamped,  the  Mace- 
donians had  formed  in  order  of  battle;  Alex- 
ander leading  the  right  wing,  and  the  left  being 
commanded  by  Parmenio.  They  continued  to 
advance,  till  their  right  was  flanked  by  a moun- 
tain, and  their  left  by  the  sea,  from  which  Par- 


19  X*x.£5r«j;  eeix«(r*^ei'uj  xrroxTeivt,  Arrian,  p.  34.  It  is 
remarkable,  that  he  ascribes  this  ferocity  to  Darius  himself. 
2 Arrian,  p.  33 — 36. 


[Chap. 

menio  was  ordered  not  to  recede.  Darius 
being  apprised  of  the  enemy’s  approach,  de- 
tached a body  of  fifty  thousand  cavalry  and 
light  infantry  across  the  Pinarus,  that  the  re- 
mainder might  have  room  to  form  without  con- 
fusion. His  Greek  mercenaries,  amounting  to 
thirty  thousand,  he  posted  directly  opposite  to 
the  Macedonian  phalanx.  The  Greeks  were 
flanked  on  both  sides  by  double  that  number  of 
Barbarians,  also  heavy  armed.  The  nature  of 
the  ground  admitted  not  more  troops  to  be 
ranged  in  front;  but  as  the  mountain  on  Alex- 
ander’s left,  sloped  inwards,  Darius  placed  on 
that  sinuosity  twenty  thousand  men,  who  could 
see  the  enemy’s  rear,  though  it  appears  not 
that  they  could  advance  against  them.  Behind 
the  firsf  line  the  rest  of  the  Barbarians  were 
ranged,  according  to  their  various  nations,  in 
close  and  unserviceable  ranks:  Darius  being 
every  where  encumbered  by  the  vastness  of  a 
machine,  which  he  had  not  skill  to  wield.3 
Q,  His  pusillanimity  was  more  fatal 

than  his  ignorance.  When  he  per- 
A C *333  ce*vec^  Macedonians  advancing, 
he  commanded  his  men  to  maintain 
their  post  on  the  Pinarus,  the  bank  of  which 
was  in  some  places  high  and  steep;  where  the 
access  seemed  easier,  he  gave  orders  to  raise  a 
rampart;  precautions  which  showed  the  enemy, 
thai  even  before  the  battle  began,  the  mind  of 
Darius  was  already  conquered.4  Alexander, 
mean  while,  rode  along  the  ranks,  exhorting, 
by  name,  not  only  the  commanders  of  the  several 
brigades,  but  the  tribunes  and  inferior  officers, 
and  even  such  captains  of  the  auxiliaries  as 
were  distinguished  by  rank,  or  ennobled  by 
merit.  Perceiving  it  necessary  to  moderate 
the  martial  ardour  that  prevailed,  he  command- 
ed his  forces  to  advance  with  a regular  and 
slow  step,  lest  the  phalanx  should  fluctuate 
through  too  eager  a contention.  Their  motion 
quickened  as  they  proceeded  within  reach  of  the 
enemy’s  darts.  Alexander,  with  those  around 
him,  then  sprung  into  the  river.  Their  impe- 
tuosity frightened  the  Barbarians,  who  scarcely 
waited  the  first  shock,5  But  the  Greek  merce- 
naries, perceiving  that  by  the  rapidity  and  suc- 
cess of  Alexander’s  assault,  the  Macedonians 
were  bent  towards  the  right  wing,  which  was 
separated  from  the  centre,  seized  the  decisive 
moment  of  rushing  into  the  interval,  where  the 
phalanx  was  disjointed.  A fierce  engagement 
ensued,  the  Greeks  eager  to  regain  the  honour 
of  their  name,  the  Macedonians  ambitious  to 
maintain  th^  unsullied  glory  of  the  phalanx. 
This  desperate  action  proved  fatal  to  Ptolemy 
the  son  of  Seleucus,  and  other  officers  of  dis- 
tinction, to  the  number  of  a hundred  and 
twenty.  Mean  while,  the  Macedonian  right 
wing  having  repelled  the  enemy  with  great 


3 Arrian,  p.  36. 

4 Kx»  TstoTt)  suSuj  Si cyiviro  rot;  xft£i  AXc^xvSpev 
t tf  -yvui/j.1]  SiSouKwfisvog.  “And  thence  he  immediately  ap- 
peared to  those  about  Alexander  to  be  already  enslaved 
in  his  mind.”  In  those  times,  slavery  was  the  natural  con- 
sequence of  being  conquered  in  battle. 

5 They  did,  however,  wait  it;  for  Arrian  eays,  ev9of  y*t 

“S  £v  /<*%>)  tysvtTO.  The  “jttxj'11  sv  tyivi to  ;” 

when  the  darts  and  javelins  ceased,  and  the  contending 
parties  came  to  the  use  of  manual,  instead  of  missile, 
weapons. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


435 


XXXVII.] 

slaughter,  wheeled  to  the  left,  and,  animated  by 
recent  victory,  finally  prevailed  against  the 
obstinacy  of  the  Greeks.  A body  of  Persian 
horse  still  maintained  the  battle  against  the 
Thessalian  cavalry ; nor  did  they  quit  the  field, 
till  informed  that  Darius  had  betaken  himself 
to  flight.6 

. The  overthrow  of  the  Persians  was  now 
manifest  on  all  sides.  Their  cavalry  and  in- 
fantry suffered  equally  in  the  rout ; for  their 
horsemen  were  heavy-armed,  and  encumbered 
•by  the  narrowness  of  the  roads,  and  their  own 
terror.  Ptolemy,  the  son  of  Lagus,7  says,  that 
the  pursuers  filled  up  the  ditches  with  dead 
bodies.  The  number  of  the  slain  was  com- 
puted at  a hundred  and  ten  thousand,  among 
whom  were  many  satraps  and  nobles. 

The  great  king  had  discovered  little  obstinacy 
in  defending  the  important  objects  at  stake. 
His  left  wing  was  no  sooner  repelled  by  Alex- 
ander, than  he  drove  away  in  his  chariot,  ac- 
companied by  his  courtiers.  When  the  road 
grew  rough  and  mountainous,  he  continued  his 
flight  on  horseback,  leaving  his  shield,  his  man- 
tle, and  his  bow,  which  were  found  by  the  Ma- 
cedonians. Alexander,  who  had  received  a 
troublesome  wound  on  the  thigh,8  judged  it 
improper  to  pursue  him,  till  the  Greek  merce- 
naries were  dispersed  ; and  the  approach  of 
night  facilitated  his  escape. 

The  Persian  camp  afforded  abundant  proof 
of  Asiatic  luxury  and  opulence.9 * *  It  contained 
however  in  money  but  three  thousand  talents  ; 
the  magnificent  treasures,  which  accompanied 
the  great  king,  being  deposited,  previous  to  the 
battle,  in  the  neighbouring  city  of  Damascus. 
This  inestimable  booty  was  afterwards  seized 
by  order  of  Alexander,  who  found  in  the  camp 
a booty  more  precious,  the  wife  and  daughters 
of  Darius,  his  mother  Sysigambis,  and  his  in- 
fant son.  In  an  age  when  prisoners  of  war 
were  synonymous  with  slaves,  Alexander  be- 
haved to  his  royal  captives  with  the  tenderness 
of  a parent,  blended  with  the  respect  of  a son. 


6 Arrian.  ].  ii.  p.  36,  et  seq.  7.  Idem,  ibid. 

8 Chares,  cited  by  Plutarch,  says,  that  Alexander  re- 
ceived this  wound  from  the  hand  of  Darius;  but  the  silence 
of  Alexander's  letter  to  Antipater,  in  which  he  gave  an  ac- 
count of  the  battle,  and  of  his  wound  on  the  thigh,  refutes 

that  improbable  assertion. 

9 Among  other  things  of  value  in  the  tent  of  Darius, 

was  found  a casket  of  exquisite  workmanship,  adorned 

with  jewels.  It  was  employed  to  hold  Darius’s  perfumes. — 

Alexander  said,  “I  use  no  perfumes,  but  shall  put  into  it 
something  more  precious.”  This  was  the  Iliad  of  Homer, 

corrected  by  Aristotle,  and  often  mentioned  by  ancient 
writers;  a ex.  too  voi^Stjxos,  “the  Iliad  of  the  casket.” 
Strabo,  1.  xiii.  p.  888.  Plut.  in  Alexand. 


In  his  chaste  attention  to  Statira,  the  fairest 
beauty  of  the  East,  his  conduct  forms  a re- 
markable contrast  with  that  of  his  admired 
Achilles,  whom  he  equalled  in  valour,  but  far 
surpassed  in  humanity.  These  illustrious  prin- 
cesses bore  their  own  misfortunes  with  patience, 
but  burst  into  dreadful  lamentations,  when  in- 
formed by  a eunuch  that  he  had  seen  the  mantle 
of  Darius  in  the  hands  of  a Macedonian  soldier. 
Alexander  sent  to  assure  them  that  Darius  yet 
lived  ; and  next  day  visited  them  in  person,  ac- 
companied by  Hephestion,  the  most  affectionate 
of  his  friends.19  Sysigambis  approached  to  pros- 
trate11 herself  before  the  conqueror,  according 
to  the  custom  of  the  East;  but  not  knowing  the 
king,  as  their  dress  was  alike,  she  turned  to 
Hephestion.  Hephestion  suddenly  stepping 
back,  Sysigambis  saw  her  mistake,  and  was 
covered  with  confusion.  “You  mistook  not, 
madam  !”  said  the  king,  “ Hephestion  is  like- 
wise Alexander.”12 

The  virtues  of  Alexander  long  continued  to 
expand  with  his  prosperity ; but  he  was  never 
more  inimitably  great,  than  after  the  battle  of 
Issus.  The  city  of  Soli,  in  Cilicia,  though  in- 
habited by  a Grecian  colony,  had  discovered 
uncommon  zeal  in  the  cause  of  Darius.  To 
punish  this  unnatural  apostacy  from  Greece, 
Alexander  demanded  a heavy  contribution  from 
Soli ; but,  after  the  victory,  he  remitted  this 
fine.  Impelled  by  the  same  generous  magna- 
nimity, he  released  the  Athenian  captives  taken 
at  the  battle  of  the  Granicus;  a favour  which 
he  had  sternly  refused,  in  the  dawn  of  his  for- 
tune. In  Damascus,  several  Grecian  ambassa- 
dors were  found  among  the  captives.  Alex- 
ander ordered  them  to  be  brought  into  his 
presence.  Thessaliscus  and  Dionysodorus,  the 
Thebans,  he  instantly  declared  free,  observing, 
that  the  misfortunes  of  their  country  justly  en- 
titled the  Thebans  to  apply  to  Darius,  and  to 
every  prince  from  whom  they  might  derive 
relief.  Iphicrates,  the  Athenian,  he  treated 
with  the  respect  which  appeared  due  both  to 
his  country  and  to  his  father.  Euthycles  the 
Spartan,  alone,  he  detained  in  safe  custody, 
because  Sparta  sullenly  rejected  the  friendship 
of  Macedon.  But  as  his  forgiveness  still  in- 
creased with  his  power,13 *  he  afterwards  released 
Euthycles. 


9 Alexander,  with  his  usual  discernment,  characterised 
the  affection  of  Hephestion:  “ Craterus  loves  the  prince 
Hephestion  loves  Alexander.”  Plut.  in  Alexand. 

11  Ueotrey-detv  x* i Trgorxvv^t rsti.  Arrian,  ii.  p.  39. 

12  Curtius,  1.  iii.  c.  xii.  Arrian,  p.  39. 

13  Arrian,  p.  42. 


436 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

Siege  of  Tyre— Desperate  Resistance  of  Gaza — Easy  Conquest  of  Egypt — Foundation  of  Alex- 
andria— Alexander  visits  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Ammon — Marches  into  Assyria — Battle  of 
Gaugamela — Darius  betrayed  and  slain — Alexander  pursues  the  Murderers  of  Darius — 
Bactrian  and  Scythian  War — Siege  of  the  Sogdian  Fortress — Surrender  of  Chorienes — 
Commotions  in  Greece — Checked  by  Antipater — The  Cause  of  Clesiphon  and  Demosthenes — 
Aeschines  banished — Stale  of  Greece  during  Alexander's  Reign. 


TN  his  precipitate  flight  across  the  ridges  of 
Amanas,  Darius  was  gradually  joined  by 
about  four  thousand  men,  chiefly  Greeks.  Un- 
der  this  feeble  escort,  he  departed 
cxj^  hastily  from  Sochos,  pursued  his 

A C *333  marc^  eastward,  and  crossed  the 
Euphrates  at  Thapsacus,  eager  to 
interpose  that  deep  and  rapid  stream  between 
himself  and  the  conqueror.1  Alexander’s  in- 
clination to  seize  the  person  of  his  adversary 
could  not  divert  him  from  the  judicious  plan  of 
war,  to  which  he  immoveably  adhered.  In  a 
council  of  his  friends,  he  declared  his  opinion, 
that  it  would  be  highly  imprudent  to  attempt 
the  conquest  of  Babylon,  until  he  had  tho- 
roughly subdued  the  maritime  provinces;  be- 
cause, should  he  be  carried  by  an  unseasonable 
celerity  into  Upper  Asia,  while  the  enemy  com- 
manded the  sea,  the  war  might  be  removed  to 
Europe,  where  the  Lacedaemonians  were  open 
enemies,  and  the  Athenians  doubtful  friends. 
Having  appointed  governors  of  Cilicia  and 
Ccelo-Syria,  he  therefore  directed  his  march 
southward  along  the  Phoenician  coast.  Aradus, 
Marathus,  and  Sidon,2  readily  opened  their 
gates.  The  Tyrians  sent  a submissive  embassy 
of  their  most  illustrious  citizens,  among  whom 
was  the  son  of  Azelmicus,  their  king,  who  had 
himself  embarked  with  Autophradates  in  the 
Persian  fleet.  They  humbly  informed  Alexan- 
der, that  the  copimunity3  from  which  they 
came  was  prepared  to  obey  his  commands. 
Having  complimented  the  city  and  the  am- 
bassadors, he  desired  them  to  acquaint  their 
countrymen,  that  he  intended  shortly  to  enter 
Tyre,  and  to  perform  sacrifice  there  to  Her- 
cules.4 

Upon  this  alarming  intelligence,  the  Tyrians 
discovered  equal  firmness  and  prudence.  A se- 
cond embassy  assured  Alexander  of  their  unal- 
terable respect,  but  at  the  same  time  communi- 
cated to  him  their  determined  resolution,  that 
neither  the  Persians  nor  the  Macedonians  shou>d 
ever  enter  their  walls.  This  boldness  appears 
remarkable  in  a nation  of  merchants,  long  un- 


1  £1?  t*x»<tts6  fte<rov  «urou  ts  xxt  tou  AKe^xvS^ov  tov 
Ev$e*Tnv  5roi>t<rcci.  Arrian,  p.  40. 

2 I omit  the  story  of  Abdelerminus,  whom  Alexander 
raised  from  the  humble  condition  of  a gardener  to  the 
throne  of  Sidon.  Vid.  Curt.  1.  iv.  c.  i.  Diodor.  1.  xvii.  re- 
lates the  same  story  as  happening  in  Tyre.  Plutarch,  de 
Fortun.  Alexand.  translates  the  scene  to  Paphos.  Amidst 
such  inconsistencies,  the  silence  of  Arrian  seemed  worthy 
of  imitation. 

3 Arrian  says,  that  these  ambassadors  were  «*•<>  too 
xoivu>  iTTxKftivoi.  It  should  seem  that  the  king  of  Tyre 
was  a very  limited  prince,  and  the  government  rather 
republican  than  monarchical. 

4 The  reader  may  recollect,  that  Philip  sent  a similar 

message  to  Atheas,  king  of  the  Scythians.  Such  pious 

pretences  were  often  employed  by  antiquity  to  justify  very 

unwarrantable  transactions. 


accustomed  to  war.5  But  the  resources  of  their 
wealth  and  commerce  seem  to  have  elevated 
the  courage,  instead  of  softening  the  character, 
of  the  Tyreans.  Their  city,  which,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  East,  was  styled  the  eldest  daughter 
of  Sidon,6 *  had  long  reigned  queen  of  the  sea. 
The  purple  shell-fish,  which  is  found  in  great 
abundance  on  their  coast/  early  gave  them  pos- 
session of  that  lucrative  trade,  and  confined 
chiefly  to  the  Tyrians  the  advantage  of  clothing 
the  princes  and  nobles  in  most  civilized  coun- 
tries of  antiquity/  Tyre  was  separated  from 
the  continent  by  a frith  half  a mile  broad ; its 
walls  exceeded  a hundred  feet9  in  height,  and 
extended  eighteen  miles  in  circumference.  The 
convenience  of  its  situation,  the  capaciousness 
of  its  harbours,  and  the  industrious  ingenuity 
of  its  inhabitants,  rendered  it  the  commercial 
capital  of  the  world.  Its  magazines  were  plen- 
tifully provided  with  military  and  naval  stores, 
and  it  was  peopled  by  numerous  and  skilful 
artificers  in  stone,  wood,  and  iron.10 

Notwithstanding  the  strength  of 
cx?  the  city,  Alexander  determined  to 

A C f°rm  siege  °f  Tyre;  and  the 

difficulty  of  an  undertaking  which 
seemed  necessary  in  itself,  and  essential  to  the 
success  of  still  more  important  enterprises,  only 
stimulated  the  activity  of  a prince,  who  knew 
that,  on  many  emergencies,  boldness  is  the 
greatest  prudence.  The  first  operation  which 
he  directed,  was  to  run  a mole  from  the  conti- 
nent to  the  walls  of  Tyre,  where  the  sea  was 
about  three  fathom  deep.  The  necessity  of  this 
measure  arose  from  the  imperfection  of  the 
battering  engines  of  antiquity,  which  had  little 
power,  except  at  small  distances.  On  the  side 
of  the  continent,  the  work  was  carried  on  with 
great  alacrity  ; but  when  the  Macedonians  ap- 
proached the  city,  they  were  much  incommoded 
by  the  depth  of  water,  and  exceedingly  galled 
by  darts  and  missile  weapons  from  the  battle- 
ments. The  Tyrians,  likewise,  having  the  com- 
mand of  the  sea,  annoyed  the  workmen  from 
their  galleys,  and  retarded  the  completion  of 
their  labours.  To  resist  these  assaults,  Alex- 
ander erected,  on  the  furthest  projecture  of  the 
mole,  two  wooden  towers,  on  which  he  placed 
his  engines,  and  which  he  covered  with  leather 

5 Old  Tyre  was  built  on  the  continent,  by  the  Sidoniana 
1252  B.  C.  It  was  besieeed  by  Salmanesar,7l9  B.C. ; and  by 
Nebuchadnezzar,  572  B.  C.  The  latter  took  the  place  after 
a siege  of  thirteen  years;  but  the  greater  part  of  the  inha- 
bitants had  previously  fled  with  their  effects  to  a neighbour- 
ing island,  and  founded  the  city  described  in  the  text.  Vid. 
Joseph.  1.  viii.  cap.  ii.  1.  ix.  cap.  xiv.  et  1.  x.  cap.  xi. 

6 Isaiah,  xxiii.  12.  7 Strabo,  1.  vi.  p.  521. 

8 Homer,  Herodot.  fee.  passim.  See  likewise  p.  80. 

9 Arrian  says  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  The  copies 
probably  are  erroneous. 

10  Plutarch,  Curtius,  Arrian. 


XXXVffl.] 

and  taw  hides  to  resist  the  ignited  darts  and 
fire-ships  of  the  enemy.  This  contrivance, 
however,  the  ingenuity  of  his  adversaries  soon 
rendered  ineffectual;  Having  procured  a huge 
hulk,  they  filled  it  with  dry  twigs,  pitch,  sul- 
phur, and  other  combustibles.  Toward  the 
prow,  they  raised  two  masts,  each  of  which  was 
armed  with  a double  yard,  from  whose  extremi- 
ties were  suspended  vast  chaldrons,  filled  with 
whatever  might  add  to  the  violence  of  the  con- 
flagration. Having  prepared  this  uncommon 
instrument  of  destruction,  they  patiently  waited 
a favourable  wind.  The  hulk  was  then  towed 
into  the  sea  by  two  galleys.  As  she  approached 
the  mole,  the  rowers  set  her  on  fire,  and  es- 
caped by  swimming.  The  works  of  the  Mace- 
donians were  soon  thrown  into  a blaze.  The 
enemy,  sailing  forth  in  boats,  prevented  them 
from  extinguishing  the  flames ; and  the  labour 
of  many  weeks  was  thus  in  one  day  reduced  to 
ruins.11 

The  perseverance  of  Alexander  was  proof 
against  such  accidents.  He  immediately  com- 
manded new  engines  to  be  made,  and  a new 
mole  to  be  raised,  stronger  and  broader  than 
the  preceding.  The  orders  of  a prince,  who 
directed  every  operation  in  person,  and  whose 
bodily  toils  exceeded  those  of  the  meanest  sol- 
dier, were  always  obeyed  with  alacrity.  The 
ruins  of  old  Tyre  afforded  abundance  of  stone; 
wood  was  brought  from  Anti-Libanus  ;12  and 
it  should  seem  that  the  Arabians,  having  dis- 
turbed the  Macedonian  workmen,  were  repelled 
by  Alexander,  which  gave  rise  to  the  improbable 
fiction  of  his  having  conquered  Arabia.  By 
incredible  exertions,  the  mole  was  at  length 
built,  and  the  battering  engines  were  erected. 
The  arrival  of  four  thousand  Peloponnesian 
forces  seasonably  reinforced  Alexander,  and  re- 
vived the  courage  of  his  troops,  exhausted  by 
fatigue  and  dejected  by  defeat.  At  the  same 
time  the  fleets  of  the  maritime  provinces  which 
he  had  subdued,  came  to  offer  their  assistance 
in  an  undertaking,  which  could  scarcely  have 
proved  successful,  while  the  Tyrians  command- 
ed the  sea.  The  squadrons  of  Lower  Asia 
were  joined  by  the  naval  force  of  Rhodes  and 
Cyprus.  The  whole  armament  of  Alexander 
amounted  to  two  hundred  and  twenty-four 
vessels,13  so  that  the  Tyrians,  who  hitherto  con- 


11  Arrain,  p.  44.  et  seq. 

12  Curtius  confounds  Anti-Libanus  with  Mount  Libanus. 
It  would  be  endless  to  notice  his  errors,  exaggerations,  and 
fictions  in  the  account  of  this  siege,  which  is  one  of  the  most 
romantic  passages  in  his  history.  Curtius  writes  to  the 
fancy,  not  to  the  judgment ; and  to  readers  oT  a certain 
taste,  the  picturesque  beauties  of  his  style  will  alone  for 
errors  in  matter  of  fact.  He  may  he  allowed  to  raise  an 
imaginary  storm,  who  can  describe  it  like  Curtius.  “ Turn 
inhorrescens  mare  paullatim  levari,  deinde  acriori  vonto 
concitalum,  fluctus  ciere,  et  inter  se  navigia  eollidere. 
Jamque  scindi  coeperant  vincula,  quibus  connexne  quad- 
riremes  erant,  mere  tabulata,  et  cum  ingenti  fragore  in  pro- 
fnndum  secum  milites  trahere.”  It  is  Alexander,  whose 
actions  he  disfigures  and  venders  incredible,  not  the  reader, 
whose  fancv  he  amuses,  that  is  entitled  to  condemn  Curtius. 

13  Curtius.  1.  iv.  c.  iii.  says,  that  it  consisted  of  one  hun- 
dred a hd  eighty  sail.  Plutarch,  in  Alexnrftl.  says,  that  the 
Irnven  of  Tvre  was  blocked  up  with  two  hundred  triremes. 
Arrian  distinctly  mentions  the  number  and  species  of  ships 
sent  by  each  city  or  province.  From  Macedon  there  came, 
he1  says,  a vessel  of  fifty  oars,  7revT»fxot/TOfoj ; a circum- 
stance which  proves  that,  on  this  emergency,  Alexander 
had  taken  pains  to  collect  ships  from  all  quarters. 


437 

fided  in  their  fleet,  now  retired  behind  the  de- 
fences of  their  ports  for  safety. 

But  these  persevering  islanders,  though  they 
prudently  declined  an  unequal  combat,  were 
forsaken  neither  by  their  activity  nor  their  cou- 
rage. The  hulks  and  galleys,14  destined  to  ad- 
vance the  battering  engines  against  their  walls, 
were  assailed  with  continual  showers  of  ignited 
arrows,15  and  other  missile  weapons,  which 
came  with  peculiar  effect  from  wooden  towers 
newly  raised  on  their  lofty  battlements.  This 
distant  hostility  retarded,  but  could  not  pre- 
vent, the  approaches  of  the  enemy.  The  pur- 
pose of  the  Tyrians  was  better  effected  by  cast- 
ing down  huge  stones  into  the  sea,  which 
hindered  access  to  the  walls.  To  clear  these 
incumbrances  required  the  perseverance  of  the 
Macedonians,  and  the  animating  presence  of 
Alexander.  Before  the  work  could  be  accom- 
plished, the  enemy  advanced  in  covered  vessels, 
and  cut  the  cables  of  the  hulks  employed  in 
that  laborious  service.  Alexander  commanded 
a squadron  to  advance  and  repel  the  Tyrians. 
Yet  even  this  did  not  facilitate  the  removal  of 
the  bar;  for  the  islanders,  being  expert  divers, 
plunged  under  water,  and  again  cutting  the 
cables,  set  the  Macedonian  vessels  adrift.  It 
thus  became  necessary  to  prepare  chains,  which 
were  used  instead  of  ropes;  by  which  con- 
trivance the  hulks  were  secured  in  firm  an- 
chorage, the  bank  of  stones  was  removed,  and 
the  battering  engines  advanced  to  the  walls. 

In  this  extremity,  the  Tyrians,  still  trusting 
to  their  courage,  determined  to  attack  the  Cy- 
prian squadron,  stationed  at  the  mouth  of  the 
habour  which  looked  towards  Sidon.  The 
boldness  of  this  design  could  only  be  surpassed 
by  the  deliberate  valour  with  which  it  was  car- 
ried into  execution.  The  mouth  of  the  haven 
they  had  previously  covered  with  spread  sails, 
to  conceal  their  operations  from  the  enemy. 
The  hour  of  attack  was  fixed  at  mid-day,  at 
which  time  the  Greeks  and  Mecedonians  were 
usually  employed  in  private  affairs,  or  the  care 
of  their  bodies,  and  Alexander  commonly  re- 
tired to  his  pavilion,  erected  near  the  harbour 
which  looked  towards  Egypt.  The  best  sailing 
vessels  were  carefully  selected  from  the  whole 
fleet,16  and  manned  with  the  most  expert 
rowers,  and  the  most  resolute  soldiers,  all  inured 
to  the  sea,  and  well  armed  for  fight.  At  first 
they  came  forth  in  a line,  slowly  and  silently  ; 
hut  having  proceeded  within  sight  of  the  Cy- 
prians, they  at  once  clashed  their  oars,  raised  a 
shout,  and  avanced  abreast  of  each  other  to  the 
attack.  Several  of  the  enemy’s  ships  were  sunk 
at  the  first  shock  ; others  were  dashed  in  pieces 
against  the  shore.  Alexander,  who  had  fortu- 
nately that  day  tarried  but  a short  time  in  his 
pavilion,  was  no  sooner  informed  of  this  despe- 
rate sally,  than,  with  admirable  presence  of 
mind,  he  immediately  ordered  such  vessels  as 
were  ready,  to  block  up  the  mouth  of  the  haven, 
and  thereby  prevent  the  remainder  of  the  Ty- 

14  fiuclt  vessels  were  used  for  this  purpose,  as  were  the 
stoutest  sailors.  Arrian,  p.  46. 

15  Hvg^ogoig  OITTOIf. 

16  They  consisted,  says  Arrian,  in  five  choice  quin- 
queremes,  as  many  quadriremes,  and  seven  triremes.  See 
note,  p.  61. 


history  of  Greece. 


438 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


rian  fleet  from  joining  their  victorious  com- 
panions. Mean  while,  with  several  quinque- 
reme,  and  five  trireme,  galleys,  hastily  prepar- 
ed, he  sailed  round  to  attack  the  Tyrians.  The 
besieged  observing  from  their  walls  the  approach 
of  Alexander,  endeavoured,  by  shouts  and  sig- 
nals, to  recall  their  ships.  They  had  scarcely 
changed  their  course,  when  the  enemy  assailed, 
and  soon  rendered  them  unserviceable.  The 
men  saved  themselves  by  swimming ; few  ves- 
sels escaped ; two  were  taken  at  the  very  en- 
trance of  the  harbour. 

01  The  issue  of  these  naval  opera- 

ymp.  tions  decided  the  fate  of  Tyre.  Un- 
A^C  332  awec*  ^ hostile  fleet,  the  Mace- 
j *1  * donians  now  fearlessly  advanced 

y*  their  engines  on  all  sides.  Amidst 
repeated  assaults  during  two  days,  the  besiegers 
displayed  the  ardour  of  enthusiasm,1  the  be- 
sieged the  fury  of  despair.  From  towers  equal 
in  height  to  the  walls,  the  Greeks  and  Mace- 
donians fought  hand  to  hand  with  Jhe  enemy. 
By  throwing  spontoons  across,  the  bravest  some- 
times passed  over,  even  to  the  battlements.  In 
other  parts,  the  Tyrians  successfully  employed 
hooks  and  grappling-irons  to  remove  the  assail- 
ants. On  those  who  attempted  scaling-ladders, 
they  poured  vessels  of  burning  sand,  which  pe- 
netrated to  the  bone.  The  vigour  of  the  at- 
tack was  opposed  by  as  vigorous  a resistance. 
The  shock  of  the  battering  engines  was  dead- 
ened by  green  hides  and  coverlets  of  wool,  and 
whenever  an  opening  was  effected,  the  bravest 
combatants  advanced  to  defend  the  breach. 
But  time  and  fatigue,  which  exhausted  the  vi- 
gour of  the  enemy,  only  confirmed  the  perse- 
verance of  Alexander.  On  the  third  day,  the 
engines  assailed  the  walls ; and  the  fleet,  di- 
vided into  two  squadrons,  attacked  the  opposite 
harbours.  A wide  breach  being  effected,  Al- 
exander commanded  the  hulks,  which  carried 
the  engines,  to  retire,  and  others,  bearing  the 
scaling-ladders,  to  advance,  that  his  soldiers 
might  enter  the  town  over  the  ruins.  The  tar- 
geteers,  headed  by  Admetus,  first  mounted  the 
breach.  This  gallant  commander  was  slain  by 
a spear;  but  Alexander,  who  was  present  wher- 
ever danger  called,  immediately  followed  with 
the  royal  band  of  Companions.  At  the  same 
time  the  Phoenician  fleet  broke  into  the  harbour 
of  Egypt,  and  the  Cyprians  into  that  of  Sidon. 
After  their  walls  were  taken,  the  townsmen 
still  rallied,  and  prepared  for  defence.  The 
length  of  the  siege,  and  still  more  the  cruelty  of 
the  Tyrians,  who  having  taken  some  Grecian 
vessels  from  Sidon,  butchered  their  crews  on 
the  top  of  their  wall,  and  threw  their  bodies  into 


1  From  the  beginning,  the  difficulties  of  the  siege  had 
appeared  almost  insurmountable  to  the  soldiers.  “ But  Al- 
exander,” says  Curtius,  “haudquaquamrudis  tractandi  mili- 
tares  animos,  speciem  sibi  Herculis  in  somno  oblatam  esse 
pronunciat,  dextram  porrigentis.”  The  diviners  thence  con- 
cluded, as  Arrian  tells  us,  that  Tyre  would  be  taken,  but 
that  it  would  be  a Herculean  labour.  Alexander  continued 
throughout  the  siege  to  employ  the  aids  of  superstition.  At 
one  time  it  was  said,  that  Apollo  was  about  to  leave  Tyre, 
and  that  the  Tyrians  had  fastened  him  with  golden  chains 
to  prevent  his  elopement.  At  another,  Alexander  dreamed 
that  a satyr  playing  before  him,  long  eluded  his  grasp,  but 
finally  allowed  himself  to  be  caught.  The  augurs  divided 
the  word  XxTvgos,  a Satyr,  into  two  syllables,  Xas  Tvg s;, 
Tyre  is  thine.  By  such  coarse  artifices  did  Alexander  con- 
quer the  world 


[Chap. 

the  sea,  in  sight  of  the  whole  Macedonian  army, 
provoked  the  indignation  of  Alexander,  and  ex- 
asperated the  fury  of  the  victors.  Eight  thou- 
sand Tyrians  were  siain  ; thirty  thousand  were 
reduced  to  servitude.2  The  principal  ma- 
gistrates, together  with  some  Carthaginians 
who  had  come  to  worship  the  gods  of  their 
mother  country,  took  refuge  in  the  temple  of 
Tyrian  Hercules.  They  were  saved  by  the 
clemency  or  piety  of  Alexander,  who  had  lost 
four  hundred  men  in  this  obstinate  siege  of 
seven  months.3 

The  conquest  of  Phcenicia  was  followed  by 
the  submission  of  the  neighbouring  province  of 
Judaea.4  But  in  the  road  leading  to  Egypt,  the 
progress  of  the  conqueror  was  interrupted  by 
the  strong  city  of  Gaza,  situate  on  a high  hill, 
near  the  confines  of  the  Arabian  desert.5  This 
place,  distant  about  two  miles  from  the  sea,  and 
surrounded  by  marshes  or  a deep  sand,  which 
rendered  it  extremely  difficult  of  access,  was 
held  for  Darius  by  the  loyalty  of  Batis,6  a 
eunuch,  who  had  prepared  to  resist  Alexander 
by  hiring  Arabian  troops,  and  by  providing  co- 
pious magazines.  The  Macedonian  engineers7 
declared  their  opinion  that  Gaza  was  impreg- 
nable. But  Alexander,  unwilling  to  incur  the 
disgrace  and  danger  of  leaving  a strong  fortress 
behind  him,  commanded  a rampart  to  be  raised 
on  the  south  side  of  the  wall,  which  seemed 
least  secure  against  an  attack.  His  engines 
were  scarcely  erected,  when  the  garrison  made 
a furious  sally,  and  threw  them  into  flames. 
It  required  the  presence  of  the  king  to  save  the 
rampart,  and  to  prevent  the  total  defeat  of  the 
Macedonians.  Warned  by  a heavenly  admoni- 


2 Curtius,  1.  iv.  c.  iv.  says,  that  fifteen  thousand  Tyrians 
were  saved  by  their  Sidonian  brethren,  who  clandtstinely 
embarked  them  in  their  ships,  and  transported  ihem  to  Si- 
don. This  circumstance,  om  tted  by  Arrian,  derives  some 
probability  from  the  vigorous  resistance  which,  nineteen 
years  afterwards,  Tyre  again  made  to  the  arms  of  Antigo- 
nus.  Vid.  Diodor.  Sicul.  p.  702 — 704. 

3 Arrian,  1.  ii.  p.  44 — 50. 

4 All  the  historians  of  Alexander  are  silent  concerning 
his  journey  to  Jerusalem,  and  his  extraordinary  transactions 
there,  described  by  Josephus,  I.  xi.  c.  viii.  This  story,  in- 
vented by  the  patriotic  vanity  of  the  Jews,  is  totally  incon- 
sistent with  the  narrative  of  Arrian,  copied  in  the  text.  As 
all  Palestine, except  Gaza,  had  submitted  to  his  arms,  “ Tat 
nsv  x\\x  t»j;  TixkxKTT ivy,s  5Tfo<rx£%tuf >jxot36  aS't).”  Alex- 
ander had  no  occasion  to  march  against  Jerusalem.  The 
conversation  between  Alexander,  Parmenio,  and  the  high- 
priest  Jadduah,  as  related  by  Josephus,  is  likewise  contradic- 
tory to  the  best  authenticated  events  in  the  reign  of  Alex- 
ander. When  the  high-priest  approached  to  implore  the 
clemency  of  the  conqueror,  Alexander,  says  the  Jewish  his- 
torian, prostrated  himself  before  that  venerable  old  man;  an 
action  which  so  much  surprised  Parmenio,  that  he  imme- 
diately asked  his  master,  “Why  he,  whom  all  the  world 
adored,  should  himself  adore  the  high-priest  of  the  Jews?” 
It  will  appear  in  the  sequel,  that  Alexander  did  not  require 
this  mark  of  respect  (the  ^eoa-xw/ia-ig,)  till  long  after  the 
period  alluded  to  by  Josephus;  neither  could  he  be  accom- 
panied by  the  Chaldeans,  as  that  writer  alleges  ; much  less 
could  the  high-priest  with  propriety,  have  requested  Alex- 
ander to  permit  the  Jews,  settled  in  Babylon  and  Medea, 
the  free  exercise  of  their  religion,  before  that  prince  had 
conquered  those  countries,  or  even  passed  the  Euphrates. 
See  this  subject  further  examined  in  Moyle’s  Letters,  vol.  ii. 
p.  415.  and  in  l’Examen.  Critique  des  Historiens  d’Alex 
and  re,  p.  65 — 69. 

5 E(r%c*T>!  Ja  ujxeito  to?  £5r’  AiXu^rrov  ax  $cm/«x>|f  « ovti, 
iTTt  Ti ) etfX’i  T*ic  ££> 1JU.BV.  “ It  is  the  last  inhabited  place  on 
the  road  from  Phoenicia  to  Egypt,  on  the  skirt9  of  the  de- 
sert.” 

6 Curtius,  1.  iv.  c.  vi.  calls  him  Belis;  Josephus,  1.  xi.  c. 

vii.  Bahameses. 

7 Oi  /u> ixxvottoioi,  the  engine-makers;  it  should  seem 
that  the  same  persons  who  made  the  engines,  directed  the 
application  of  them. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


439 


XXXVIII.] 

tion,8  he  had  hitherto  kept  beyond  the  reach  of 
the  enemy’s  darts  ; and  when  the  danger  of  his 
troops  made  him  forget  the  divine  omen,  a 
weapon,  thrown  from  a catapult,  pierced  his 
shield  and  breat-plate,  and  wounded  him  in  the 
shoulder.  Soon  afterwards  the  engines,  which 
had  been  used  in  the  siege  of  Tyre,  arrived  by 
sea.  A wall  of  incredible  height  and  breadth9 
was  run  entirely  round  the  city ; the  Macedo- 
nians raised  their  batteries  ; the  miners10  were 
busy  at  the  foundation ; breaches  were  effected; 
and,  after  repeated  assaults,  the  city  was  taken 
by  storm.  When  their  wall  was  undermined, 
and  their  gates  in  possession  of  the  enemy,  the 
inhabitants  still  fought  desperately,  and  without 
losing  ground,11  perished  to  a man.  Their  wives 
and  children  were  enslaved  ; and  Gaza,  being 
repeopled  from  the  neighbouring  territory,  serv- 
ed as  a place  of  arms  to  restrain  the  incursions 
of  the  Arabs. 

The  obstinate  resistance  of  the 
obscure  fortress  of  Gaza,  was  con- 
AXlp  w trasted  by  the  ready  submission  of 
A.  C.  332.  ^ ceiebrated  kingdom  of  Egypt. 
In  seven  days’  march,  Alexander  reached  the 
maritime  city  of  Pelusium,  to  which  he  had 
previously  sent  the  fleet,  with  an  injunction 
carefully  to  examine  the  neighbouring  coasts, 
lakes,  and  rivers.  His  decisive  victory  at  Issus, 
the  shameful  flight  of  Darius,  the  recent  sub- 
jugation of  Syria  and  Phoenicia,  together  with 
the  actually  defenceless  state  of  Egypt  (Ma- 
zaces,  the  satrap  of  that  large  province,  having 
no  Persian,  and  scarcely  any  regular  troops,) 
opened  a ready  passage  to  the  wealthy  capital 
of  Memphis.  There,  Alexander  was  received 
as  sovereign,  and  immediately  afterwards  ac- 
knowledged by  the  whole  nation ; a nation 
long  accustomed  to  fluctuate  between  one  ser- 
vitude and  another,  always  ready  to  obey  the 
first  summons  of  an  invader,  and  ever  willing 
to  betray  him  for  a new  master.  Grateful  for 
his  unexampled  success,  Alexander  sacrificed  at 
Memphis  to  the  Egyptian  gods,  and  celebrated 
in  that  city  gymnastic  and  musical  games, 
which  were  adorned  by  Grecian  artists, , ac- 
companying him  for  that  purpose.  Having 
placed  sufficient  garrisons  both  in  Mempis  and 
Pelusium,  he  embarked  with  the  remainder  of 
his  forces,  and  sailed  down  the  Nile  to  Ca- 
nopus.12 

At  this  place  Alexander  found  abundant  oc- 
cupation for  his  policy,  in  a country  where  there 
was  no  opportunity  for  exercising  his  valour. 
Continually  occupied  with  the  thoughts,  not 
only  of  extending,  but  of  improving,  his  con- 
quests, the  first  glance  of  his  discerning  eye 


8 While  Alexander  was  sacrificing,  a bird  of  prey  let  fall 
a stone  on  his  head.  According  to  Aristander,  the  sooth- 
sayer, this  prodigy  portended  that  the  city  should  he  taken, 
but  that  Alexander  would  he  exposed  to  danger  in  the  siege. 

9 Evgoj  /xiv  eg  Su o oraJiOuj,  u\J/oj  $e  eg  rroi’xg  7revrv\- 

xoi/rot  gixxoo r»ous*  “Two  furlongs  in  breadth,  two 

hundred  and  fifty  feet  iD  height;”  but  the  text  is  absurdly 
erroneous. 

10  'CttovO/xuv  re  ceXX.il  xsei  ceX.X.1)  ogvtreroftsvwv.  Arrian,  p. 
51.  This  was  an  uncommon  expedient,  and  used  only  on 
great  emergencies. 

11  Kx»  XTTsticei'OV  7r»vrsg  ceurou  fxxy'o/xev'H  <ug  {Xscttoj 

*Toe%$if<ri*v.  The  highest  panegyric,  being  the  very  words 
applied  by  Lysias,  Herodotus,  &c.  to  those  who  fell  ut 
Thermopylae. 

12  Arrian,  p.  51,  et  soq. 


perceived  what  the  boasted  wisdom  of  Egypt 
had  never  been  able  to  discover.  The  inspection 
of  the  Mediterranean  coast,  of  the  Red  Sea, 
of  the  lake  Maroeotis,  and  of  the  various 
branches  of  the  Nile,  suggested  the  design  of 
founding  a city,  which  should  derive,  from 
nature,  only,  more  permanent  advantages  than 
the  favour  of  the  greatest  princes  can  bestow* *. 
Fired  with  this  idea,  he  not  only  fixed  the 
situation,13  but  traced  the  plan  of  his  intended 
capital,  described  the  circuit  of  its  walls,  and 
assigned  the  ground  for  its  squares,  market- 
places, and  temples.14  Such  was  the  sagacity 
of  his  choice,  that  within  the  space  of  twenty 
years,  Alexandria  rose  to  distinguished  emi- 
nence among  the  cities  of  Egypt  and  the  East, 
and  continued,  through  all  subsequent  ages  of 
antiquity,  the  principal  bond  of  union,  the  seat 
of  correspondence  and  commerce,  among  the 
civilized  nations  of  the  earth. 

Olvmn  ^yP^’  an  inclination  seized 

cxil  i Alexander  to  traverse  the  southern 
A C 332  coas^  Mediterranean,  that  he 

might  visit  the  revered  temple  and 
oracle  of  Jupiter  Ammon.  This  venerable 
shrine  was  situate  in  a cultivated  spot  of  five 
miles  in  diameter,  distant  about  fifty  leagues 
from  the  sea,  and  rising  with  the  most  attrac- 
tive beauty  amidst  the  sandy  deserts  of  Lybia. 
Among  the  African  and  Asiatic  nations,  the 


oracle  of  Ammon  enjoyed  a similar  authority 
to  that  which  Delphi  had  long  held  in  Greece; 
and,  perhaps,  the  conquest  of  the  East  could  not 
have  been  so  easily  accomplished  by  Alexander, 
had  he  not  previously  obtained  the  sanction  of 
this  venerated  shrine.  Guided  by  prudence,  or 
impelled  by  curiosity,  he  first  proceeded  two 
hundred  miles  westward,  along  the  coast  to 
Paraetonius,  through  a desolate  country,  but 
not  destitute  of  water.  He  then  boldly  pene- 
trated towards  the  south,  into  the  midland  ter- 
ritory, despising  the  danger  of  traversing  an 
ocean  of  sand,  unmarked  by  trees,  mountains, 
or  any  other  object  that  might  direct  his  course, 
or  vary  this  gloomy  scene  of  uniform  sterility.15 
The  superstition  of  the  ancients  believed  him 
to  have  been  conducted  by  ravens,  or  serpents; 
which,  without  supposing  a miracle,  may, 
agreeably  to  the  natural  instinct  of  animals, 
have  sometimes  bent  their  course,  through  the 
desert,  towards  a well-watered  and  fertile  spot, 
covered  with  palms  and  olives.  The  fountain, 
which  was  the  source  of  this  fertility,  formed 
not  the  least  curiosity  of  the  place.  It  was  ex- 
ceedingly cool  at  mid-day,  and  warm  at  mid- 
night ; and  in  the  intervening  time,  regularly, 
every  day,  underwent  all  the  intermediate  de- 


13  Egypt,  says  Baron  Tott,  who  lately  surveyed  that 
country  with  the  eye  of  nn  engineer  and  a statesman,  was 
formed  to  unite  the  commerce  of  Europe,  Africa,  and  the 
Indies,  ft  stood  in  need  of  a harbour,  vast,  and  of  easy  ac- 
cess. The  mouths  of  the  Nile  afford  neither  of  these  ad- 
vantages; the  only  proper  situation  was  distant  twelve 
leagues  from  the  river,  and  in  the  heart  of  a desert.  On 
this  spot,  which  none  but  a great,  genius  could  have  disco- 
vered, Alexander  built  a city,  which,  being  joined  to  the 
Nile  by  a navignble  cannl,  became  the  capital  of  nations, 
the  metropolis  of  commerce.  The  trading  nations  of  the 
earth  still  respect  its  ruins,  heaped  up  bv  barbarism,  and 
which  require  but  the  operation  of  a beneficent  hand,  to  re- 
store the  boldest  edifice  which  the  human  mind  ever  dared 
to  coneeive.  Mem.  du  Baron  de  Tott.  t.  ii.  p.  179. 

14  Arrian,  1.  iii.  sub.  init. 

15  Arrain,  p.  53  et  Curtius,  1.  iv.  c.  vii. 


440 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


grees  of  temperature.  The  adjacent  territory 
produced  a fossile  salt,  which  was  often  dug 
out  in  large  oblong  pieces,  clear  as  crystal. 
The  priests  of  Ammon  inclosed  it  in  boxes  of 
palm-trees,  and  bestowed  it,  in  presents,  on 
kings  and  other  illustrious  personages;  such 
salt  being  regarded  as  purer  than  that  procured 
from  sea  water,  and  therefore  preferred  for  the 
purpose  of  sacrifice,  by  persons  curious  in  their 
worship.1 

Alexander  admired  the  nature  'of  the  place, 
consulted  the  oracle  concerning  the  success  of 
his  expedition,  and  received,  as  was  universally 
reported,  a very  favourable  answer.2  Having 
thus  effected  his  purpose  at  the  temple  of  Am- 
mon, he  returned  to  Memphis,  in  order  finally 
to  settle  the  affairs  of  Egypt.  The  inhabitants 
of  that  country  were  reinstated  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  their  ancient  religion  and  laws.  Two 
Egyptians  were  appointed  to  administer  the 
civil  government ; but  the  principal  garrisons, 
Alexander  prudently  entrusted  to  the  command 
of  his  most  confidential  friends;3  a policy  alike 
recommended  by  the  strength  and  importance 
of  the  country,  and  by  the  restless  temper  of  its 
inhabitants. 

The  Macedonians  had  now  extended  their 
arms  over  Anatolia,  Carmania,  Syria,  and 
Egypt ; countries  which  anciently  formed  the 
seat  of  arts  and  empire,  and  which  actually 
compose  the  strength  and  centre  of  the  Turk- 
ish power.  But  Darius  (after  all  hopes  of  ac- 
commodation had  vanished  with  a conqueror 
who  demanded  unconditional  submission  to  his 
clemency)4  still  found  resources  in  his  eastern 
provinces,  Schirvan,  Gilan,  Corosan,  and  the 
wide  extent  of  territory  between  the  Caspian 
and  the  Jaxartes.  Not  only  the  subjects  of  the 
empire,  but  the  independent  tribes  in  those  remote 
regions,  which  in  ancient  and  modern  times  have 
ever  been  the  abode  of  courage  and  barbarity, 
rejoiced  in  an  opportunity  to  signalize  their 
restless  valour.  At  the  first  summons,  they 
poured  down  into  the  fertile  plains  of  Assyria, 
and  increased  the  army  of  Darius  far  beyond 
any  proportion  of  force  which  he  had  hitherto 
collected. 

q,  Mean  while,  Alexander  having 

cxn2  ' received  considerable  reinforce- 

A C 331  ments  fr°m  Greece,  Macedon,  and 
Thrace,  pursued  his  journey  east- 
ward from  Phoenicia,  passed  the  Euphrates  at 
Thapsacus,5  boldly  stemmed  the  rapid  stream 


1 Arrian,  p.  53,  et  seq.  et  Curtius,  1.  iv.  c.  vii. 

2 Vid.  Plut.  Alexand.  p.  680.  The  priest,  or  prophet, 
meant  to  address  Alexander  by  the  affectionate  title  of 
wsn^iov,  child,  son;  but  not  being  sufficiently  acquainted 
with  the  Greek  tongue,  he  said,  tt**  £*0?,  son  of  Jupiter. 
On  this  wretched  blunder  were  founded  Alexander’s  pre- 
tensions to  divinity.  Plut.  ibid,  et  Zonar.  Annal.  i.  p.  134. 
The  fictions  of  Curtius  are  inconsistent  with  Arrian,  and 
with  Strabo,  1.  xvii.  p.  1168. 

3 Arrian  observes,  that  the  Romans  seem  to  have  imi- 
tJfted  the  jealousy  of  Alexander  respecting  Egypt.  Sensible 
of  the  temptations  of  the  governors  of  that  province  to  revolt, 
they  appointed,  not  senators,  but  men  of  the  equestrian 
order,  to  be  proconsuls  of  Egypt.  Arrian,  p.  55. 

4 In  this,  Arrian  and  Curtius  asree.  The  letters  between 
Alexander  and  Darius  are  differently  expressed  by  these 
writers.  In  both  their  accounts,  which  are  totallv  inconsis- 
tent with  each  other,  there  are  internal  marks  of  falsehood. 

5 Darius  had  entrusted  the  defence  of  the  pass  to  Maza- 

cus,  with  a body  of  cavalry,  of  which  two  thousand  were 

Greeks.  But  on  the  first  intelligence  of  Alexander’s  ap- 


[Chap. 

of  the  Tigris,  and  hastened  to  meet  the  enemy 
in  Assyria.  Darius  had  pitched  his  tents  on 
the  level  banks  of  the  Bumadus,  near  the  ob- 
scure village  of  Gaugamela ; but  the  famous 
battle,  which  finally  decided  the  empire  of  the 
East,  derived  its  name  from  Arbela,  a town  in 
the  same  province,  sixty  miles  distant  from  the 
former,  better  known,  and  of  easier  pronuncia- 
tion.6 

The  fourth  day  after  passing  the  Tigris,  Al- 
exander was  informed  by  his  scouts,  that  they 
had  seen  some  bodies  of  the  enemy’s  horse,  but 
could  not  discover  their  numbers.  Upon  this 
intelligence  he  marched  forward  in  order  of 
battle  ; but  had  not  proceeded  far,  when  he 
was  met  by  other  scouts,  who  having  pene- 
trated deeper  into  the  country,  or  examined 
with  greater  accuracy,  acquainted  him  that  the 
hostile  cavalry  scarcely  exceeded  a thousand. 
This  news  made  him  alter  his  measures.  The 
heavy-armed  troops  were  commanded  to  slacken 
their  pace.  At  the  head  of  the  royal  cohort, 
the  Poeonians,  and  auxiliaries,  Alexander  ad- 
vanced with  such  celerity,  that  several  of 
the  Barbarians  fell  into  his  hands.  These  pri- 
soners gave  him  very  alarming  accounts  of 
the  strength  of  Darius,  who  was  encamped 
within  a few  hours’  march.  Some  made  it 
amount  to  a million  of  foot,  forty  thousand 
horse,  two  hundred  armed  chariots,  and  fifteen 
elephants  from  the  eastern  banks  of  the  Indus.7 
Others  exaggerated  (if  indeed  it  was  an  exag- 
geration) with  more  method  and  probability, 
reducing  the  infantry  to  six  hundred  thousand, 
and  raising  the  cavalry  to  a hundred  and  forty- 
five  thousand.®  But  all  agreed,  that  the  pre- 
sent army  was  greatly  more  numerous,  and 
composed  of  more  warlike  nations,  than  that 
which  had  fought  at  Issus.9 

Alexander  received  this  information  without 
testifying  the  smallest  surprise.  Having  com- 
manded a halt,  he  encamped  four  days  to  give 
his  men  rest  and  refreshment.  His  camp  being 
fortified  by  a good  intrenchment,  he  left  in  it 
the  sick  and  infirm,  together  with  all  the  bag- 
gage ; and  on  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day, 
prepared  to  march  against  the  enemy,  with  the 
effective  part  of  his  army,  which  was  said  to 
consist  of  forty  thousand  infantry,  and  seven 
thousand  horse,  unincumbered  with  any  thing 
but  their  provisions  and  armour.  The  march 
was  undertaken  at  the  second  watch  of  the 
night,  that  the  Macedonians,  by  joining  battle 
in  the  morning,  might  enjoy  the  important  ad- 
vantage of  having  an  entire  day  before  them, 
to  reap  the  full  fruits  of  their  expected  victory. 
About  half  way  between  the  hostile  camps, 
some  eminences  intercepted  the  view  of  either 
army.  Having  ascended  the  rising  ground, 
Alexander  first  beheld  the  Barbarians,  drawn 
up  in  battle  array,  and  perhaps  more  skilfully 


proach,  Mazacus  abandoned  his  post,  and  drew  off  his 
forces.  Arrian,  p.  56. 

6 This  reason,  which  is  given  by  Arrian,  could  scarcely 
have  appeared  valid  to  any  but  a Greek.  Vid.  Arrian,  p. 
131. 

7 Arrian,  p.  57. 

8 Curtius,  1.  iv.  c.  xii.  xiii.  edit.  Genev.  The  number* 
are  different  in  the  other  editions. 

9 Arrian  et  Curtius,  loc.  citat.  Justin.  1.  xi.  c.  xii.  Dio- 
dorus, 1.  xvii.  c.  xxxix.  et  liii.  Orasius,  I.  iii.  c.  xvii.  Plut. 
in  Alexand. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


441 


XXXVIII.] 

marshalled  than  he  had  reason  to  apprehend. 
Their  appearance,  at  least,  immediately  deter- 
mined him  to  change  his  first  resolution.  He 
again  commanded  a halt,  summoned  a council 
of  war;  and  different  measures  being  proposed, 
acceded  to  the  single  opinion  of  Parmenio,  who 
advised  that  the  foot  should  remain  stationary, 
until  a detachment  of  horse  had  explored  the 
field  of  battle,10  and  carefully  examined  the 
disposition  of  the  enemy.  Alexander,  whose 
Gonduct  was  equalled  by  his  courage,  and  both 
surpassed  by  his  activity,  performed  those  im- 
portant duties  in  person,  at  the  head  of  his 
light  horse,  and  royal  cohort.  Having  returned 
with  unexampled  celerity,  he  again  assembled 
his  captains  and  encouraged  them  by  a short 
speech.  Their  ardour  corresponded  with  his 
own ; and  the  soldiers,  confident  of  victory, 
were  commanded  to  take  rest  and  refresh- 
ment.11 

Mean  while,  Darius  perceiving  the  enemy’s 
approach,  kept  his  men  prepared  for  action. 
Notwithstanding  the  great  length  of  the  plain, 
he  was  obliged  to  contract  his  front,  and  form 
in  two  lines,  each  of  which  was  extremely 
deep.  According  to  the  Persian  custom,  the 
king  occupied  the  centre  of  the  first  line,  sur- 
rounded by  the  princes  of  the  blood,  and  the 
great  officers  of  his  court,  and  defended  by  his 
horse  and  foot  guards,  amounting  to  fifteen 
thousand  chosen  men.  These  splendid  troops, 
who  seemed  fitter  for  parade  than  battle,  were 
flanked,  on  either  side,  by  the  Greek  mercena- 
ries, and  other  warlike  battalions,  carefully  se- 
lected from  the  whole  army.  The  right  wing 
consisted  of  the  Medes,  Parthians,  Hyrcanians, 
and  Sacse ; the  left  was  chiefly  occupied  by  the 
Bactrians,  Persians,  and  Cardusians.  The  va- 
rious nations  composing  this  immense  host, 
were  differently  armed,  with  swords,  spears, 
clubs,  and  hatchets ; while  the  horse  and  foot 
of  each  division  were  promiscuously  blended, 
rather  from  the  result  of  accident,  than  by  the 
direction  of  design.  The  armed  chariots  fronted 
the  first  line,  whose  centre  was  farther  defend- 
ed by  the  elephants.  Chosen  squadrons  of 
Scythian,  Bactrian,  and  Cappadocian  cavalry 
advanced  before  either  wing,  prepared  to  bring 
on  the  action,  or  after  it  began,  to  attack  the 
enemy  in  flank  and  rear. 

The  unexpected  approach  of  Alexander  with- 
in sight  of  his  tents,  prevented  Darius  from 
fortifying  the  wide  extent  of  his  camp  ; and,  as 
he  dreaded  a nocturnal  assault,  from  enemies 
who  often  veiled  their  designs  in  darkness,  he 
commanded  his  men  to  remain  all  night  under 
arms.  This  unusual  measure,  the  gloomy  si- 
lence, the  long  and  anxious  expectation,  toge- 


10  Ti)i/  irxrxv  ivx  to  epyov  tirsa-Bxi  t/usKKi v. 

“The  whole  scene  of  the  future  action.”  Arrinn,  p.  8. 

11  As  i ttvottoi  e iiri  xi  xxi  x vxttxvsvSxi  cxeKivn  tov  trrgx- 
rov.  “ He  commanded  his  army  to  sup  and  rest.”  Arrinn, 
p.  58.  This  does  not  well  agree  with  what  is  said,  p.  57. 
ovSiv  xkko  on  m oirhx  etcovo-i,  “That,  the  soldiers  car- 
ried nothing  but  their  nrmour.”  ( have  therefore  supplied 
the  word  “provisions.”  Both  Arrian  (loc.  citat.)  and  Cur- 
tius,  1.  iv.  c.  xiii.  say,  that  Parmenio  exhorted  Alexander  to 
attack  the  enemy  in  the  night ; to  which  the  king  answered, 
that  he  disdained  xA.ty*i  t as  vixsv,-“to  steal  the  victory:” 
an  answer  worthy  of  his  magnanimity  and  his  prudence ; 
since  the  day  and  the  light  were  more  favourable  to  the  full 
exertion  and  display  of  his  superior  skill  and  courage. 

3 K 


ther  with  the  fatigue  of  a restless  night,  discou 
raged  the  whole  army,  but  inspired  double  ter- 
ror into  those  who  had  witnessed  the  miserable 
disasters  on  the  banks  of  the  Granicus  and  the 
Issus. 

At  day-break,  Alexander  disposed  his  troops 
in  a manner  suggested  by  the  superior  numbers 
and  deep  order  of  the  enemy.  His  main  body 
consisted  in  two  heavy-armed  phalanxes,  each 
amounting  to  above  sixteen  thousand  men.  Of 
these,  the  greater  part  formed  into  one  line  ; 
behind  which,  he  placed  the  heavy-armed  men, 
reinforced  by  his  targeteers,  with  orders,  that 
when  the  out-spreading  wings  of  the  enemy 
prepared  to  attack  the  flanks  and  rear  of  his 
first  line,  the  second  should  immediately  wheel 
to  receive  them.12  The  cavalry  and  light  in- 
fantry were  so  disposed  on  the  wings,  that 
while  one  part  resisted  the  shock  of  the  Per- 
sians in  front,  another,  by  only  facing  to  the 
right  or  left,  might  take  them  in  flank.  Skil- 
ful archers  and  darters  were  posted  at  pro- 
per intervals,  as  affording  the  best  defence 
against  the  armed  chariots,  which  (as  Alexan- 
der well  knew)  must  immediately  become  use- 
less, whenever  their  conductors  or  horses  were 
wounded. 

Having  thus  arranged  the  several  parts,  Al- 
exander with  equal  judgment  led  the  whole  in 
an  oblique  direction  towards  the  enemy’s  left; 
a manoeuvre  which  enabled  the  Macedonians  to 
avoid  contending  at  once  with  superior  num- 
l^ers.  When  his  advanced  battalions,  notwith 
standing  their  nearness  to  the  enemy,  still 
stretched  towards  the  right,  Darius  also  extend- 
ed his  left,  till  fearing  that  by  continuing  this 
movement  his  men  should  be  drawn  gradually 
on  the  plain,  he  commanded  the  Scythian 
squadrons  to  advance,  and  prevent  the  further 
extension  of  the  hostile  line.  Alexander  im- 
mediately detached  a body  of  horse  to  oppose 
them.  An  equestrian  combat  ensued,  in  which 
both  parties  were  reinforced,  and  the  Barbari- 
ans finally  repelled.  The  armed  chariots  then 
issued  forth  with  impetuous  violence  ; but  their 
appearance  only  was  formidable  ; for  the  pre- 
cautions taken  by  Alexander,  ren- 
dered their  assault  harmless.  Da- 
rius next  moved  his  main  body, 
but  with  so  little  order,  that  the 
horse,  mixed  with  the  infantry,  ad- 
vanced, and  left  a vacuity  in  the  line,  which  his 
generals  wanted  time  or  vigilance  to  supply. 
Alexander  seized  the  decisive  moment,  and 
penetrated  into  the  void  with  a wedge  of  squa- 
drons. He  was  followed  by  the  nearest  sec- 
tions of  the  phalanx,  who  rushed  forward  with 
loud  shouts,  as  if  they  had  already  pursued  the 
enemy.  In  this  part  of  the  field,  the  victory 
was  not  long  doubtful ; after  a feeble  resistance, 
the  Barbarians  gave  way  ; and  the  pusillani- 
mous Darius  was  foremost  in  the  flight.13 

The  battle,  however,  was  not  yet  decided. 
The  more  remote  divisions  of  the  phalanx, 
upon  receiving  intelligence  that  the  left  wing, 


Olymp. 
cxii.  2. 

A.  C.  331. 
October. 


]2  EirtTseJji  5t  xxi  Jiutjj xv  t«^  iv  u>{  iivxi  tijv  C xKxyyx 
a/u^ta-TOftov.  Arrinn,  p.  60.  The  $xKxy%  x/x^itto/zos  is 
explained  by  j*Elian,  as  described  in  the  text. 

13  E yuyt  tv  to  * 5 oTfw  to»s  (*»<r%£uis.  “ He  fled  Bhame- 
fully  among  the  foremost.”  Arrian,  p.  69. 


442 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


commanded  by  Parmenio,  was  in  danger,  had 
not  immediately  followed  Alexander.  A va- 
cant space  was  thus  left  in  the  Macedonian 
line,  through  which  some  squadrons  of  Persian 
and  Indian  horse  penetrated  with  celerity,  and 
advanced  to  the  hostile  camp.1  It  was  then 
that  Alexander  derived  signal  and  well-earned 
advantages  from  his  judicious  order  of  battle. 
The  heavy-arrned  troops  and  targeteers,  which 
he  had  skilfully  posted  behind  the  phalanx, 
speedily  faced  about,  advanced  with  a rapid 
step,  and  attacked  the  Barbarian  cavalry,  al- 
ready entangled  among  the  baggage.  The 
enemy  thus  surprised,  were  destroyed,  or  put 
to  flight.  Mean  while,  the  danger  of  his  left 
wing  recalled  Alexander  from  the  pursuit  of 
Darius.  In  advancing  against  the  enemy’s 
right,  he  was  met  by  the  Parthian,  Indian,  and 
Persian  horse,  who  maintained  a sharp  conflict. 
Sixty  of  the  Companions  fell ; Hephaestion, 
Ccenus,  and  Menidas,  were  wounded.  Having 
at  length  dissipated  this  cloud  of  cavalry,  Al- 
exander prepared  to  attack  the  foot  in  that 
wing.  But  the  business  was  already  effected, 
chiefly  by  the  Thessalian  horse  ; and  nothing 
remained  to  be  done,  but  to  pursue  the  fugi- 
tives, and  to  render  the  victory  as  decisive  as 
possible.2 


1 The  words  of  Arrian  are,  £jri<rTi|<r»vTss  t-^v 

qsxKxyyx  (viz.  the  sections  on  the  left,)  »yajv»^oi/ro,  ote 

TO  iVMVV/XOV  7T0V£HT$Xl  V\yyt'K'KSTO.  Kx<  T S6UTI)  TTXgXggXyS- 

i<r> js  xva-oiq  t>j?  Txjfetvq,  y.xrx  to  Sie% ov,  Suxtrxiovtri  tuiv 

T £ IvJjuVjTM/Ef  XXI  T»S  Il£f(rl)t>)S  E3T7T0U,  Xf  ITT  I TX  (TXSVO^OgX 

tu>v  MxxtSovaiv,  &c.  The  learned  Guischardt's  commen- 
tary is  ingenious,  but  scarcely  warranted  by  the  text.  “ Les 
sections  de  la  droite  de  la  phalange  ayant  donne  en  raeme 
temps  que  les  Peltastes,  les  autres  sections,  qui  etoient  par 
l’oblique  plus  ou  moins  en  arriere,  tacherent  aussi  de 
marcher  ens  avant,  etde charger  l’ennemi.  Mais  les  troupes 
de  la  droite  des  Perses,  voyant  le  fort  de  combat  au  centre, 
se  presserent  toutes  vers  cet  endroit  de  la  ligne,  en  se  pous- 
sant  mutuellemeni,  et  la  foule  embarassa  tellement  les  sol- 
dats  de  la  phalange,  qu’il  leur  fut  alors  impossible  de  s’avan- 
cer.  Sur  ces  en  refaites,  Alexandre,  pour  se  faire  jour,  se 
jetta  sur  les  derrieres  de  ces  ennemis.  En  meme  temps  la 
nouvelle  de  la  fuite  de  Darius,  et  de  la  deroute  de  toute  sa 
gauche  s’6tant  repandue,  la  consternation  devint  generate. 
L’effet  en  fut  singulier ; les  Perses  se  voyant  coupes,  dans 
leur  retraite,  par  les  escadrons  d’ Alexandre,  qu’ils  avoient 
a dos,  chercherent  a se  sauver,  meme  a travers  la  phalange. 
Ils  se  jetterent  a corps  perdu  sur  elle.  Quoique  de  vinsrt 
quatre  de  hauteur,  elle  ne  put  resister  au  poids  de  celte 
masse.  Sa  gauche  elant  alors  plus  chargee  que  sa  droite, 
les  sections,  de  celle-ci  pousserent  en  avant,  et  n’observe- 
rent  pp  que,  depuis  la  troisteme  section,  la  gauche  restoit 
en  arriere.  II  en  resulta  que  la  phalange  se  separa,  que  sa 
droite  s’avanca  a la  poursuite  de  l’ennemi,  et  que  des  corps 
nombreux  de  cavalerie  et  d’infanterie,  qui  avoient  ete  au 
centre  Persan,  entrerent  tout  a-coup  par  la  crevasse,  et  pous- 
serent jusques  derrifere  la  ligne  des  Macedoniens.”  See 
M6moires  Militaires,  c.  xv.  p.  221. 

2 Soldiers,  better  acquainted  with  the  practice  than 
with  the  theory  of  their  art,  have  often  testified  a just  sur- 
prise, that  the  battles  of  the  ancients  should  be  described 
with  an  order,  perspicuity,  and  circumstantial  minuteness, 
which  are  not  to  be  found  in  the  military  writers  of  modern 
times.  Scholars  have  endeavoured  to  explain  this  differ- 
ence, by  observing  the  immense  disproportion,  in  point  of 
dignity  and  abilities,  between  the  military  historians  of  mo- 
dern Europe,  and  those  of  Greece  and  Rome.  But  the 
difficulty  will  be  better  solved,  bv  reflecting  on  the  changes 
introduced  into  the  art  of  war  by  the  change  of  arms  ; 
which,  in  military  operations,  form  the  pivot  on  which  the 
whole  turns.  1.  From  the  nature  of  fire-arms,  modern 
battles  are  involved  in  smoke  and  confusion.  2.  From  the 
same  cause,  modern  armies  occupy  a much  greater  extent 
of  ground,  and  begin  to  act  at  much  greater  distances; 
which  renders  it  more  difficult  to  observe  and  ascertain  their 
manmuvres.  3.  The  immense  train  of  artillery,  ammuni- 
tion, &e.  required  in  the  practice  of  modern  war,  gives  a 
certain  immobility  to  our  armies,  which  renders  it  impos- 
sible to  perform,  without  great  danger,  those  rapid  evolu- 
tions in  sight  of  an  enemy,  which  so  often  decided  the  bat- 


[Chaf. 

According  !Be  extravagant  account  s 
with  the  loss  r*f  five  Hundred  men,  he  destroys, 
forty  thousand  of  the  Barbarians,3 . who  neve 
thenceforth  assemblea  :n  sufficient  numbers  t 
dispute  his  dominion  in  the  E^st.  The  invalue 
ble  provinces  of  Babylonia,  Susiana,  and  Persh 
with  their  respective  capitals  of  Babylon,  Susa 
and  Persepolis,4  formed  the  prize  of  his  skil 
and  valour.  Alexander  had  not  yet  attained 
the  summit  of  his  fortune,  but  he  had  already 
reached  the  height  of  his  renown.5  The  burn- 
ing of  the  royal  palace  of  Persepolis,6  to  reta- 
liate the  ravages  of  Xerxes  in  Greece,  afforded 
the  first  indication  of  his  being  overcome  by  too 
much  prosperity.  To  speak  the  most  favoura- 
bly of  this  transaction,  an  undistinguishing  re- 
sentment made  him  forget  that  he  destroyed 
his  own  palace,  not  that  of  his  adversary. 

The  settlement  of  his  important  and  exten- 
sive conquests,  and  the  reduction  of  the  warlike 
Uxii,  those  independent  mountaineers,  who, 
inhabiting  the  western  frontier  of  Persia,  had 
ever  defied  the  Persian  power,  restrained  Alex- 
ander from  urging  the  pursuit  of  Darius.  After 
his  defeat,  that  unfortunate  prince  escaped  by 
a precipitate  and  obscure7  flight  across  the  Ar- 


ties of  the  ancients.  With  us,  almost  every  thing  depends 
on  the  judicious  choice  of  ground,  a matter  requiring  great 

military  genius,  but  not  admitting  the  embellishments  of 
historical  description. 

3 In  the  battles  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  the  extraor- 
dinary disproportion  between  the  numbers  slain  on  the  side 
of  the  victors  and  of  the  vanquished,  necessarily  resulted 
from  the  nature  of  their  arms.  Their  principal  weapons 
being  not  missile,  but  manual,  armies  could  not  begin  to 
act  till  they  had  approached  so  nearly  to  each  other,  that 
the  conquered  found  themselves  cut  off  from  all  possibility 
of  retreat.  In  modern  times,  the  use  of  fire-arms  (which 
often  renders  the  action  itself  more  bloody)  furnishes  the 
defeated  party  with  various  means  of  retreating  with  con- 
siderable safety.  The  sphere  of  military  action  is  so  widely 
extended  in  modern  times,  that  before  the  victors  can  run 
over  the  space  which  separates  them  from  the  vanquished, 
the  latter  may  fall  back,  and  proceed  with  little  loss  beyond 
their  reach;  and  should  any  village,  hedge,  ravine,  &c. 
be  found  in  their  wav,  may  often  check  the  ardour  of  the 
pursuers.  #Upon  these  considerations,  the  invention  of 
gunpowder  may  be  said  to  have  saved  the  effusion  of  hu- 
man blood.  Equestrian  engagements  (s  nee  the  principles 
on  which  cavalry  act  remain  nearly  the  same  in  every  age) 
are  still  distinguished  by  similar  circumstances  to  those 
which  appear  so  extraordinary  in  the  battles  of  antiquity. 

4 The  gold  and  silver  found  in  those  cities,  amounted  to 
thirty  milions  sterling;  the  jewels  and  other  precious  spoil, 
belonging  to  Darius,  sufficed,  according  to  Plutarch,  to  load 
twenty  thousand  mules,  and  five  thousand  camels.  Plut. 
in  Alexand. 

5 After  the  battle  of  Arbela,  many  of  Alexander’s  ac- 
tions, as  will  appear  in  the  text,  deserve  the  highest  praise; 
but,  before  that  period,  few  of  them  can  be  justly  blamed. 

6 Arrian,  1.  iii.  p.  66.  Plut.  in  Alexand.  and  Strabo,  1.  xv. 
p.  502.  agree  with  Arrian  in  confining  the  conflagration  to 
the  palace.  Plutarch  tells  us,  that  only  a part  of  that  edi- 
fice was  consumed.  D odorus  says  inaccurately,  o iregi 
Tyv  £x<ri\e ixv  Tox-oq,  “ the  place  around  the  pa'ace  and 
Curtius,  1.  v.  c.  vii.  with  his  usual  extravagance,  burns  the 
whole  city  of  Persepolis  so  completely,  that  not  a vestige  of 
it  remained.  The  learned  author  of  the  Examen  Critique 
des  Historiens  d’  Alexandre,  is  at  pains  to  prove  that  Perse- 
polis existed  under  the  successors  of  Alexander,  and  con- 
tinued to  exist  till  the  first  ages  of  Mahometanism,  when  the 
inhabitants  of  Persepolis,  having  violated  their  treaty  with 
the  Musselmen,  were  butchered  without  mercy,  and  their 
city  totally  demolished.  See  Examen  Critique,  p.  125,  et 
seq.  Mr.  D’Hankerville,  however,  alleges  reasons  for  be- 
lieving that  there  were  two  cities  called  Persepolis  by  the 
Greeks,  senate  at  a considerable  distance  from  each  other, 
one  of  which  was  burnt  by  Alexander,  and  the  other  de- 
stroyed by  the  Musselmen.  See  his  Supplement  to  hia 
Recherches  sur  les  Arts,  &c.  de  la  Gr£ce. 

7 Arrian  observes,  that  Darius  showed  great  judgment  in 
his  flight,  having  left  the  populous  and  well-frequented 
roads  leading  to  Susa  and  Babylon,  towards  which  h« 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


443 


XXXVIII.] 

menian  mountains  into  Media.  Being  gradu- 
ally joined  by  the  scattered  remnant  of  his 
army,  amoui;tn:g  to  several  thousand  Barba- 
rians, and  fifteen  hundred  Greek  mercenaries, 
he  purposed  to  establish  his  court  in  Media, 
should  Alexander  remain  at  Susa  or  Babylon  ;8 
but  in  case  he  were  still  pursued  by  the  con- 
queror, his  resolution  was  to  proceed  eastward, 
through  Parthia  and  Hyrcania,  into  the  valua- 
ble province  of  Bactria,  laying  waste  the  inter- 
mediate country,  that  he  might  thus  interpose 
a desert  between  himself  and  the  Macedonians. 
In  this  design,  he  despatched  to  the  Caspian 
Gates  the  wagons  conveying  his  women,  and 
such  instruments  of  convenience  or  luxury  as 
still  softened  his  misfortunes;  and  remained  in 
person  at  Ecbatana,  with  his  army.  Alexan- 
der, when  apprised  of  these  measures,  hastened 
into  Media.  In  his  way  he  subdued  the  Pari- 
tacae;  and  having  reached  within  three  days’ 
march  of  the  Median  capital,  was  met  by  Bis- 
thanes,  the  son  of  Ochus,  Darius’s  predeces- 
sor.9 This  prince  informed  him,  that  Darius 
had  fled  from  thence  five  days  before,  attended 
by  three  thousand  horsemen,  and  six  thousand 
foot. 

Animated  by  this  intelligence,  Alexander 
proceeded  to  Ecbatana,  in  which  place  he  left 
his  treasures,  and  posted  a strong  garrison.  In 
this  city  he  likewise  dismissed  the  Thessalian 
cavalry,  and  several  auxiliary  squadrons;  pay- 
ing them,  besides  their  arrears,  a gratuity  of  two 
thousand  talents.  Such  as  preferred  the  glory 
of  accompanying  his  standard  to  the  joy  of  re- 
visiting their  respective  countries,  were  allowed 
again  to  enlist ; a permission  which  many  em- 
braced. A strong  detachment  under  Parmenio 
was  sent  into  Hyrcania;  Caenas,  who  had  been 
left  sick  at  Susa,  was  commanded  to  march 
with  all  convenient  speed  into  Parthia;  while 
the  king,  with  a well-appointed  army,  advanced 
with  incredible  expedition10  in  pursuit  of  Da- 
rius. Having  passed  the  Caspian  Straits,  he 
was  met  by  Bagistanes,  a Babylonian  of  distinc- 
tion, who  acquainted  him  Ihat  Bessus,  gover- 
nor of  Bactria,  in  conjunction  with  Nabarzanes, 
an  officer  in  Darius’s  cavalry,  and  Barzaentes, 
satrap  of  the  barbarous  Drang®  and  Arachoti, 
had  thrown  aside  all  respect  for  a prince,  who 
was  no  longer  an  object  of  fear.  Upon  this  in- 
telligence, Alexander  declared  expedition  to  be 
more  necessary  than  ever.  Having,  therefore, 
left  the  heavy-armed  troops  and  baggage  under 
the  command  of  Craterus,  he  hastened  forward 


justly  suspected  that  Alexander  would  march  his  army, 
and  directing  his  course  over  'he  Armeninn  mountains  into 
Media.  Arrian,  p.  63.  Diodorus,  1.  xvii.  p.  538.  agrees 
with  Arrian.  The  errors  of  Curtius,  1.  v.  c.  i.  are  too  ab- 
surd to  merit  refutation. 

8 The  foundation  of  this  hope  was,  that  a revolt  might 
break  out  in  the  Macedonian  army;  since  the  more  and  the 
richer  provinces  Alexander  acquired,  his  lieutenants  would 
have  the  greater  temptation  to  aspire  at  independence. 
Subsequent  events  will  justify  the  reasonable  expectation 
of  Darius,  which  was  on  this  occasion  disappointed. 

9 Arrian,  p.  66.  speaks  as  if  Ochus  had  been  Darius’s  im- 
mediate predecessor,  neglecting  the  short  reign  of  Arces, 
the  son  of  Ochus,  who  was  poisoned  soon  after  his  father 
by  the  eunuch  Bagoas.  Diodor.  xvii.  5.  /Elian.  Var.  Ilist. 
vi.  8. 

10  His  marches  were  thirty-eiffht  and  forty  miles  a day  : 
sometimes  more.  Xenophon’s  expedition  of  Cyrus,  and 
Arrian’s  expedition  of  Alexander,  mutually  illustrate  and 
confirm  each  olhor. 


with  few  select  bands,  encumbered  only  with 
their  arms  and  two  days’  provisions.  In  that 
space  of  time,  he  reached  the  camp  from  which 
Bagistanes  had  deserted ; and  finding  some 
parties  of  the  enemy  there,  learned  that  Darius, 
being  seized  and  bound,  was  actually  carried 
prisoner  in  his  chariot;  that  Bessus,  in  whose 
province  this  treason  had  been  committed,  had 
assumed  the  imperial  honours;  that  all  the 
Barbarians  (Artabazus  only  and  his  sons  ex- 
cepted) already  acknowledged  the  usurper; 
that  the  Greek  mercenaries  preserved  their 
fidelity  inviolate;  but  finding  themselves  unable 
to  prevent  the  flagitious  scenes  that  were  trans- 
acting, had  quitted  the  public  road,  and  retired 
to  the  mountains,  disdaining  not  only  to  parti- 
cipate in  the  designs,  but  even  to  share  the 
same  camp  with  the  traitors.  Alexander  far- 
ther learned,  that  should  he  pursue  Bessus  and 
his  associates,  it  was  their  intention  to  make 
peace  with  him  by  delivering  up  Darius;  but 
should  he  cease  from  the  pursuit,  that  they  had 
determined  to  collect  forces,  and  to  divide  the 
eastern  provinces  of  the  empire. 

Olvmn  Having  received  this  information, 

cxii  3""  Alexander  marched  all  night,  and 
A C *330  next  ^ noon’  the  utmost 
' 0 * speed,  but  without  overtaking  the 

enemy.  He  therefore  dismounted  five  hundred 
of  his  cavalry,  placed  the  bravest  of  his  foot, 
completely  armed,  on  horseback ; and  com- 
manded Attalus  and  Nicanor  to  pursue  the 
great  road  which  Bessus  had  followed,  ad- 
vance in  person  with  his  chosen  band  by  a 
nearer  way,  which  was  almost  desert,  and  en- 
tirely destitute  of  water.  The  natives  of  the 
country  were  his  guides.  From  the  close  of 
the  evening  till  day-break  he  had  rode  near 
fifty  miles,  when  he  first  discovered  the  enemy 
flying  in  disorder,  and  unarmed.  Probably  to 
facilitate  their  own  escape,  Satibarzanes  and 
Barzaentes  stabbed  Darius,  and  then  rode  away 
with  Bessus,  accompanied  by  six  hundred 
horse.  Notwithstanding  the  celerity  of  Alex- 
ander, the  unhappy  Darius  expired  before  the 
conqueror  beheld  him.11  Darius  was  the  last 
king  of  the  house  of  Hystaspes,  and  the  tenth 
in  succession  to  the  monarchy  of  Cyrus.  That 
he  was  neither  brave  nor  prudent,  his  conduct 
sufficiently  evinces;  but  the  uninterrupted  chain 
of  his  calamities  would  have  prevented  him 
(had  he  been  otherwise  inclined)  from  imitat- 
ing the  injustice  and  cruelty  of  loo  many  of 
his  predecessors.12 

In  this  important  stage  of  his  fortune,  Alex- 
ander displayed  tender  sympathy  with  affiic- 


11  Such  is  the  simple  narration  of  Arrian.  The  fictions 
related  by  Plutarch  in  Alexand.  et  Curtius,  1.  v.  c.  xii.  et 
Justin,  I.  xi.  c.  xv.  are  inconsistent  with  each  other,  and  all 
of  them  betray  the  desire  to  contrast  the  exultation  and  de- 
pression of  the  fortune  of  Darius.  ‘ He  was  chained,”  says 
Curtius,  “with  golden  fetters;  hut  laid  in  a dirty  cart, 
covered  with  raw  hides.”  His  harangue  in  praise  of  Alex- 
ander would  be  mi  ral  ami  affecting,  were  it  not  totally  im- 
probable. 

12  Arrian  makrs  this  judicious  observation,  which  proves 
the  futility  of  the  Oriental  traditions  representing  Darius  as 
a monster  of  tvranny  nnd  cruelty.  See  D’Herbelot.  Bibl. 
Orientnle,  art  Darab.  p.  285.  Should  the  fashionable  seet>- 
ticism  of  the  times  hesitate  between  these  authorities,  the 
reader  has  only  to  ask,  what  Oriental  historian  has  related 
the  transactions  of  Darius  with  the  fulness  and  accuracy  so 
conspicuous  in  Arrian? 


444 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


tion,  warm  esteem  of  fidelity,  and  just  hatred 
of  treason.  He  gave  orders,  that  the  body  of 
Darius  should  be  transported  to  Persia,  and  in- 
terred in  the  royal  mausoleum.  The  children 
of  the  deceased  prince  were  uniformly  treated 
with  those  distinctions  which  belonged  to  their 
birth  ; and  Barcine,1  his  eldest  daughter,  was 
finally  espoused  by  Alexander.  The  pardon  of 
the  Greek  mercenaries,  who  were  admitted  into 
the  Macedonian  service,  and  the  honourable  re- 
ception of  Artabazus  and  his  sons,  well  became 
the  character  of  a prince,  who  could  discern 
and  reward  the  merit  of  his  enemies.  Alexan- 
der then  pursued  the  murderers  of  Darius 
through  the  inhospitable  territories  of  the  Arii 
and  Zarangaei,  and  in  two  days  accomplished  a 
journey  of  six  hundred  furlongs.  Having  re- 
ceived the  submission  of  Aornos2  and  Bactra, 
he  passed  the  deep  and  rapid  Oxus,  and  learn- 
ed, on  the  eastern  banks  of  this  river,  that  Bes- 
sus,  who  had  betrayed  his  master,  had  been 
betrayed  in  his  turn  by  Spitamenes.  The  for- 
mer was  surprised  by  the  Macedonians,  and 
treated  with  a barbarity3  better  merited  by  his 
own  crimes,  than  becoming  the  character  of 
Alexander. 

Spitamenes  succeeded  to  his  ambition  and 
danger.  In  pursuit  of  this  daring  rebel,  the 
resentment  of  Alexander  hurried  him  through 
the  vast  but  undescribed 1 provinces  of  Aria, 
Bactria,  Sogdiana,  and  other  less  considerable 
divisions  of  the  southern  region  of  Tartary. 

The  more  northern  and  indepen- 
dent tribes  of  that  immense  coun- 
try, whose  pastoral  life  formed  an 
admirable  preparation  for  war,  ven- 
tured to  take  arms  against  a con- 
queror w ho  hovered  on  the  frontier 
of  their  plains,  and  whose  camp  tempted  them 
with  the  prospect  of  a rich  plunder.  The  policy 
of  Spitamenes  inflamed  their  courage,  and  ani- 
mated their  hopes.  These  rude  nations,  and 
this  obscure  leader,  proved  the  most  dangerous 
enemies  with  whom  Alexander  ever  had  to 
contend.  Sometimes  they  faced  him  in  the 
field,  and  after  obstinately  resisting,  retreated 
skilfully.  Though  never  vanquished,  Alexan- 
der obtained  many  dear-bought  victories.  The 
Scythians,  on  several  occasions,  surprised  his 
advanced  parties,  and  interrupted  his  convoys. 
The  abruptness  of  their  attack  was  only  equal- 
led by  the  celerity  of  their  retreat;  their  num- 
bers, their  courage,  and  their  stratagems,  all 
rendered  them  formidable.* 5  But  the  enlighten- 


Olymp. 
cxii.  4. 
cxiii.  1. 
A.  C. 
328,  329. 


1 Called  by  some  writers  Statira. 

2 We  shall  meet  with  another  place  of  this  name,  be- 
tween the  Suastus  and  the  Indus. 

3 He  was  stripped  naked,  whipped,  shamefully  mutilat- 
ed, &c.  Arrian  arraigns  those  cruelties  as  unworthy  of  the 
Grecian  character:  but  he  warmly  approves  the  punish- 
ing of  Bessus,  and  the  other  murderers  of  Darius. 

4 The  erroneous  geography  of  the  ancients  is  laboriously 
compared  with  subsequent  discoveries,  in  the  learned  work 
entitled  Examen  des  Anciens  Historiens  d’ Alexandre;  and 
may  be  seen  at  one  glance,  by  comparing  the  maps,  usually 
prefixed  to  Quintus  Curtius,  with  the  admirable  maps  of 
D’Anville. 

5 In  one  action,  Arrian  tells  us,  that  only  forty  Macedo- 
nian horsemen,  and  three  hundred  foot,  escaped.  Arrian, 
1.  iv.  Curtius  mentions  another,  after  which  it  was  made 
death  to  divulge  the  number  of  the  slain.  Curtius,  1.  vii.c. 
vii.  Alexander  was  not  present  in  either  of  these  engage- 
ments;  but  in  a third  battle,  related  bv  Arrian,  the  Macedo- 
nians were  at  first  repelled,  many  of  them  wounded,  and 
the  king  struck  with  an  arrow,  which  broke  the  fibula,  or 


cxiii.  2. 

A.  C.  327 


[Chap. 

ed  intrepidity,  and  inimitable  discipline  of  the 
Greeks  and  Macedonians,  finally  prevailed  over 
Barbarian  craft,  and  desultory  fury.  Not  con- 
tented with  repelling  his  enemies,  Alexander 
crossed  the  Iaxartes,and  defeated  the  Scythians6 
on  the  northern  bank  of  that  river.  This  vic- 
tory was  sufficient  for  his  renown  ; and  the  ur- 
gency  of  his  affairs  soon  recalled  him  from  an 
inhospitable  desert. 

p..  The  provinces  between  the  Cas- 

} mP*  pian  and  the  Iaxartes  twice  rebelled, 
and  tw7ice  were  reduced  to  submis- 
sion. The  Barbarians  fighting  sing- 
ly were  successively  subdued;  their  bravest 
troops  were  gradually  intermixed  in  the  Mace- 
donian ranks  ; and  Alexander,  thus  continually 
reinforced  by  new  numbers,  was  enabled  to 
overawe  those  extensive  countries,  by  dividing 
his  army  into  five  formidable  brigades,  com- 
manded by  Hephsestion,  Ptolemy,  Perdiccas, 
Cffinus,7  and  himself.  Near  Gab®,  a fortress 
of  Sogdiana,  C®nus  attacked  and  defeated  Spi- 
tamenes. The  Sogdians  and  Bactrians  deserted 
their  unfortunate  general,  and  surrendered  their 
arms  to  the  conqueror.  The  Massagetse  and 
other  Scythians,  having  plundered  the  camp  of 
their  allies,  fled  with  Spitamenes  to  the  desert; 
but  being  apprised,  that  the  Macedonians  pre- 
pared to  pursue  them,  they  slew  this  active  and 
daring  chief,  whose  courage  deserved  a better 
fate  ; and  in  hopes  of  making  their  ow  n peace, 
sent  his  head  to  the  conqueror. 

After  the  death  of  Spitamenes, 
the  enemy  feebly  resisted  Alexan- 
der in  the  open  country ; but  in 
the  provinces  of  Sogdiana  and  Pa- 
r®tacene,  two  important  fortresses,  long  deem- 
ed impregnable,  still  bade  defiance  to  the  inva- 
der. Into  the  former,  Oxyartes  the  Bactrian, 
who  headed  the  rebellion  (for  so  the  Macedoni- 
ans termed  the  brave  defence  of  the  Bactrians,) 
had  placed  his  wife  and  children.  The  rock 


Olymp. 
cxiii.  2. 

A.  C.  327. 


lesser  bone  of  his  leg.  The  Macedonians,  however,  rallied, 

and  totally  defeated  the  enemy.  Arrian,  I.  iii.  sub  fin. 

6 Before  Alexander  passed  the  Iaxartes,  he  received  an 
embassy  probably  from  the  Abian  Scythians.  Their  ora- 
tion, omitted  by  all  the  Greek  writers,  is  preserved  in  Cur- 
tius, 1.  vii.  c.  viii.  It  is  remarkable  for  the  bold  elevated 
style,  in  which  these  Barbarians  display  their  own  advan- 
tages, and  describe  the  destructive  ambition  of  the  invader. 
In  both  respects,  it  agrees  with  the  admirable  harangue  of 
the  Caledonian  chieftain  Galgacus,  in  Tacitus’s  Life  of 
Agricola.  But  the  glowing  sentiments  of  those  independent 
and  high-minded  nations  are  invigorated  by  the  brevity  of 
Tacitus,  and  weakened  by  the  diffusiveness  of  Curtius. 
Both  orations  abound  in  metaphors.  “ Great  trees,”  say  the 
Scythians  to  Alexander,  “ require  long  lime  to  grow : the 
labour  of  a few  hours  levels  them  with  the  gmund.  Take 
care,  lest,  in  climbing  to  the  top,  you  should  fall  with  the 
branches  which  you  have  seized.  Grasp  Fortune  with  both 
your  hands;  she  is  slippery,  and  cannot  be  confined.  Our 
countrymen  describe  her  without  feet,  with  hands  only,  and 
wings.  Those  to  whom  she  stretches  out  her  hand,  she  al- 
lows not  to  touch  her  wings.  Rein  your  prosperity,  that  you 
may  more  easily  manage  it.  Our  poverty  will  be  swifter 
than  your  army  loaded  with  spoil.  We  range  the  plain  and 
the  forest;  we  disdain  to  serve,  and  desire  not  to  command.” 
The  figurative  style  of  the  Scythians  is  sufficiently  con-onant 
to  the  manners  of  barbarous  nations.  See  Principii  di  Sci- 
enza  nuova,  vol.  i.  p.  156,  et  seq.  See  likewise  chapters 
fifth  and  sixth  of  the  present  History.  Lc  Clerc,  therefore, 
speaks  with  equal  ignorance  and  severity,  when,  in  arraign- 
ing the  fidelity  of  Curtius,  he  says,  “Scythte  ipsi,  omnium 
literarum  mdos,  rhetorico  calamistro  inusti,  in  medium  pro- 
dennt.”  Judic.  Curt.  p.  326. 

7 Artabazus,  the  faithful  attendant  of  Darius,  and  after- 
wards the  friend  of  Alexander,  was  joined  in  the  command 
with  CtBnus.  Arrian. 


XXXVIII.] 

was  steep,  rugged,  almost  inaccessible,  and  pro-  I 
vided  with  corn  for  a long  siege.  The  deep 
snow,  by  which  it  was  surrounded,  increased  | 
the  difficulty  of  assaulting  it,  and  supplied  the 
garrison  with  water.  Alexander,  having  sum- 
moned the  Bactrians  to  surrender,  was  asked 
in  derision,  Whether  he  had  furnished  himself 
with  winged  soldiers?  This  insolence  picqued 
his  pride;  and  he  determined  to  make  himself 
master  of  the  place,  with  whatever  difficulties 
and  dangers  his  undertaking  might  be  attended. 
This  resolution  was  consonant  to  his  charac- 
ter. His  success  in  arms,  owing  to  the  re- 
sources of  his  active  and  comprehensive  mind, 
sometimes  encouraged  him  to  enterprises,  neither 
justified  by  necessity,  nor  warranted  by  pru- 
dence. Fond  of  war,  not  only  as  an  instrument 
of  ambition,  but  as  an  art  in  which  he  gloried 
to  excel,  he  began  to  regard  the  means  as  more 
valuable  than  the  end,  and  sacrificed  the  lives 
of  his  men  to  military  experiments,  alike  ha- 
zardous and  useless : yet,  on  the  present  occasion, 
sound  policy  seems  to  have  directed  his  mea- 
sures. Having  determined  soon  to  depart  from 
those  provinces,  he  might  judge  it  imprudent  to 
leave  an  enemy  behind : it  might  seem  neces- 
sary to  destroy  the  seeds  of  future  rebellion ; 
and,  by  exploits  unexampled  and  almost  incre- 
dible, to  impress  such  terror  of  his  name,  as 
would  astonish  and  overawe  his  more  distant 
and  warlike  dependencies. 

Alexander  carefully  examined  the  Sogdian 
fortress,  and  proposed  a reward  of  twelve  ta- 
lents8 to  the  man  who  should  first  mount  the 
top  of  the  rock  on  which  it  was  situated.  The 
second  and  third  were  to  be  proportionably  re- 
warded, and  even  the  last  of  ten  was  to  be  gra- 
tified with  the  sum  of  three  hundred  darics. 
The  hopes  of  this  recompence,  which,  in  the 
conception  of  the  Greeks  and  Macedonians, 
was  equally  honourable  and  lucrative,  stimulat- 
ed the  love  of  adventure,  so  conspicuous  in  both 
nations.  Three  hundred  men,  carefully  selected 
from  the  whole  army,  were  furnished  with 
ropes  made  of  the  strongest  flax,  and  with  iron 
pins  used  in  pitching  tents.  They  were  like- 
wise provided  with  small  pieces  of  linen,  which, 
being  joined  together,  might  serve  as  a signal. 
Thus  e mipped,  they  proceeded  at  the  close  of 
evening  towards  the  most  abrupt  side  of  the 
rock,  and  therefore  the  most  likely  to  be  un- 
guarded. By  driving  the  iron  pins  into  con- 
gealed snow,  and  then  fastening  to  them  the 
ropes,  they  gradually  hoisted  themselves  up  the 
mountain.  In  this  extraordinary  enterprise, 
thirty  men  perished,  whose  bodies  were  so 
profoundly  buried  in  the  snow,  that,  notwith- 
standing the  most  diligent  search,  they  could 
never  afterwards  be  recovered.  By  this  simple 
contrivance,  those  daring  adventurers  gained 
the  summit  of  the  rocks,  which  overlooked  the 
fortress;  and  waving  their  signal  in  the  morn- 
ing, were  discovered  by  Alexander.  At  this 
joyou«  sight,  he  summoned  the  besieged  to  sur- 
render to  his  winged  soldiers.  The  Barbarians 
beheld  and  trembled ; terror  multiplied  the 
number  of  their  enemies,  and  represented  them 


8 Above  *2000/.  equal  in  value  to  near  20,000/.  in  the  pre- 
sent age. 


445 

as  completely  armed  ; Alexander  was  invited  to 
take  possession  of  the  fortress.9 

This  obscure  and  even  nameless  castle  con- 
tained Roxana,  daughter  of  Oxyartes,  and 
deemed,  next  to  the  spouse  of  Darius,  the  great- 
est beauty  in  the  East.  Alexander  admired 
her  form  and  her  accomplishments;  but  even 
in  the  fervour  of  youth,  and  the  intoxication  of 
prosperity,  his  generous  mind  disdained  the  cruel 
rights  of  a conqueror,  as  justified  by  the  max- 
ims and  example  of  his  age  and  country.  With 
a moderation  and  self-command,  worthy  the 
scholar  of  Aristotle,  he  declined  the  embraces 
of  his  captive,  till  his  condescending  affection 
raised  her  to  the  throne,  choosing  rather  to  of- 
fend the  prejudices  of  the  Macedonians,  than  to 
transgress  the  laws  of  humanity.19 

In  Bactria,  Alexander  learned 
cxni  2*  that  Paraetacae  were  in  arms, 
A C 307  anC^  many  most  danger- 

l'  ous  enemies  had  shut  themselves 
up  in  the  fortress  or  rock  of  Chorienes.  Upon 
this  intelligence,  he  hastened  to  the  Paraetacene. 
The  height  of  the  rock,  which  was  every  where 
steep  and  craggy,  he  found  to  be  near  three 
miles,  and  its  circumference  above  seven.  It 
was  surrounded  by  a broad  and  deep  ditch,  at 
such  distance  from  the  base  as  placed  the  gar- 
rison beyond  the  reach  of  missile  weapons.  Al- 
exander gave  orders  that  the  fir  trees,  of  extra- 
ordinary height,  which  surrounded  the  moun- 
tain, should  be  cut  down,  and  formed  into  lad- 
ders, by  means  of  which,  his  men  descending 
the  ditch,  drove  huge  piles  into  the  bottom. 
These,  being  placed  at  proper  distances,  were 
covered  with  hurdles  of  ozier  consolidated  with 
earth.  In  this  occupation  his  whole  army  were 
employed  by  turns,  night  and  day.  The  Bar- 
barians at  first  derided  this  seemingly  useless 
labour.  But  their  insults  were  soon  answered 
by  Macedonian  arrows.  By  these,  and  other 
missile  weapons,  the  Macedonians,  who  were 
carefully  protected  by  their  coverings,  so  much 
annoyed  the  besieged,  that  the  latter  became 
desirous  to  capitulate.  For  this  purpose,  Cho- 
rienes, from  whom  the  place  derived  its  name, 
desired  to  converse  with  Oxyartes  the  Bactrian, 
who,  since  the  taking  of  his  wife  and  children, 
had  submitted  to  Alexander.  His  request  be- 
ing granted,  Oxyartes  strongly  exhorted  him  to 
surrender  his  fortress  and  himself,  assuring  him 
of  Alexander’s  goodness,  of  which  his  own 
treatment  furnished  an  eminent  example,  and 
declaring  that  no  place  was  impregnable  to 
such  troops  and  such  a general.  Chorienes  pru- 
dently followed  this  advice;  and,  by  his  speedy 
submission,  not  only  obtained  pardon,  but  gain- 
ed the  friendship  of  Alexander,  who  again  en- 
trusted him  with  the  command  of  his  fortress, 
and  the  government  of  his  province.  The  vast 
magazines  of  corn,  meat,  and  wine,  collected  by 
the  Parcetacae  for  a long  siege,  afforded  a sea- 
sonable supply  to  the  Macedonian  army,  espe- 
cially during  the  severity  of  winter,  in  a country 
covered  with  snow  many  feet  deep.11 

By  such  memorable  achievements,  Alexander 
subdued  the  nations  between  the  Caspian  sea, 
the  river  Iaxartes,  and  the  lofty  chain  of  moun- 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


9 Arrian,  p.  91,  et  gcq. 


10  Ibid. 


11  Ibid.  p.  92. 


446 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap. 


tains,  which  supply  the  sources  of  the  Indus 
and  the  Ganges.  In  the  conduct  of  this  remote 
and  dangerous  war,  the  great  abilities  of  the 
general  were  conspicuously  distinguished.  His 
example  taught  the  troops  to  despise  hunger, 
fatigue,  cold,  and  danger;  neither  rugged  moun- 
tains, nor  deep  and  rapid  rivers,  nor  wounds, 
nor  sickness,  could  interrupt  his  progress,  or 
abate  his  activity  : his  courage  exposed  him  to 
difficulties,  from  which  he  was  extricated  by 
new  efforts  of  courage,  which,  in  any  other 
commander  would  have  passed  for  temerity. 
Amidst  the  hardships  of  a military  life,  obstinate 
sieges,  bloody  battles,  and  dear-bought  victo- 
ries, he  still  respected  the  rights  of  mankind, 
and  practised  the  mild  virtues  of  humanity. 
The  conquered  nations  enjoyed  their  ancient 
laws  and  privileges;  the  rigours  of  despotism 
were  softened;  arts  and  industry  encouraged; 
and  the  proudest  Macedonian  governors  com- 
pelled, by  the  authority  and  example  of  Alex- 
ander, to  observe  the  rules  of  justice  towards 
their  meanest  subjects.1  To  bridle  the  fierce 
inhabitants  of  the  Scythian  plains,  he  founded 
cities,  and  established  colonies  on  the  banks  of 
the  Iaxartes  and  the  Oxus  ; and  those  destruc- 
tive campaigns,  usually  ascribed  to  his  restless 
activity  and  blind  ambition,  appeared  to  the 
discernment  of  this  extraordinary  man,  not  only 
essential  to  the  security  of  the  conquests  which 
he  had  already  made,  but  necessary  prepara- 
tions for  more  remote  and  splendid  expeditions 
which  he  still  purposed  to  undertake;  and 
which,  as  will  appear  in  the  succeeding  chapter, 
he  performed  with  singular  boldness  and  unex- 
ampled success. 

Ql  During  the  three  first  years  that 

cxu  4 *he  invincl^^e  heroism  of  Alexander 
A C 330  triumphed  in  the  East,  the  firm  vi- 
gilance of  Antipater  repressed  re- 
bellion in  Greece.  But  the  attention  of  that 
general  being  diverted,  by  a revolt  in  Thrace, 
from  the  affairs  of  the  southern  provinces,  the 
Lacedaemonians,  instigated  by  the  warlike  am- 
bition of  their  king  Agis,  ventured  to  exert  that 
hostility  against  Macedon  which  they  had  long 
felt  and  expressed.  Reinforced  by  some  com- 
munities of  the  Peloponnesus,  which  impru- 
dently listened  to  their  counsels,  the  allied  army 
amounted  to  twenty-two  thousand  men.  An- 
tipater, having  checked  the  insurrection  in 
Thrace,  hastened  into  the  Grecian  peninsula 
with  a superior  force,  and  defeated  the  con- 
federates in  a battle,  which  proved  fatal  to  king 
Agis,  and  three  thousand  Peloponnesian  troops. 
The  vanquished  were  allowed  to  send  ambas- 
sadors to  implore  the  clejnency  of  Alexander. 
From  that  generous  prince,  the  rebellious  re- 
publics received  promise  of  pardon,  on  con- 
dition that  they  punished  with  due  severity 
the  authors  of  an  unprovoked  and  ill-judged  re- 
volt.2 

From  this  period,  till  the  death  of  Alexander, 
Greece  enjoyed,  above  eight  years,  an  unusual 
degree  of  tranquillity  and  happiness.  The  sus- 
picious and  severe  temper  of  Antipater  was  re- 
strained by  the  commands  of  his  master,  who, 


Olymp. 
cxi.  3. 

A.  C.  330. 


provided  the  several  republics  sent  him  their 
appointed  contingents  of  men  to  reinforce  his 
armies,  was  unwilling  to  exact  from  them  anv 
further  mark  of  submission.  Under  the  pro*- 
tection  of  this  indulgent  sovereign,  to  the  glory 
of  whose  conquests  they  were  associated,  the 
Greeks  still  preserved  the  forms,  and  displayed 
the  image,  of  that  free  constitution  of  govern- 
ment, whose  spirit  had  animated  their  ancestors. 

While  Alexander  pursued  the 
murderers  of  Darius,  Athens  was 
crowded  with  spectators  from  the 
neighbouring  republics,  to  behold 
that  intellectual  conflict  between  iEschines  and 
Demosthenes,  whose  rivalship  in  power  and 
fame  had  long  divided  the  affections  of  their 
countrymen.  In  consequence  of  a decree  pro- 
posed by  Ctesiphon,  Demosthenes,  as  above 
mentioned,  had  been  honoured  with  a golden 
crown,  as  the  reward  of  his  political  merit. 
His  adversary  had,  even  before  the  death  of 
Philip,  denounced  the  author  of  this  decree  as 
a violator  of  the  laws  of  his  country.  1.  Be- 
cause he  had  decreed  public  honours  to  a man 
actually  entrusted  with  the  public  money,  and 
whohadnotyet  passed  his  accounts.  2.  Because, 
contrary  to  law,  he  had  advised  that  the  crown 
conferred  on  Demosthenes,  should  be  proclaim- 
ed in  the  theatre.  3.  Because  the  boasted  ser- 
vices of  Demosthenes  had  ended  in  public  dis- 
grace and  ruin  ; and  that,  instead  of  being 
rewarded  with  a crown,  he  ought  to  be  pun- 
ished as  a traitor.  Various  circumstances, 
which  it  is  now  impossible  to  explain,  prevented 
this  important  cause  from  being  heard  by  the 
Athenians,  till  the  sixth  year  of  the  reign  of 
Alexander.  The  triumph  of  the  Macedonians 
seemed  to  promise  every  advantage  to  iEschi- 
nes,  who  had  long  been  the  partisan  of  Philip, 
and  of  his  magnanimous  son ; and  who,  by  a 
stroke  aimed  at  Ctesiphon,  meant  chiefly  to 
wound  Demosthenes,  the  avowed  enemy  of 
both. 

In  the  oration  of  iEschines,  we  find  the  united 
powers  of  reason  and  argument,  combined  with 
the  most  splendid  eloquence.  Yet  the  persua- 
sive vehemence  of  Demosthenes  prevailed  in 
the  contest.  The  unexampled  exertions,3  by 
which  he  obtained  this  victory,  will  be  admired 
to  the  latest  ages  of  the  world.  To  what  an 
exalted  pitch  of  enthusiasm  must  the  orator 
have  raised  himself  and  his  audience,  when,  to 
justify  his  advising  the  fatal  battle  of  Chaero- 
nsea,  he  exclaimed,  “ No,  my  fellow  citizens, 
you  have  not  erred ; No ! I swear  it  by  the 
manes  of  those  heroes,  who  fought  in  the  same 
cause  at  Marathon  and  Plataea.”  What  sub- 
lime art  was  required  to  arrive,  by  just  degrees, 
at  this  extraordinary  sentiment,  which,  in  any 
other  light  than  the  inimitable  blaze  of  elo- 
quence with  which  it  was  surrounded,  would 
appear  altogether  excessive  and  gigantic  ! 

The  orator  not  only  justified  Ctesiphon  and 
himself,  but  procured  the  banishment  of  his  ad- 
versary, as  the  author  of  a malignant  and  ca- 
lumnious accusation.  Honourable  as  this  tri- 
umph was,  Demosthenes  derived  more  solid 
glory  from  the  generous  treatment  of  his  van- 


1 Plutarch,  Arrian,  et  Curtius,  passim. 

2 Diodorus,  1.  xvii.  p.  537.  Cur^s,  1.  vi.  c.  1. 


3 See  the  Orat.  de  Coron.  throughout. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


447 


XXXVIII.J 

quished  rival.  Before  iEschines  set  sail,  he 
carried  to  him  a purse  of  money,  which  he 
kindly  compelled  him  to  accept ; a generosity 
which  made  the  banished  man  feel  severely  the 
weight  of  his  punishment,  and  affectingly  ob- 
serve, “ How  deeply  must  I regret  the  loss  of  a 
country,  in  which  enemies  are  more  generous 
than  friends  elsewhere  !”  Aeschines  retired  to 
the  isle  of  Rhodes,  and  instituted  a school  of 
eloquence,  which  flourished  several  centuries. 
It  is  recorded,  that  having  read  to  his  scholars 
the  oration  which  occasioned  his  banishment, 
it  was  received  with  extraordinary  applause. 
But  when  this  applause  was  redoubled  on  his 
reading  the  answer  of  Demosthenes,  he  was  so 
far  from  testifying  envy,  that  he  exclaimed  to 
his  audience,  “ What  would  have  been  your 
admiration,  had  you  heard  the  orator  himself!” 
Demosthenes  survived  Alexan- 
xjyvmP*  der,  whose  magnanimity  disdained 
* _ to  punish  an  enemy  whom  he  scarce- 

* ‘ ‘ ly  regarded  as  dangerous.  But  this 

illustrious  Athenian  patriot  fell  a prey  to  the 
more  suspicious  policy  of  Antipater.  At  the 
desire  of  that  prince  he  was  banished  Athens, 
and  being  pursued  by  Macedonian  assassins  to 
the  little  island  of  Calauria,  he  ended  his  life 
by  poison.4 

It  may  be  thought,  that  the  conqueror  of  the 
Persian  empire  would  have  little  leisure,  or 
inclination,  to  attend  to  a personal  dispute  be- 
tween two  Athenian  orators  : and  that  neither 
the  impeachment  nor  the  defence  of  Demos- 
thenes could  affect  his  pride  or  his  interest.  It 
deserves  to  be  considered,  however,  that  this 
orator  was  the  inveterate,  and  long  the  success- 
ful, opponent  of  the  greatness  of  his  family  ; 
and  in  the  beginning  of  his  own  reign,  had  at- 
tempted, with  more  courage,  indeed,  than  pru- 
dence, to  overturn  the  yet  unconsolidated  pillar 
of  his  fortune.  But  whatever  indifference 
Alexander,  who  was  carefully  informed  of  the 
transactions  of  Greece,  might  testify  amidst 
the  honours  of  Demosthenes,  it  cannot  be  be- 
lieved that  he  heard  with  total  unconcern  the 


sentence  of  the  Athenian  people;  a sentence 
which  reversed  the  decision  of  fortune,  and  ar- 
raigned the  cruel  and  melancholy  triumph  of 
Philip  over  the  liberties  of  Greece.  That  he 
never  resented  the  indignity,  is  a proof  of  his 
moderation;  and  that  the  Athenians  could  ven- 
ture on  a measure  so  offensive,  is  a proof  of  the 
freedom  and  security  which  they  enjoyed  under 
the  Macedonian  government. 

Deprived  indeed  of  the  honour,  but  also  de- 
livered from  the  cares,  of  independent  sove- 
reignty, and  undisturbed  by  those  continual 
and  often  bloody  dissensions,  which  deform  the 
annals  of  their  tumultuous  liberty,  the  Greeks 
indulged  their  natural  propensity  to  the  social 
embellishments  of  life ; a propensity  by  which 
they  were  honourably  distinguished  above  all 
other  nations  of  antiquity.  Their  innumerable 
shows,  festivals,  and  dramatic  entertainments, 
were  exhibited  with  more  pomp  than  at  any 
former  period.  The  schools  of  philosophers 
and  rhetoricians  were  frequented  by  all  de- 
scriptions of  men.  Painting  and  statuary 
were  cultivated  with  equal  ardour  and  success. 
Many  improvements  were  made  in  the  sciences; 
and,  as  will  appear  more  fully  hereafter,  the 
Greeks,  and  the  Athenians  in  particular,  still 
rivalled  the  taste  and  genius,  though  not  the 
spirit  and  virtue,  of  their  ancestors.  Yet  even 
in  this  degenerate  state,  when  patriotism  and 
true  valour  were  extinct,  and  those  vanquished 
republicans  had  neither  liberties  to  love,  nor 
country  to  defend,  their  martial  honours  were 
revived  and  brightened  by  an  association  with 
the  renown  of  their  conqueror.  Under  Alex- 
ander, their  exploits,  though  directed  to  very 
different  purposes,  equalled,  perhaps  excelled, 
the  boasted  trophies  of  Marathon  and  Plataea. 
By  a singularity  peculiar  to  their  fortune,  the 
era  of  their  political  disgrace  coincides  with 
the  most  splendid  period  of  their  military  glory. 
Alexander  was  himself  a Greek ; his  king- 
dom had  been  founded  by  a Grecian  colony ; 
and  to  revenge  the  wrongs  of  his  nation,  he 
undertook  and  accomplished  the  most  extra- 
ordinary enterprises  recorded  in  the  history  of 
the  world. 


4 Plul.  in  Demosth.  et  Lucian.  Demosth.  Encom. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


4*8 


[Chap. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

Alexander's  Indian  Expedition — Route  pursued  by  the  Army — Aornos  taken — Nysa  and  Mount 
Meros — Alexander  passes  the  Indus  and  Hydaspes — Defeats  Porus — Founds  Nicaza  and 
Bucephali.a — Passes  the  Acesines  and  Hydraotes — Sangala  taken — Eastern  boundary  of  Alex- 
ander's Conquests — He  sails  down  the  Hydaspes — Takes  the  Mallian  Fortress — His  March 
through  the  Gedrosian  Desert — Voyage  of  JYearchus — Alexander  improves  the  internal  State 
if  his  Conquests — Incorporates  the  Barbarian  Levies  with  the  Greeks  and  Macedonians — 
Intermarriages  of  the  Europeans  and  Asiatics — Artifices  to  prevent  Alexander's  Return  to 
Babylon — His  Death , and  Character— Division  of  his  Conquests — Subsequent  History  of 
Egypt  and  Syria — The  Western  Division  of  Alexander's  Empire  conquered  by  the  Romans — 
State  of  Greece  after  the  Age  of  Alexander. 


T>y  just  views  of  policy,  rather  than  the  mad- 
ness  of  ambition,  Alexander  was  carried  to 
the  rugged  banks  of  the  Oxus  and  the  Iaxartes. 
The  fierce  nations  of  those  inhospitable  regions 
had,  in  ancient  times,  repeatedly 
cx|j  2 overrun  the  more  wealthy  and 
A C c\c)f1  more  civilized  provinces  of  Asia. 

Without  diffusing  through  the  Scy- 
thian plains  the  terror  of  his  name,  the  con- 
queror would  not  have  securely  enjoyed  the 
splendour  of  Susa  and  Babylon ; nor  without 
the  assistance  of  numerous  and  warlike  levies, 
raised  in  those  barbarous  countries,  could  he 
have  prudently  undertaken  his  Indian  expedi- 
tion. For  this  remote  and  dangerous  enter- 
prise, he  prepared  early  in  the  spring;  Amyn- 
tas  being  appointed  governor  of  Bactria,  and 
entrusted  with  a sufficient  strength  to  over- 
awe the  surrounding  provinces. 

With  all  the  remainder  of  his  forces,  Alex- 
ander hastened  southwards,  and  in  ten  days’ 
march  traversed  the  Paropamisus,  a link  of 
that  immense  chain  of  mountains,  reaching 
from  the  coast  of  Cilicia  to  the  sea  of  China. 
This  southern  belt,  distinguished  in  different 
portions  of  its  length  by  the  various  names  of 
Taurus,  Paropamisus,  Imaus,  and  Edinodus, 
the  Greeks  confounded 1 with  the  northern 
chain,  of  which  Scythian  Caucasus  is  a part,  and 
whose  remote  branches  extend  from  the  shores 
of  the  Euxine  to  the  eastern  extremity  of  Tar- 
tary. Such  is  the  strong  frame  which  supports 
the  ponderous  mass  of  Asia.  The  intermediate 
space,  especially  towards  the  central  country 
of  Bukaria,  is  far  more  elevated  than  any  other 
portion  of  the  Eastern  continent;  and  the  tower- 
ing heights  of  Paropamisus  had  hitherto  de- 
fended (if  we  except  the  obscure  expedition  of 
Darius)  the  feeble  majesty  of  India  against  the 
ravagers  of  the  earth.  The  difficulties  of  this 
celebrated  journey  have,  perhaps,  been  rather 
exaggerated  than  described,  by  the  historians 
of  Alexander.  Yet  our  indulgence  may  par- 
don the  fanciful2  expressions  of  antiquity,  when 
we  read  in  the  work  of  a modern  writer  of 
acknowledged  veracity,  “Those  mountains  are 
covered  with  ice;  the  cold  which  I suffered  was 
extreme,  the  country  presents  a melancholy 
image  of  death  and  horror.”3 


1 The  errors  of  Diodorus,!,  xvi.  p.  553.  and  of  Curtius, 
1 vii  c.  iii.  are  avoided  by  Arrian,  1.  v.  p.  103.  and  by 
Strabo,  l.  xv.  p.  724. 

2 Curtius,  1.  vii.  c.  iii. 

3 See  “ le  Voyage  du  Pere  Desideri.”  It  waa  performed 

in  the  year  1715.  Lettres  Edifiantes,  xv.  185. 


But  the  rugged  nature  of  the  country  was 
not  the  only  difficulty  with  which  the  Macedo- 
nians had  to  struggle.  The  northern  regions 
of  India  were  inhabited  in  ancient,  as  they  are 
still  in  modern  times,  by  men  of  superior 
strength  and  courage  ;4  and  the  vigorous  resist- 
ance made  by  the  natives  of  those  parts,  ren- 
dered it  as  difficult  for  Alexander  to  penetrate 
into  the  Indian  peninsula  by  land,  as  it  has  al- 
ways been  found  easy  by  the  maritime  powers 
of  Europe,  to  invade  and  subdue  the  unwar- 
like inhabitants  of  its  coasts. 

The  experienced  leader  seems  to  have  con- 
ducted his  army  by  the  route  of  Cahdahar,  well 
known  to  the  caravans  of  Agra  and  Ispahan. 
Having  reached  the  banks  of  the  Cophenes,  he 
divided  his  forces  ; the  greater  part  he  retained 
under  his  immediate  command  ; the  remainder 
were  detached,  under  Hephsestion  and  Perdic- 
cas,  to  clear  the  road  to  the  Indus,  and  to  make 
all  necessary  preparations  for  crossing  that  ri- 
ver. After  many  severe  conflicts,  he  subdued 
the  Aspii,  Thyr®i,  Arasaci,  and  Assaceni; 
scoured  the  banks  of  the  Choas  and  Cophenes ; 
expelled  the  Barbarians  from  their  fastnesses  ; 
and  drove  them  towards  the  northern  moun- 
tains, which  supply  the  sources  of  the  Oxus 
and  the  Indus. 

Near  the  western  margin  of  the  latter,  one 
place,  defended  by  the  Baziri,  still  defied  his 
assaults.  This  place,  called  by  the  Greeks 
Aornos,  afforded  refuge  not  only  to  the  Eaziri, 
but  to  the  most  warlike  of  their  neighbours, 
after  their  other  strong  holds  had  surrendered. 
From  its  description,  it  appears  to  have  been 
admirably  adapted  to  the  purpose  of  a long 
and  vigorous  defence.  Mount  Aornos  was  two 
hundred  furlongs  in  circuit ; eleven  in  height, 
where  lowest ; accessible  by  only  one  danger- 
ous path  cut  in  the  rock  by  art ; containing, 
near  the  top,  a plentiful  spring  of  water,  a 
thick  and  lofty  wood,  together  with  a sufficient 
quantity  of  arable  land  to  employ  the  labour 
of  a thousand  men.  An  emulation  of  glory 
prompted  Alexander  to  make  himself  master 
of  a place,  which  fable  described  as  impregna- 
ble to  the  greatest  heroes  of  antiquity.5  By 


4 Arrian,  p.  97.  et  seq. 

5 Arrian,  p.  98.  who  supplies  the  particulars  in  the  text, 
says,  that  he  knows  not  whether  it  was  the  Grecian,  Ty- 
rian, or  Egyptian  Hercules,  who  laid  siege  unsuccessfully 
to  Aornos.  He  doubts  whether  any  of  them  ever  pene- 
trated to  India ; adding,  that  the  name  of  Hercules  appears 
to  him  to  have  been  employed,  on  this  occasion,  as  on  many 
others,  “nj  ko/uttijv  tov  xoyoo,”  “as  an  ostentatious  fic- 
tion.” 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


449 


XXXIX] 

the  voluntary  assistance  and  direction  of  some 
neighbouring  tribes,  hostile  to  the  Baziri,  Ptole- 
my ascended  part  of  the  rock  unperceived ; 
Alexander,  with  his  usual  diligence,  raised  a 
mount,  erected  his  engines,  and  prepared  to  an- 
noy the  enemy.  But,  before  he  had  an  oppor- 
tunity to  employ  the  resources  of  his  genius, 
by  which  he  had  taken  places  still  stronger  than 
Aornos,  the  garrison  sent  a herald,  under  pre- 
tence of  surrendering  on  terms,  but  in  reality 
with  a view  to  spin  out  the  negotiation  during 
the  whole  day,  and  in  the  night  to  effect  their 
escape.  Alexander,  who  suspected  this  inten- 
tion, met  their  art  with  similar  address.  Pa- 
tiently waiting  till  the  Indians  descended  the 
mountain,  he  took  possession  of  the  strong 
hold  which  they  had  abandoned,  having  pre- 
viously posted  a proper  detachment  to  inter- 
cept the  fugitives,  and  punish  their  perfidy. 

The  Macedonians  proceeded  southward  from 
Aornos,  into  the  country  between  the  Cophenes 
and  the  Indus.  In  this  fertile  district,  the  army 
as  it  advanced  towards  Mount  Meros  and  the 
celebrated  Nysa,  was  met  by  a deputation  from 
the  citizens  of  that  place,  which  (could  we  be- 
lieve historic  flattery)  had  been  founded  in  the 
heroic,  or  rather  in  the  fabulous  ages,  by  a 
Grecian  colony  established  by  Bacchus  at  the 
eastern  extremity  of  his  conquests.  These 
wandering  Greeks,  might  we  indulge  for  a mo- 
ment the  supposition  that  the  inhabitants  of 
Nysa  were  really  entitled  to  that  name,  appear 
in  this  Indian  soil  to  have  degenerated  from  the 
courage,  while  they  preserved  the  policy,  the 
eloquence,  and  the  artifices,  of  their  European 
brethren.  Being  immediately  conducted  to 
Alexander,  who  had  just  sat  down  in  his  tent, 
covered  with  sweat  and  dust,  and  still  armed 
with  his  casque  and  lance,  they  testified  great 
horror  at  his  aspect,  and  threw  themselves  pros- 
trate on  the  ground.  The  king  having  raised 
them  from  this  humiliating  posture,  and  ad- 
dressed them  with  his  usual  condescension, 
they  recovered  sufficient  boldness  to  entreat 
him  to  spare  their  country  and  their  liberties 
for  the  sake  of  Bacchus  their  founder.  In  proof 
of  this  allegation,  they  insisted  on  the  name 
Nysa,  derived  from  the  nurse6  of  Bacchus,  and 
on  the  abundance,  not  only  of  vines  and  laurel, 
but  of  ivy  which  grew  in  their  territory,  and  in 
no  other  part  of  India.  Alexander,  willing  to 
admit  a pretension,  which  might  attest  to  suc- 
ceeding ages  that  he  had  carried  his  conquests 
still  farther  than  Bacchus,7  readily  granted  their 


C The  respect  shown  bv  the  Greeks  to  their  njirsos  is 
well  known,  and  is  attested  bv  the  tragedians.  In  this  re- 
spect, the  modern  Greeks  still  imitate  their  ancestors.  The 
word  employed  to  sign  fy  a nurse,  properly  denotes  “ a se- 
cond mother.”  See  Mr.  Guy’s  Voyage  Litleraire  de  la 
Grece. 

7 Eratosthenes  the  Cyrenenn,  and  many  other  ancient 
writers,  asserted,  that  the  fictions  concernin';  Bacchus’s  ex- 
pedition to  the  East,  were  invented  bv  the  flatterers  of  Al- 
exander. But  Strabo  justly  observes  that  the  belief  of  that 
expedition  long  preceded  the  age  of  the  son  of  Philip.  To 
justify  this  observation,  he  cites  the  verses  of  Sophocles 
and  Euripides.  The  latter  of  these  poets,  in  the  prologue 
to  his  Bai.chce,  introduces  Bacchus,  saving,  that  he  hnd 
come  to  Thebes,  and  adorned  with  vines  the  temple  of 
Setnele. 

Airr-nv  Se  AvS-uv  -roe?  57-oXuj£eu9-#v$ 

Qgvytov  rf , He  g<ru>v  5*  >)XioSx.>iTOvf  nkx xxf, 

Becxrf  ij*  t*  rqv  ti  x5ov* 

3 L 


request.  Having  understood  that  Nysa  wa3 
governed  by  an  aristocracy,  he  demanded,  as 
hostages,  a hundred  of  their  principal  citizens, 
and  three  hundred  of  their  cavalry.  This  de- 
mand excited  the  smile  of  Acuphis,  who  headed 
the  embassy.  Alexander  asked  him,  “ At  what 
he  smiled?”  He  replied,  “O  king!  you  are 
welcome  to  three  hundred  of  our  horsemen, 
and  more,  should  you  think  proper.  But  can 
you  believe  it  possible  that  any  city  should  long 
continue  safe,  after  losing  a hundred  of  its  most 
virtuous  citizens?  Instead  of  one  hundred  of 
the  best,  should  you  be  contented  with  two 
hundred  of  the  worst  men  in  Nysa,  be  assured 
that,  at  your  return,  you  will  find  this  country 
in  as  flourishing  a condition  as  when  you  left 
it.”  Pleased  with  his  address,  Alexander  re- 
mitted his  demand  of  the  magistrates  ; he  was 
accompanied  by  the  cavalry,  and  by  the  son 
and  nephew  of  Acuphis,  who  were  ambitious 
to  learn  the  art  of  war  under  such  an  accom- 
plished general. 

The  transactions  which  we  have  described, 
and  a march  of  sixteen  days  from  the  Oxus  to 
the  Indus,  allowed  time  for  Hephaestion  and 
Perdiccas  to  make  the  preparations  necessary 
for  passing  the  latter  river,  most  probably  by  a 
bridge  of  boats.6  On  the  eastern  bank,  Alex- 
ander received  the  submission  of  the  neigh- 
bouring princes.  Of  these,  Taxiles,  who  was 
the  most  considerable,  brought,  besides  other 
valuable  presents,  the  assistance  of  seven  thou- 
sand Indian  horse,  and  surrendered  his  capital. 


MyiSwVy  E7rsk6wv  AgxGixv  t*  svSxt/xOvXf 
Atrtxv  re  Trxtrxv^  v\  7rxg'  xkfivgxv  xkx 
Ksitxi , /uiyxa-iv  E kkvjirt  BxgSxgoig  6’  o/uoa 
Tlkiigug  E%ouirx  xxkki7rvgy cutooj  sr oXs»j. 

“Leaving  (he  golden  fields  of  the  Lydians,  the  sun-beat 
plains  of  Phrygia  and  Persia,  the  Bactrian  fortresses,  and 
the  wintry  storms  of  the  Medes — having  overrun  Happy 
Arabia,  and  the  maritime  provinces  of  Asia,  crowned  with 
'air  turreted  cities,  inhabited  by  mingled  Greeks  and  Bar- 
barians.” Sophocles  mentions  Nysa  in  particular.  BfOTSi <r» 
xkeivviv  Nuo-o-otv.  Vide  Stiabo,  1.  xv.  p.  687.  Notwith- 
standing such  respectable  authori’ies  for  the  vulgar  tradi- 
tion, both  Strabo  and  Arrian  treat  the  expedition  of  Bac- 
chus to  India  as  a fable;  the  geographer  on  the  following 
grounds:  J.  Because  the  rela’ious  of  authors  on  this  sub- 
ject are  totally  inconsistent.  2.  Because  many  of  the  wri- 
ters who  accompanied  Alexander  are  altogether  silent  con- 
cerning this  matter.  3.  Because  the  intermediate  countries 
between  Greece  and  India,  possess  no  m<  numents  of  this 
pretended  expedition.  Strabo,  p.  688.  The  philosopher 
•ind  historian  discovers  his  sentiments  to  be  the  same  with 
Strabo’s,  bat  expresses  himself  with  more  tenderness  for 
the  popular  superstition,  concluding,  “ oux  xxgi 6>j  e£e txitt^v 

•^gv\  EH'XI  TOT  V7TEg  T3V  6ll  OV,  EX  7t  asXstiou,  (tt/X’J&iV/tlVWV 

“that  the  traditions  of  the  ancients  concerning  ihe  gods 
ought  not  to  be  too  carefully  sifted.”  Arrian,  p.  101.  An 
observation  which  might  have  meri’ed  the  attention  of 
those  who,  in  la’er  times,  have  ventured  to  explain  histo- 
rically, or  to  analvze,  the  Greciap  mythoh  gy 
8 Arrian,  p.  100  and  103,  len'es  it  uncertain  in  what 
manner  the  bridge  was  constructed.  Neither  that  accurate 
writer,  nor  the  o'her  careless  desr.ribers  of  the  exploits  of 
Alexander,  asceitain  the  pass  of  the  Indus,  at  which  the 
Macedonians  crossed  that  river.  Major  Rennel,  bite  sur- 
vevor-g  ne’al  of  Bengal,  has  the  following  observations  in 
his  excellent  Memoir  on  the  Map  of  Indostan  : “I  take*  it 
for  granted,  that  Alexander  crossed  the  Indus  at  the  place 
where  the  city  of  Attock  now  stands:  as  it  appenrs  to  have 
been  in  all  ages,  the  pass  on  the  Indus  lending  from  the 
countries  of  Cabul  and  Candaliar  into  India  . . . Attock 
must  then  siand  on  the  si'e  of  the  Toxiln  of  Alexander. 
From  thence,  as  h;s  intention  seems  to  have  been  to  pene- 
trate bv  the  shortest  way  to  the  Ganges,  he  would  proceed 
by  the  ordinary  road  to  that  part  of  the  bank  of  the  H*  daspes 
for  Behnt)  where  the  fortress  of  Rotas  now  stands;  and 
here  he  put  in  execution  his  stratagem  for  crossing  the  ri- 
ver, whilst  the  opposite  shore  was  possessed  by  Porus.”  Of 
which  more  in  the  text. 


450 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


Taxila,  the  most  wealthy  and  populous  city  be- 
tween the  Indus  and  Hydaspes.  But  the  king, 
who  never  allowed  himself  to  be  outdone  in 
generosity,  restored  and  augmented  the  domi- 
nions of  Taxiles. 

The  army  crossed  the  Indus  about  the  time 
of  the  summer  solstice,  at  which  season  the  In- 
dian rivers  are  swelled  by  heavy  rains,  as  well 
as  by  the  melted  snow,  which  descends  in  tor- 
rents from  Paropamisus.  Trusting  to  this  cir- 
cumstance, Porus,  a powerful  and  warlike 
prince,  had  encamped  on  the  Shantrou,  or  Hy- 
daspes, with  thirty  thousand  foot,  four  thousand 
horse,  three  hundred  armed  chariots,  and  two 
hundred  elephants.  At  an  inconsiderable  dis- 
tance from  the  main  body,  his  son  commanded 
a detachment,  consisting  of  the  same  kind  of 
forces,  which  were  all  well  accoutred,  and  ex- 
cellently disciplined.  Alexander  perceived  the 
difficulty  of  passing  the  Hydaspes  in  the  face 
of  this  formidable  host ; a difficulty  which  must 
be  greatly  increased  by  the  elephants,  whose 
noise,  and  smell,  and  aspect,  were  alike  terri- 
ble to  cavalry.  He  therefore  collected  provi- 
sions on  the  opposite  bank,  and  industriously 
gave  out  that  he  purposed  to  delay  passing  the 
river  till  a more  favourable  season.  This  arti- 
fice deluded  not  the  Indians  ; and  Porus  kept 
his  post.  The  king  next  had  recourse  to  a dif- 
ferent stratagem.  Having  posted  his  cavalry 
in  separate  detachments  along  the  river,  he 
commanded  them  to  raise  in  the  night  loud 
shouts  of  war,  and  to  fill  the  bank  with  agita- 
tion and  tumult,  as  if  they  had  determined  at 
all  hazards  to  effect  their  passage.  The  noise 
roused  the  enemy,  and  Porus  conducted  his 
elephants  wherever  the  danger  threatened. 
This  scene  was  repeated  several  successive 
nights ; during  which  the  Barbarians  were  fa- 
tigued and  harassed  by  perpetual  alarms.  Po- 
rus discovering,  as  he  fondly  believed,  that  no- 
thing was  intended  by  this  vain  noise,  but 
merely  to  disturb  his  repose,  at  length  desisted 
from  following  the  motions  of  the  Macedonian 
cavalry,  and  remained  quiet  in  his  encamp- 
ment, having  stationed  proper  guards  on  the 
bank.1 

The  false  security  of  Porus  enabled  Alexan- 
der to  effect  his  long  meditated  purpose.  At  the 
distance  of  about  eighteen  miles  from  his  camp, 
and  at  the  principal  winding  of  the  Hydaspes, 
there  stood  a lofly  rock,  thickly  covered  with 
trees ; and  near  to  this  rock,  an  island,  likewise 
overrun  with  wood,  and  uninhabited.  Such 
objects  were  favourable  for  concealment : they 
immediately  suggested  to  Alexander  the  design 
of  passing  the  river  with  a strong  detachment, 
which  he  resolved  to-eommand  in  person,  as  he 
seldom  did  by  others  what  he  could  himself 
perform  ; and,  amidst  the  variety  of  operations, 
always  claimed  for  his  own  the  task  of  impor- 
tance or  danger.  The  Macedonian  *phalanx, 
the  new  levies  from  Paropamisus,  together  with 
the  Indian  auxiliaries,  and  one  division  of  the 
cavalry,  remained  under  the  command  of  Cra- 
terus.  They  had  orders  to  amuse  the  enemy 
by  making  fires  in  the  night,  and  by  preparing 
openly  during  day-time  to  cross  the  Hydaspes. 


[Chaf. 

While  these  operations  were  carrying  on  by 
Craterus,  Alexander,  having  collected  hides 
and  boats,  marched  up  the  country  with  a 
choice  body  of  light  infantry,  the  archers  and 
Agrians,  the  Bactrian,  Scythian,  and  Parthian2 3 
cavalry,  together  with  a due  proportion  of 
heavy-armed  troops ; the  whole  a well-assorted 
brigade,  adapted  to  every  mode  of  war  re- 
quired by  the  nature  of  the  ground,  the  arms 
or  disposition  of  the  enemy.  Having  receded 
from  the  bank  to  a distance  sufficiently  remote 
for  eluding  the  observation  of  Porus,  he  ad- 
vanced towards  the  rock  and  island  ; and  in 
this  secure  post  prepared  to  embark,  after  tak- 
ing such  precautions  against  the  vicissitudes  of 
war  and  fortune,  as  could  be  suggested  only  by 
the  most  profound  military  genius.  The  or- 
ders given  to  Craterus  were  precise  : should 
the  Indians  perceive,  and  endeavour  to  inter- 
rupt the  passage  to  the  rock  and  island,  he  was 
in  that  case  to  hasten  over  wTith  his  cavalry 
otherwise  not  to  stir  from  his  post,  until  he  ob- 
served Porus  advancing  against  Alexander,  or 
flying  from  the  field.  At  an  equal  distance  be- 
tween the  bank,  where  Alexander  meant  to 
pass,  and  the  camp  where  Craterus  lay,  Atta- 
lus  and  Meleager  were  posted  with  a powerful 
body  of  mercenaries,  chiefly  consisting  of  In- 
dian mountaineers,  who  had  been  defeated  by 
the  Macedonians,  and  taken  into  the  pay  of  the 
conqueror.  To  provide  for  any  unforeseen  ac- 
cident, sentinels  were  placed  along  the  bank, 
at  convenient  distances,  to  observe  and  repeat 
signals. 

Fortune  favoured  these  judicious  dispositions. 
A violent  tempest  concealed  from  the  enemy’s 
out-guards  the  tumult  of  preparation  ; the  clash 
of  armour  and  the  voice  of  command  being 
overpowered  by  the  complicated  crash  of  rain 
and  thunder.  When  the  storm  somewhat  abat- 
ed, the  horse  and  infantry,  in  such  proportions 
as  both  the  boats  and  hides  could  convey,  passed 
over,  unperceived,  into  the  island.  Alexander 
led  the  line,  accompanied  in  his  vessel  of  thirty 
oars  by  Seleucus,  Ptolemy,  Perdiccas,  and  Ly 
simachus  ; names  destined  to  fill  the  ancient 
world,  when  their  renown  was  no  longer  re- 
pressed by  the  irresistible  diffusion  of  their 
master’s  glory. 

The  king  first  reached  the  opposite  bank,  in 
sight  of  the  enemy’s  out-guards,  who  hastened, 
in  trepidation,  to  convey  the  unwelcome  intelli- 
gence to  Porus.  The  Macedonians  mean  while 
formed  in  order  of  battle ; but  before  meeting 
their  enemies,  they  had  to  struggle  with  an 
unforeseen  difficulty.  The  coast  on  which  they 
landed  was  the  shore  of  another  island,  disjoin- 
ed from  the  continent  by  a river  commonly 
fordable,  but  actually  so  much  swelled  by  the 
rains  of  the  preceding  night,  that  the  water 
reached  the  breasts  of  the  men,  and  the  necks 
of  the  horses.  Having  passed  this  dangerous 
stream  with  his  cavalry  and  targeteers,  Alex- 
ander advanced  with  all  possible  expedition, 
considering,  that  should  Porus  offer  battle,  these 
forces  would  resist  till  joined  by  the  heavy  in- 
fantry ; but  should  the  Indians  be  struck  with 


1 Arrian,  1.  v.  p.  >07  et  seq. 


2 Arrian  calls  them  the  Dahae ; they  were  is-sroreJ-OTai 

archers  on  horseback.”  Arrian,  1.  v.  p 109. 


451 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


XXXIX.] 

panic  at  his  unexpected  passage  of  the  Hydas- 
pes,  the  light-armed  troops  would  thus  arrive 
in  time  to  attack  and  pursue  them  with  ad- 
vantage. 

Upon  the  first  alarm  given  by  his  out-guards, 
Porus  detached  his  son  to  oppose  the  landing 
of  the  enemy  with  two  thousand  horse,  and 
one  hundred  and  twenty  armed  chariots.  These 
forces,  arriving  too  late  to  defend  the  bank, 
were  speedily  broken  and  put  to  flight  by 
the  equestrian  archers ; their  leader  and  four 
hundred  horsemen  were  slain  ; most  of  the 
chariots  were  taken  ; the  slime  of  the  river, 
which  rendered  them  unserviceable  in  the  ac- 
tion, likewise  interrupting  their  flight. 

The  sad  news  of  this  discomfiture  deeply 
afflicted  Porus ; but  his  immediate  danger  al- 
lowed not  time  for  reflection.  Craterus  visibly 
prepared  to  pass  the  river,  and  to  attack  him  in 
front ; his  flanks  were  threatened  with  the 
shock  of  the  Macedonian  horse,  elated  by  recent 
victory.  In  this  emergency  the  Indian  appears 
to  have  acted  with  equal  prudence  and  firmness. 
Unable  to  oppose  this  complicated  assault,  he 
left  part  of  the  elephants  under  a small  guard, 
to  frighten,  rather  than  resist,  Craterus’s  cavalry; 
while,  at  the  head  of  his  whole  army,  he 
marched  in  person  to  meet  the  piore  formidable 
division  of  the  enemy,  commanded  by  their 
king.  His  horse  amounted  to  four,  and  his 
foot  to  thirty,  thousand  ; but  the  part  of  his 
strength  in  which  he  seemed  most  to  confide, 
consisted  of  three  hundred  armed  chariots,  and 
two  hundred  elephants.  With  these  forces, 
Porus  advanced,  until  he  found  a plain  suffi- 
ciently dry  and  firm  for  his  chariots  to  wheel. 
He  then  arranged  his  elephants  at  intervals  of 
a hundred  feet ; in  these  intervals  he  placed  his 
infantry,  a little  behind  the  line.  By  this  order 
of  battle,  he  expected  to  intimidate  the  enemy, 
since  their  horse,  he  thought,  would  be  deterred 
from  advancing  at  sight  of  the  elephants ; and 
their  infantry,  he  imagined,  would  not  venture 
to  attack  the  Indians  in  front,  while  they  must 
be  themselves  exposed  to  be  attacked  in  flank, 
and  trampled  under  foot  by  those  terrible  ani- 
mals. At  either  extremity  of  the  line,  the  ele- 
phants bore  huge  wooden  towers,  filled  with 
armed  men.  The  cavalry  formed  the  wings, 
covered  in  front  with  the  armed  chariots. 

Alexander  by  this  time  appeared  at  the  head 
of  the  royal  cohort  and  equestrian  archers. 
Perceiving  that  the  enemy  had  already  prepar- 
ed for  battle,  he  commanded  a halt,  until  the 
heavy-armed  troops  should  join.  This  being 
effected,  he  allowed  them  time  to  rest  and  re- 
cover strength,  carefully  encircling  them  with 
the  cavalry  ; and  mean  while  examined,  with 
his  usual  diligence,  the  disposition  of  the  In- 
dians. Upon  observing  their  order  of  battle,  he 
immediately  determined,  not  to  attack  them  in 
front,  in  order  to  avoid  encountering  the  diffi- 
culties which  Porus  had  artfully  thrown  in 
his  way  ; and  at  once  resolved  on  an  operation, 
which,  with  such  troops  as  those  whom  he 
commanded,  could  scarcely  fail  to  prove  deci- 
sive. By  intricate  and  skilful  manoeuvres,  al- 
together unintelligible  to  the  Indians,  he  moved 
imperceptibly  towards  their  left  wing  with  the 
flower  of  his  cavalry.  The  remainder,  con- 1 


ducted  by  Csenus,  stretched  towards  the  right, 
having  orders  to  wheel  at  a given  distance,  that 
they  might  attack  the  Indians  in  rear,  should 
they  wait  to  receive  the  shock  of  Alexander’s 
squadrons.  A thousand  equestrian  archers  di- 
rected their  rapid  course  towards  the  same 
wing ; while  the  Macedonian  foot  remained 
firm  in  their  posts,  waiting  the  event  of  this 
complicated  assault,  which  appears  to  have 
been  conducted  with  the  most  precise  observ- 
ance of  time  and  distance. 

The  Indian  horse,  harassed  by  the  equestrian 
archers,  and  exposed  to  the  danger  of  being 
surrounded,  were  obliged  to  form  into  two  di- 
visions, of  which  one  prepared  to  resist  Alex- 
ander, and  the  other  faced  about  to  meet 
Csenus.  But  this  evolution  so  much  disordered 
their  ranks  and  dejected  their  courage,  that  they 
were  totally  unable  to  stand  the  shock  of  the 
Macedonian  cavalry,  which  surpassed  them  as 
much  in  strength,  as  it  excelled  them  in  disci- 
pline. The  fugitives  took  refuge,  as  behind  a 
line  of  friendly  towers,  in  the  intervals  that  had 
been  left  between  the  elephants.  These  fierce 
animals  were  then  conducted  against  the  ene- 
my’s horse  ; which  movement  was  no  sooner 
observed  by  the  infantry,  than  they  seasonably 
advanced,  and  galled  the  assailants  with  darts 
and  arrows.  Wherever  the  elephants  turned 
the  Macedonians  opened  their  ranks,  finding  it 
dangerous  to  resist  them  with  a close  and  deep 
phalanx.  Mean  while,  the  Indian  cavalry  ral- 
lied, and  were  repelled  with  greater  loss  than 
before.  They  again  sought  the  same  friendly 
retreat ; but  their  flight  was  now  intercepted, 
and  themselves  almost  entirely  surrounded,  by 
the  Macedonian  horse  ; at  the  same  time  that 
the  elephants,  having  lost  their  riders,  enraged  at 
being  pent  up  within  a narrow  space,  and  fu- 
rious, through  their  wounds,  proved  more  for- 
midable to  friends  than  foes,  because  the  Ma- 
cedonians, having  the  advantage  of  an  open 
ground,  could  every  where  give  vent  to  their 
fury.3 

The  battle  was  decided  before  the  division, 
under  Craterus,  passed  the  river.  But  the 
arrival  of  these  fresh  troops  rendered  the  pur- 
suit peculiarly  destructive.  The  unfortunate 
Porus  lost  both  his  sons,  all  his  captains, 
twenty  thousand  foot,  and  three  thousand  horse. 
The  elephants,  spent  with  fatigue,  were  slain 
or  taken  ; even  the  armed  chariots  were  hacked 
in  pieces,  having  proved  less  formidable  in 
reality  than  appearance,  could  we  believe  that 
little  more  than  three  hundred  men  perished 
on  the  side  of  Alexander.  An  obvious  incon- 
sistency too  often  appears  in  the  historians  of 
that  conqueror.1  With  a view  to  enhance  his 
merit,  they  describe  and  exaggerate  the  valour 
and  resistance  of  his  enemies ; but,  in  comput- 
ing the  numbers  of  the  slain,  they  become 
averse  to  allow  this  valour  and  resistance  to 
have  produced  any  adequate  effects. 

The  Indian  king  having  behaved  with  great 

3 Arrian,  p.  112. 

4 See  Arrian,  p.  113.  The  observation  applies  not,  how- 
ever, to  thnt  historian,  but  rather  to  Ptolemy  and  Aristobu- 
lus,  from  whom  he  derived  his  materials;  nor  could  it  be 
expected  thnt  those  generals  should  preserve  perfect  im- 
p rtiality  in  relating  the  exploits  4of  a master  whom  they 
admired. 


452 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


gallantry  in  the  engagement,  was  the  last  to 
leave  the  field.  His  flight  being  retarded  by  his 
wounds,  he  was  overtaken  by  Taxiles,  whom 
Alexander  entrusted  with  the  care  of  seizing 
him  alive.  But  Porus,  perceiving  the  approach 
of  a man,  who  was  his  ancient  and  inveterate 
enemy,  turned  his  elephant,  and  prepared  to 
renew  the  combat.  Alexander  then  despatched 
to  him  Meroe,  an  Indian  of  distinction,  who,  he 
understood,  had  formerly  lived  with  Porus  in 
habits  of  friendship.  By  the  entreaties  of 
Meroe,  the  high-minded  prince,  spent  with 
thirst  and  fatigue,  was  finally  persuaded  to  sur- 
render ; and  being  refreshed  with  drink  and 
repose  was  conducted  to  the  presence  of  the 
conqueror.  Alexander  admired  his  stature  (for 
he  was  above  seven  feet  high)  and  the  majesty 
of  his  person  ; but  he  admired  still  more  his 
eourage  and  magnanimity.  Having  asked  in 
what  he  could  oblige  him  ? Porus  answered, 
“ By  acting  like  a king.”  “ That,”  said  Alex- 
ander with  a smile,  “ I should  do  for  my  own 
sake,  but  what  can  I do  for  yours?”  Porus 
replied,  “ All  my  wishes  are  contained  in  that 
one  request.”1  None  ever  admired  virtue  more 
than  Alexander.  Struck  with  the  firmness  of 
Porus,  he  declared  him  reinstated  on  his  throne; 
acknowledged  him  for  his  ally  and  his  friend  ; 
and  having  soon  afterwards  received  the  sub- 
mission of  the  Glausa?,  who  possessed  thirty- 
seven  cities  on  his  eastern  frontier,  the  least  of 
which  contained  five  thousand,  and  many  of 
the  greatest  above  ten  thousand  inhabitants,  he 
added  this  populous  province  to  the  dominions 
of  his  new  confederate.  Immediately  after  the 
battle,  he  interred  the  slain,  performed  the  ac- 
customed sacrifices,  and  exhibited  gymnastic 
and  equestrian  games  on  the  banks  of  the  Hy- 
daspes.  Before  leaving  that  river,  he  founded 
two  cities,  Nicaea  and  Bucephalia ; the  former 
was  so  called,  to  commemorate  the  victory 
gained  near  the  place  where  it  stood  ; the  latter, 
situate  on  the  opposite  bank,  was  named  in 
honour  of  his  horse  Bucephalus,2  who  died 
there,  worn  out  by  age  and  fatigue.  A large 
division  of  the  army  remained  under  the  com- 
mand of  Craterus,  to  build  and  fortify  these 
new  cities. 

In  promoting  the  success  of  Alexander,  the 
fame  of  his  generosity  conspired  with  the  power 
of  his  arms.  Without  encountering  any  memo- 
rable resistance,  he  reduced  the  dominions  of 
another  prince  named  Porus,  and  the  valuable 
country  between  the  Acesines  and  the  Hydra- 
otes.  In  effecting  this  conquest,  the  obstacles 
of  nature  were  the  principal,  or  rather  the  only, 


1 The  modern  histories  of  Alexander  universally  mis- 

represent this  conference.  All  of  them,  as  far  as  I know, 
make  Porus  say,  lllhat  he  desires  to  be  treated  likn  a kin»:” 
an  explanation  which  cannot  he  reconciled  with  Alexander’s 
reply,  Towto  y. tv  io-tx,  <r 01  Tljjft  sy oy  s«ix»‘  <ru  St  <rxv tou 
ivtxx  o,  t»  <ro i xj-iov?  I will  act  towards  you,  O 

Porus!  as  becomes  a kin",  on  my  own  account;  but  what 
do  you  desire  that  I should  do  on  yours  V' 

2 This  generous  animal,  who  had  so  long  shared  the 
toils  and  dangers  of  his  master,  had  formerly  received  signa  l 
marks  of  royal  regard.  Having  disappeared  in  the  country 
of  the  Uxii,  Alexander  issued  a proclamation,  commanding 
his  horse  to  be  restored,  otherwise  he  wou'd  ravage  the 
whole  country  with  fire  and  sword.  This  command  was 
immediately  obeyed.  “So  dear,”  savg  Arrian,  “ was  Bu- 
cephalus to  Alexander,  and  so  terrible  was  Alexander  to 
the  Barbarians.”  Arrian,  p.  114. 


[Chap. 

enemies,  with  whom  he  had  to  contend.  The 
river  Acesines,  fifteen  furlongs  broad,  is  deep 
and  rapid ; many  parts  of  its  channel  are  filled 
with  large  and  sharp  rocks,  which,  opposing  the 
rapidity  of  the  stream,  occasion  loud  and  foam- 
ing billows,  mixed  with  boiling  eddies  and 
whirlpools,  equally  formidable,  and  still  more 
dangerous.  Of  the  Macedonians,  who  attempt- 
ed to  pass  in  boats,  many  drove  against  the 
rocks,  and  perished ; but  such  as  employed 
hides,  reached  the  opposite  shore  in  safety. 
The  Hydraotes  is  of  the  same  breadth  with  the 
Acesines,  but  flows  with  a gentle  current.  f On 
its  eastern  bank,  Alexander  learned  that  the 
Cathaei,  Malli,  and  other  independent  Indian 
tribes,  prepared  to  resist  his  progress.  They  had 
encamped  on  the  side  of  the  hill,  near  the  city 
Sangala,  two  days  march  from  the  Hydraotes ; 
and,  instead  of  a breast-work,  had  fortified 
themselves  with  a triple  row  of  carriages. 
Alexander  advanced  with  his  cavalry  ; the  In- 
dians stirred  not  from  their  post,  but,  mounting 
their  carnages,  poured  forth  a shower  of  missile 
weapons.  Alexander  perceiving  the  cavalry 
unfit  for  such  an  attack,  immediately  dismount- 
ed, and  conducted  a battalion  of  foot  against 
the  enemy.  The  lines  were  attacked,  where 
weakest ; some  passages  were  opened ; the 
Macedonians  rushed  in  ; and  the  Indians,  being 
successively  driven  from  theirtriple  barrier,  fled 
in  precipitation  to  Sangala. 

The  walls  of  that  place  were  too  extensive  to 
be  completely  invested.  On  one  side,  the  town 
was  skirted  by  a lake,  long  and  broad,  but  not 
deep.  Alexander  suspecting  that  the  Indians, 
intimidated  by  their  former  defeat,  would  at- 
tempt to  escape  in  the  night,  caused  the  lake  to 
be  surrounded  with  his  cavalry.  This  precau- 
tion was  attended  with  success.  The  foremost 
of  the  Indians  were  cut  to  pieces  by  the  ad- 
vanced guards  of  the  Macedonian  horse;  the 
rest  escaped  with  difficulty  to  Sangala.  Alex- 
ander then  invested  the  greatest  part  of  the 
town  with  a rampart  and  a ditch,  and  prepared 
to  advance  his  engines  to  batter  the  walls,  when 
he  was  informed  by  some  deserters,  that  the 
enemy  still  resolved,  that  very  night,  to  steal,  it 
possible,  through  the  lake  ; if  not,  to  force  their 
way  with  their  whole  strength.  Upon  this  in- 
telligence Alexander  posted  Ptolemy,  the  son  of 
Lagus,with  three  thousand  targeteers,  one  troop 
of  archers,  and  all  the  Agrians,  upon  the  spot 
where  he  sagaciously  conjectured  that  the  be- 
sieged would  attempt  to  force  their  passage.  At 
the  first  sound  of  the  trumpet,  the  other  com- 
manders were  to  advance  to  the  assistance  of 
Ptolemy.  Alexander  declared  his  intention  to 
share  the  common  danger.  By  this  judicious 
disposition,  the  enemy  were  successfully  repel- 
led, after  leaving  five  hundred  men  on  the  place. 
Mean  while  Porus,  Alexander’s  principal  ally  in 
those  parts,  arrived  in  the  camp  with  five  thou- 
sand Indians,  and  a considerable  number  of  ele- 
phants. Encouraged  by  this  reinforcement,  the 
Macedonians  prepared  to  terminate  the  siege. 
The  engines  were  got  ready;  the  wall,  built  of 
brick,  was  undermined ; the  scaling-ladders 
were  fixed;  several  breaches  were  made;  and 
the  town  was  taken  by  assault.  Seventeen 
thousand  Indians  are  said  to  have  perished  in 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


453 


XXXIX.] 

the  sack  of  Sangala;  above  seventy  thousand 
were  taken  prisoners;  Sangala  was  razed;  its 
confederates  submitted  or  fled.  Above  a hun- 
dred Macedonians  fell  in  the  siege  or  assault ; 
twelve  hundred  were  wounded. 

The  persevering  intrepidity  of  Alexander  thus 
rendered  him  master  of  the  valuable  country, 
now  called  the  Punjab,  watered  by  the  five  great 
streams  whose  confluence  forms  the  Indus.3 
The  banks  of  the  Hyphasis,  the  most  eastern  of 
these  rivers,  which  he  actually  intended  to  cross, 
allured  by  the  flattering  description  of  the  ad- 
joining territory,  were  adorned  by  twelve  Mace- 
donian altars,  equal  in  height,  and  exceeding  in 
bulk,  the  greatest  towers  in  that  country.  These 
monuments,  erected  midway  between  Delhi  and 
Lahor,4  marked  the  extremity  of  Alexander’s 
empire;  an  empire  thus  limited,  not  by  the  dif- 
ficulties of  the  country,  or  the  opposition  of 
enemies,  but  by  the  immoveable  and  unanimous 
resolution  of  his  European  troops. 

3 The  annals  of  the  Gemoos  distinguish  Alexander  by 
the  epithets  of  Mhaahah,  Dukkoyt,  and  Kooneah,  “ the 
•great  robber  and  assassin but  most  of  the  Oriental  tradi- 
tions are  highly  honourable  to  that  prince,  and  extol  his 
humanity  not  less  than  his  prowess.  The  high  idea  enter- 
tained of  him  by  the  Indians,  appears  from  their  ascribing 
to  his  taste  and  magnificence,  the  most  remarkable  monu- 
ments scattered  over  their  immense  country.  See  I’Examen 
Critiaue,  p.  143,  et  seq.  M.  Anquetil’s  Zend-Avesta,  t.  i p. 
392.  and  Mr.  Howell’s  Religion  of  the  Gentoos,  P.  ii.  p.  5. 

4 Probably  near  the  place  where  the  great  western  road 
passes  between  these  cities.  See  D’Anville  Geogr.  Anci- 
enne,  and  Gibbon’s  Hist.  vol.  i.  c.  ii.  Major  Rennel,  how- 
ever, in  his  excellent  Memoir  on  the  new  Map  of  Indostan, 
assigns  reasons  for  believing  that  Alexander  was  not  so  high 
up  the  river.  “After  crossing,”  says  he,  “ the  Acesines,  or 
Jenaub,  and  the  Hydraotes  or  Ravee,  which  latter  he  may 
be  supposed  to  cross  at  the  place  where  Lahor  now 
stands,  he  appears  to  have  been  drawn  out  of  the  direct 
route  towards  the  Ganges,  to  attack  the  city  of  Sangala, 
most  probably  lying  between  Lahor  and  Moultan.  From 
Sangala  he  proceeded  to  the  Hyphasis,  or  Setlege,  most 
pj'obably  between  Abjodin  and  Debalpour,  by  the  circum- 
stance of, the  deserts  lying  between  him  and  the  Ganges ; for 
the  country  between  theBeath  and  the  Ganges  is  fertile  and 
well  inhabited,  but  that  between  the  lower  parts  of  the  Set- 
lege and  the  Ganges,  has  really  a desert  in  it,  as  Timur  ex- 
perienced in  his  march  from  Adjodin  to  Balnir.  The  dis- 
tance Between  Alexander’s  position  on  the  Hyphasis  and 
the  Jumma,  as  given  by  Pliny,  accords  with  this  opinion. 
He  gives  it  a3  three  hundred  and  thirty  six  Roman  miles, 
which,  by  a proper  proportional  scale,  formed  from  his  dis- 
tances in  known  places,  reaches  from  the  banks  of  the  Jum- 
ma  to  a point  a little  below  the  conflux  of  the  Beath  and  Set- 
lege. But  had  Alexander  been  as  high  up  the  river  as  the 
place  where  the  great  western  road  crosses  from  Lahor  to 
Delhi,  he  would  have  been  only  two  hundred  and  fifty  such 
miles  from  the  Jumma.  This  opinion  is  strengthened  by  the 
account  of  what  happened  immediately  after ; I mean  his 
recrossing  the  Hydraotes,  and  then  encamping  on  the  bank 
of  the  Acesines,  in  a low  situation,  and  where  the  whole 
eountry  was  flooded  on  the  coming  on  of  the  periodical 
rains;  which  circumstances  obliged  him  to  move  his  camp 
higher  up  the  river,  in  o a more  elevated  country.  This 
agrees  perfectly  with  the  description  of  the  country.  The 
lower  parts  of  the  courses  of  the  Jenaub  and  Ravee  are 
really  through  a low  country;  and  these  are  also  the  parts 
nearest  to  Adjodin  and  Debalpour,  between  which  places,  I 
suppose,  Alexander’s  altars  were  erected.”  It  is  rather  un- 
fortunate for  this  ingenious  conjecture,  that  the  desert  on 
the  eastern  bank  of  the  Hyphasis,  between  Alexander  and 
the  Ganges,  is  to  be  found  onlv  in  the  inaccurate  compila- 
tion of  Diodorus,  1.  xvii.  p.  612.  (whose  narrative  of  Alex- 
ander’s expedition  is  as  much  inferior  to  Arrian’s,  a*  his 
imperfect  and  inconsistent  account  of  the  expedition  of  the 
younger  Cyrus,  and  the  retreat  of  the  ten  thousand,  is  in- 
ferior to  the  admired  Anabasis  of  Xenophon,)  and  in  the 
romantic  descr'ption  of  Curtius,  1.  ix.  c.  ii.  The  existence 
of  such  a desert,  at  the  ex'remity  of  Alexander’s  conquests, 
is  contradicted  by  the  circumstantial  and  satisfactory  narra 
live  of  Arrian,  1.  v.  p.  119.  who  says,  “ that  the  country  be- 
yond the  Hyphasis  was  rich  and  'eriile,  the  inhabitants  in- 
dustrious and  brave;  governed  by  a modern  aristocracy; 
flourishing  in  peace  and  plenty;  possessing  a great  number 

of  elephants,  and  those  of  superior  strength  and  stature.”, 


Invincible  by  his  enemies,  Alex- 
cxni  3*  an(^er  submitted  to  his  friends,  at 
A r whose  desire  he  set  bounds  to  his 

trophies  in  the  East.  But  his  rest- 
less curiosity  prepared  new  toils  and  dangers  for 
the  army  and  himself.  Having  returned  to  the 
cities  Nicaea  and  Bucephalia,  he  divided  his 
forces,  for  the  sake  of  exploring  more  carefully 
the  unknown  regions  of  India.  Two  divisions, 
respectively  commanded  by  Craterus  and  He- 
phtEstion  (for  Caenus  was  now  dead,)  had  orders 
to  march  southward  along  the  opposite  banks 
of  the  Hydaspes.  Philip,  to  whom  he  had  com- 
mitted the  government  of  the  provinces  adja- 
cent to  Bactria,  was  recalled  with  the  troops 
under  his  command ; and  the  whole  Macedonian 
conquests  in  India,  including  seven  nations  and 
above  two  thousand  cities,  were  subjected  to 
the  dominion  of  Porus.  Mean  while  the  Ioni- 
ans,  Cyprians,  Phoenicians,  and  other  maritime 
nations,  who  followed  the  standard  of  Alexan- 
der, industriously  built,  or  collected,  above  two 
thousand  vessels,5  for  sailing  down  the  Hydas- 
pes till  its  junction  with  the  Indus,  and  thence 
along  that  majestic  stream  to  the  Indian  ocean. 
On  board  this  fleet  the  king  embarked  in  person 
with  the  third  division  of  his  forces.  His  na- 
vigation employed  several  months,  being  fre- 
quently retarded  by  hostilities  with  the  natives, 
particularly  the  warlike  tribe  of  the  Malli. 
These  Barbarians  were  driven  from  the  open 
country;  their  cities  were  successively  besieged 
and  taken  ; but,  at  the  storm  of  their  capital,  a 
scene  was  transacted,  which  would  have  indica- 
ted madness  in  any  other  general,  and  which 
betrayed  temerity  even  in  Alexander. 

When  their  streets  were  filled  with  the  ene- 
my, the  Malli  took  refuge  in  their  citadel. 
This  fortress  was  defended  by  a thick  wall, 
which  being  thrown  around  the  declivity  of  a 
mountain,  was  extremely  lofty  without,  but 
towards  the  inner  circumference  of  an  incon- 
siderable height.  Alexander,  provoked  by  the 


~ — . t 

5  “It  may  appear  extraordinary,”  says  Mr.  Rennel,  “that 
Alexander  should,  in  the  course  of  a few  months,  prepare 
so  vast  a fleet,  for  his  voyage  down  the  Indus;  especially  as 
it  is  said  to  be  the  work  of  his  army.  But  the  Punjab  coun- 
try, like  that  of  Bengal,  is  full  of  navigable  rivers,  which 
communicating  with  the  Indus,  form  an  uninterrupted  navi- 
gation from  Cashmere  to  Tatta,  and  no  doubt  abounded 
with  boats  and  vessels  ready  constructed  to  the  conqueror’s 
hands.  I think  it  probable  too,  that  the  vessels  in  which 
Nearchus  performed  his  coasting  voyage  to  the  Gulf  of  Per- 
sia, were  found  in  the  Indus.  Vessels  of  one  hundred  and 
eighty  tons  burden  are  sometimes  used  in  the  Ganges;  and 
those  of  one  hundred  not  unfrequentlv.”  I'  is  worthy  of 
observation,  that  this  judicious  conjecture  of  Mr.  Rennel  is 
justified  by  the  words  of  Arrian.  In  speaking  of  the  num- 
ber of  vessels,  he  says,  xoti  oo"oe  aeWee  ;rOT«,uijt,  t)  Taiv  Tot\eti 

7T\tOVTU3V  V.*T&  TOVS  JT0T5 1/UOuS,  V\  tV  TUI  T0T5  W 0 1 1)  6 feTOII/ , p. 

124.  The  vessels  employed  by  Alexander  appear,  therefore, 
to  have  been  partly  collected  on  the  Indian  rivers,  and  part- 
ly constructed  for  the  occasion.  They  were,  1.  Long  ships, 
for  the  purpose  of  war;  2.  Round  ships,  for  carrying  provi- 
sions, baggage,  &c.;  and  3.  i7T7rxyvyx  n-K oise,  vessels  for 
transporting  horses  Mr.  Rennel’s  conjecture  can  only  re- 
late to  the  ships  of  burden.  That  the  two  other  kinds  were 
built  by  the  fonians  and  islanders,  appears  from  Arrian,  p. 
124,  and  181.  The  account  of  Alexander’s  embarkation, 
given  in  Arrian’s  expedition  of  Alexander,  as  well  ns  in  his 
Indian  history,  iJ  inconsistent  with  the  relation  of  Curtius, 
1.  ix.  c.  iii.  wi  h that  of  Diodorus,  1.  xvii.  p.  363.  and  that  of 
Justin,  I.  xii.  c.  ix.  The  narra'ive  of  Arrian  is,  however, 
confirmed  by  Strabo,  I.  xv.  p.  1023.  That  accurate  geogrn- 
»her  informs  us,  that  the  fleet  was  constructed  npnr  ihe 
cities  which  Alexander  had  built  on  each  side  the  Hydas- 
pes ; and  that  the  timber,  chiefly  pine,  fir,  and  cedar,  was 
brought  from  a wood  near  to  Mount  Emodus. 


454 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


obstinacy  of  the  Indians,  commanded  the  scal- 
ing-ladders to  be  applied  with  all  possible  expe- 
dition. But  this  service  being  performed  more 
tardily  than  usual,  the  king,  in  his  anger, 
snatched  a ladder  from  one  who  carried  it,  and 
having  fastened  it  to  the  wall,  mounted  with 
rapidity  in  defiance  of  the  enemy’s  weapons. 
The  Macedonians,  alarmed  by  the  danger  of 
their  general,  followed  in  such  numbers,  that 
the  ladder  broke  as  Alexander  reached  the  sum- 
mit; the  same  accident  happened  to  other  lad- 
ders which  were  hastily  applied,  and  injudici- 
ously crowded.  For  some  moments,  the  king 
thus  remained  alone  on  the  wall,  conspicuous 
by  the  brightness  of  his  arms,  and  the  extrava- 
gance1 of  his  valour,  exposed  to  thick  vollies  of 
hostile  darts  from  the  adjacent  towers.  His 
resolution  was  more  than  daring.  At  one  bound 
he  sprang  into  the  place,  and  posting  himself 
at  the  wall,  slew  the  chief  of  the  Malli,  and 
three  others,  who  ventured  to  assault  him 
Mean  while  Abreas,  Leonnatus,  and  Peucestas, 
the  only  Macedonians  who  had  got  safe  to  the 
top  of  the  wall,  imitated  the  example  of  Alex- 
ander. Abreas  was  wounded  and  fell;  his  com- 
panions, regardless  of  their  own  safety,  defend- 
ed the  king,  whose  breast  had  been  pierced 
with  an  arrow.  They  were  soon  covered  with 
wounds,  and  Alexander  seemed  ready  to  expire. 
By  this  time,  the  Macedonians  had  burst  through 
the  gates  of  the  place.  Their  first  concern  was 
to  carry  olf  the  king;  the  second  to  revenge  his 
death,  for  they  believed  the  wound  to  be  mortal, 
as  breath  issued  forth  with  his  blood.  Some 
report,  that  the  weapon  was  extracted  by  Crito- 
demus  of  Cos ; others,  that  no  surgeon  being 
near,  Perdiccas,  of  the  life-guards,  opened  the 
wound  with  his  sword,  by  his  master’s  com- 
mand. The  great  effusion  of  blood  threatened 
his  immediate  dissolution ; but  a seasonable 
swooning  retarded  the  circulation  of  the  fluids, 
stopped  the  discharge  of  blood,  and  saved  the 
life  of  Alexander.  The  affectionate  admiration 
in  which  he  was  held  by  his  troops,  appeared 
in  their  gloomy  sadness  during  his  danger,  and 
their  immoderate  joy  at  his  recovery.2 

Having  performed  his  intended  voyage  to  the 
ocean,  and  provided  necessaries  for  a long 
p..  march,  Alexander  determined  to 

cxn-  proceed  towards  Persepolis,  through 

A C 342  t^ie  karren  solitudes  of  Gedrosia. 

This  arduous  design  was  not  in- 
spired by  an  idle  ambition  to  surpass  the  ex- 
ploits of  Cyrus  and  Setniramis,  whose  armies 
were  said  to  have  perished  in  those  deserts,  but 
prompted  by  the  necessity  of  supplying  with 
water,  the  first  European  fleet  which  navigated 
the  Indian  sea,  explored  the  Persian  gulf,  and 
examined  the  mouths  of  the  Euphrates  and  the< 
Tigris.  This  important  voyage  was  performed, 
and  afterwards  related,  by  Nearchus,3  whose 


1 Too  sstost'jo  rtf?  Tokms  ; literally,  “the  absurdity  of  his 
valour,”  could  our  idom  admit  such  an  expression;  xtotto; 
properly  singnifies  “ what  has  no  place  in  nature.”  It  is 
commonly  translated  absurd,  but  may  here  mean  super- 
natural. 

2 The  extraordinary  adventure  related  in  the  text,  is  said 
bv  Curtnis,  1.  ix.  c.  iv.  to  have  happened  in  storming  a city 
of  the  Oxvdrac*.  Lucian  (Dial,  morf.)  et  Pausan.  (Attic.) 
agree  with  Curtius.  But  these  are  feeble  authorities,  com- 
pared with  Arrian,  1.  vi.  p.  127,  et  seq.  et  Strabo,  1.  xvii.  p. 
’02G. 

3 Ncarohus  was  a native  of  Crete,  but  had  long  resided 


[Chap 

enterprising  genius  was  worthy  of  the  master 
whom  he  served.  In  discovering  the  sea  and 
the  land,  the  fleet  and  army  of  Alexander  mu- 
tually assisted  each  other.  By  the  example  of 
the  king,  both  were  taught  to  depise  toil  and 
danger.  On  foot,  and  encumbered  with  his 
armour,  he  traversed  the  tempestuous  sands  of 
the  Persian  coast,  sharing  the  hunger,  thirst, 
and  fatigue  of  the  meanest  soldier;4  nor  was 
it  till  after  a march  of  two  months,  distinguish- 
ed by  unexampled  hardships,  that  the  army 
emerged  into  the  cultivated  province  of  Car- 
mania. 

In  this  country  Alexander  was  met  by  a di- 
vision of  his  forces,  which  he  had  sent  under  the 
command  of  Craterus  through  the  territories  ot 
the  Arii  and  Derangae.  Stasanor  and  Phrata- 
phernes,  governors  of  those  warlike  nations,  and 
of  the  more  northern  provinces  of  Parthia  and 
Hyrcania,  brought  a seasonable  supply  of  camels 
and  other  beasts  of  burden,  to  relieve  the  exi- 
gencies of  an  army  enfeebled  by  disease  and  ex-' 
hausted  by  fatigue.  The  waste  of  men,  occa- 
sioned by  this  destructive  expedition,5  was 
repaired  by  the  arrival  of  numerous  battalions 
from  Media,  which  rendered  the  standard  of 
Alexander  sufficiently  respectable.  Cleander 
and  Sitalus,  the  commanders  of  those  forces, 
were  accused  by  the  Medes  of  despoiling  their 
temples,  ransacking  their  tombs,  and  commit- 
ting other  detestable  deeds  of  avarice  and  cruel- 
ty. Their  own  soldiers  confirmed  the  accusa- 
tion ; and  their  crimes  were  punished  with 
death.  This  prompt  justice  gave  immediate 
satisfaction,  and  served  as  a salutary  example  in 
future;  for,  of  all  the  rules  of  government, 
practised  by  this  illustrious  conqueror,  none 
had  a stronger  tendency  to  confirm  his  autho- 
rity, and  consolidate  his  empire  than  his  vigi- 
lance to  restrain  the  rapacity  of  his  lieutenants, 
and  to  defend  his  subjects  from  oppression.6 


in  Amphipolis.  The  journal  of  his  celebrated  voyage  from 
the  mouth  of  the  Tndus  to  that  of  the  Euphrates,  is  preserved 

in  Arrian’s  Indian  History,  from  c.  xx.  to  c.  xli.  inclusively. 
Seven  months  were  employed  in  this  voyage,  during  three 
of  which  the  fleet  kept  the  sea.  Nearchus  sailed  in  the 

month  of  September,  and  arrived  in  April  in  the  Euphrates, 
Plin.  Nat.  Hist.  1.  vi.  c.  xxiii.  The  relation  of  this  illustri- 
ous admiral  has  been  called  in  question  by  Dodwell,  Har- 
douin,  and  others:  but  i's  authenticity  is  confirmed  bv  the 
incomparable  d’Anville.  See  Recherch.  Georg,  sur  le  Golfe 
Persique,  Acad,  des  Inscrip,  t.  xxx.  p.  133. 

4 Parlies  were  continually  employed  on  all  sides,  in 
searching  for  water.  On  one  occasion,  they  were  more  un- 
fortunate than  usual;  the  heat  of  the  sun  was  excessive, 
and  reflected  bv  the  scorching  sand;  Alexander  inarched 
on  foot,  parched  with  thirst,  exhausted  bv  fatigue,  and  op- 
pressed by  care.  Amidst  these  distressful  circums'ances, 
some  soldiers  discovering  a small  quantity  of  turbid  water, 
brought  it  in  great  haste  to  the  king.  He  received  the  pre- 
sent with  thanks,  then  poured  it  on  the  ground;  and  the 
water,  thus  spilt,  refreshed  not  only  Alexander,  but  the 
whole  army.  Arrian,  p.  141. 

5 Plutarch  savs,  that  the  march  through  Gedrosia  cost 
Alexander  near  one  hundred  thousand  men  ; a palpable  ex- 
aggeration, since  he  supposes  the  whole  army,  at  theT  de- 
parture from  India,  to  have  amounted  to  one  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  foot,  and  fifteen  thousand  horse ; of  which 
one  division  embarked  with  Nearchus,  and  another  march- 
ed, under  the  command  of  Craterus,  through  the  territories 
of  the  Arii  and  Drangte;  little  more  than  a third  part  of  the 
whole  number  entered  the  Gedrosian  deserts. 

0 K*l  TOOTO,  S«5TE  e T l XkkO,  XXTKTXSV  IV  XCtTflX  Tflt  tfiv  H 
TX  AXs5*vjf0u.  XogVXkx'TX,  H tXOVTX  7Tg  0 a TXVT  X , 

TOTXVTX  JU.SV  TTkxiel  OVTX,  TOITOV  Jf  « X.  M X.  x>  V XCttT  TVXOTX’ 
91 1 ovx  s ^ a v vyro  rtj  AXfJttvJgov  &xriknx  xSixturSxi  roof 
xj%a^£v9u5  u?ro  rtuv  ap%ovT<ov.  Arrian,  1.  vi.  p.  143.  “ This, 
especially,  kept  in  awe  the  nations  that  were  either  subdued 
by  Alexander,  or  that  voluntarily  submiited  to  him  (numer 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


455 


XXXIX. 


Among  the  fables,  which  gave  the  air  of  ro- 
mance to  the  memorable  exploits  of  Alexander, 
we  may  reckon  the  triumphant  procession 
through  Carmania.  In  imitation  of  Bacchus, 
Alexander  is  said  to  have  traversed  this  pro- 
vince, amidst  dancing  and  music,  crowned  with 
flowers,  intoxicated  with  wine,  and  allowing 
the  utmost  extravagance  of  disorder  and  folly  to 
himself  and  his  followers.7  The  revel  con- 
tinued seven  days,  during  which  a small  body 
of  sober  men  might  have  overwhelmed  this 
army  of  bacchanals,  and  avenged  the  cause  of 
Darius  and  of  Asia.8  Were  not  this  improbable 
fiction  discountenanced  by  the  silence  of  con- 
temporary writers,9  it  would  be  refuted  by  its 
own  absurdity.  Instead  of  yielding  to  the 
transports  of  mad  joy,  Alexander,  whose  heart 
was  extremely  susceptible  of  compassion,  must 
have  been  deeply  afflicted  by  the  recent  loss  of 
so  many  brave  men ; nor  did  the  necessity  of 
his  affairs,  to  which  he  was  ever  duly  attentive, 
admit  of  unseasonable  delay. 

Encouraged  by  the  long  absence  of  their 
master,  and  the  perils  to  which  his  too  adven- 
turous character  continually  exposed  his  life, 
Harpalus,  Orsines,  and  Abulites,  who  were  re- 
spectively governors  of  Babylon,  Persepolis, 
and  Susa,  began  to  despise  his  orders,  and  to 
act  as  independent  princes,  rather  than  ac- 
countable ministers.  In  such  emergencies,  Al- 
exander knew  by  experience  the  advantage  of 
celerity.  He  therefore  divided  his  army.  The 
greater  part  of  the  heavy-armed  troops  were 
entrusted  to  Hephaestion,  with  orders  to  pro- 
ceed along  the  sea-coast,  and  to  attend  the  mo- 
tions of  the  fleet  commanded  by  Nearchus. 
With  the  remainder  the  king  hastened  to  Pa- 
sargadae.  Orsines  was  convicted  of  many  enor- 
mous crimes,  which  were  punished  with  as 
enormous  severity.19  Baryaxes,  a Mede,  who 
had  assumed  the  royal  tiara,  suffered  death; 
his  numerous  adherents  shared  the  same  fate. 
The  return  of  Alexander  from  the  East  proved 
fatal  to  Abulites,  and  his  son  Oxathres,  who, 
during  the  absence  of  their  master,  had  cruelly 
oppressed  the  wealthy  province  of  Susiana, 
and  particularly  the  inhabitants  of  the  capital. 
Harpalus,  whose  conduct  at  Babylon  had  been 
no  less  flagitious,  escaped  with  his  treasures  to 
Athens : the  avarice  of  the  Athenians  engaged 
them  to  receive  this  wealthy  fugitive;  but  their 
fears  forbade  them  to  harbour  the  enemy  of 
Alexander.  By  a decree  of  the  people,  he  was 
expelled  from  Attica,  and  this  traitor  to  the 
most  generous  of  princes  seems  himself  to  have 
been  soon  afterwards  treacherously  slain.* 1 1 

ous  and  remote  as  they  were;)  that,  under  the  reign  of  this 
prince,  the  governors  durst  not  injure  the  governed.” 

7 Plut.  in  Alexand.  Diodor.  p.  573. 

8 Curtiusvl.  ix.  c.  x. 

9 Arrian  informs  us,  that  neither  Ptolpmv  nor  Aristobulus 
make  the  least  mention  of  this  extraordinary  transaction, 
which  h”  treats  with  proper  contempt.  Vid.  Arrian,  p.  143. 

10  Arrian,  who  excuses  Alexander’s  adopting  the  Persian 
manners,  repeatedly  blames  him  for  imitating  the  Barbarian 
punishments. 

11  Comp.  Curtins,  1.x.  c.  ii.  Plut.  in  Demosthen.  Diodor. 

1.  xviii.  p.  19.  Strabo,  1.  xvii.  p.  576.  But  all  these  writers 
omit  the  first  crime  of  Harpalus  mentioned  by  Arrian,  the 
pardon  of  which  Hops  great  honour  to  the  clemency  of  Al 
exander.  Harpalus,  even  in  the  life-time  of  Philip,  Ijad 
gained  the  friendship  of  his  illustrious  son,  who,  soon  after 
mounting  the  throne,  employed  him  as  his  treasurer.  But, 
before  the  battle  of  Issue,  this  unworthy  minister  betrayed 


The  brave  Peucestos,  who  had  saved  Alexan 
der’s  life  at  the  assault  of  the  Mallian  fortress, 
was  promoted  to  the  government  of  Persia.  In 
this  important  command,  he  proved  his  wisdom 
to  be  equal  to  his  valour.  By  conforming  to 
the  customs,  adopting  the  manners,  and  using 
the  language  of  the  vanquished,  he  acquired 
the  affectionate  respect  of  the  people  committed 
to  his  care.  His  pliant  condescension,  directed 
by  sound  policy,  was  highly  approved  by  the 
discernment  of  Alexander  ; but  his  affectation 
of  foreign  manners  greatly  offended  the  pride 
of  his  Macedonian  countrymen. 

In  the  central  provinces  of  his 
cxiii  4 empire,  which  from  time  lmmemo- 
A C 3*25  r*a^  been  the  seat  of  Asiatic 
pomp  and  luxury,  Alexander  spent 
the  last,  and  not  the  least  glorious,  year  of  his. 
reign.  In  the  nervous  language  of  antiquity, 
the  world  was  silent  in  his  presence  ; and  his 
only  remaining  care  was  to  improve  and  con- 
solidate his  conquests.  For  these  important 
purposes,  he  carefully  examined  the  course  of 
the  Eulaeus,  the  Tigris,  and  the  Euphrates ; 
and  the  indefatigable  industry  of  his  troops  was 
judiciously  employed  in  removing  the  weirs  or 
dams,  by  which  the  timid  ignorance  of  the  As- 
syrian and  Persian  kings  had  obstructed  the 
navigation  of  those  great  rivers.  But  Alexan- 
der, having  no  reason  to  dread  fleets  of  war, 
wished  to  invite  those  of  commerce.  The  har- 
bours were  repaired ; arsenals  were  constructed; 
a bason  was  formed  at  Babylon  sufficient  to 
contain  a thousand  galleys.  By  these  and  simi- 
lar improvements,  he  expected  to  facilitate  in- 
ternal intercourse  among  his  central  provinces, 
while,  by  opening  new  channels  of  communi- 
cation he  hoped  to  unite  the  wealthy  countries 
of  Egypt  and  the  East,  with  the  most  remote 
regions  of  the  earth.  His  ships  were  sent  to 
explore  the  Persian  and  Arabian  gulfs.  Ar- 
chias  brought  him  such  accounts  of  the  former, 
that  he  determined  to  plant  its  shores  with 
Grecian  colonies.  Hieron  of  Soli  proceeded 
farthest  in  examining  the  Arabian  coast ; but 
he  found  it  impossible  to  double  the  southern 
extremity  of  that  immense  peninsula,  and  still 
more  to  remount  (as  he  had  been  command- 
ed by  Alexander)  to  the  city  Hieropolis  in 
Egypt.  This  daring  enterprise  seemed  to  be 
reserved  for  the  king  in  person.  It  is  certain, 
that,  shortly  before  his  death,  he  took  measures 
for  examining  this  great  southern  gulf,  as  well 
as  for  discovering  the  shores  of  the  Caspian 
Sea,  which  was  then  believed  to  communicate 
with  the  Northern  Ocean.12 

But  objects,  less  remote,  demanded  his  more 
immediate  attention.  In  the  winter  season,  the 
waters  of  the  Euphrates,  which  produce  the 
extraordinary  fertility  of  Assyria,13  are  confined 


his  trust,  and  fled  to  Megara.  Alexander,  unwilling  hastily 
to  condemn  an  old  'riend,  who  had  for  his  sake  incurred 
the  resentment  of  Philip,  ascribed  'he  miscpnduct  of  Har- 
palus to  the  bad  counsels  of  Tauriscus,  a daring  villain, 
who  had  accomplished  his  flight.  After  the  death  of  Tau- 
riscus, he  prevailed  on  Harpalus  again  to  return  to  his  ser- 
vice, and  again  entrusted  him  with  the  custody  of  his  trea- 
sures. Arrian,  1.  iii.  c.  vi. 

12  Arrian,  I.  vii.p.  158. 

13  “ This  country,”  according  to  Strabo,  “ is  more  fertile 
than  any  other;  producing,  it  is  said,  three  hundred  fold.” 
Strabo,  p.  1077 


4a  6 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


within  their  lofty  channel.  But  in  spring  and 
summer,  and  especially  towards  the  summer 
solstice  they  overflow  their  banks,  and,  instead 
of  watering,  would  totally  deluge  the  adjacent 
territory,  unless  the  superfluous  fluid  were  dis- 
charged into  the  great  canal  of  Pallacopas.  This 
artificial  river,  formed,  it  is  said,  by  Nebuchad- 
nezzar, commences  a hundred  miles  below  Ba- 
bylon. It  is  not  fed  by  springs,  nor  replenished 
from  mountain  snows,  but  branching  from  the 
great  trunk  of  the  Euphrates,  moderates  its 
too  impetuous  stream,  by  diverting  it  into  the 
sea,  through  lakes  and  marshes,  by  various,  and 
for  the  most  part,  invisible  outlets.  But  this 
useful  contrivance  finally  defeated  its  own  pur- 
pose. The  Pallacopas  gradually  sunk  into  its 
soft  and  oozy  bed,  and  the  Euphrates,  which 
even  originally  was  much  higher  than  this 
canal,  continued  to  flow  into  the  new  channel, 
even  after  the  season  when  its  waters  cease 
to  rise  by  the  melting  of  the  Armenian  snows. 
This  diminution  of  the  river  rendered  it  insuf- 
ficient to  water  the  fields  of  Assyria;  an  incon- 
venience severely  felt  in  a country  almost  unac- 
quainted with  rain.  The  governors  of  Baby  lon 
attempted  unsuccessfully  to  remedy  the  evil, 
whose  magnitude  justly  excited  the  attention 
of  Alexander.  From  war,  the  mother  of  arts, 
he  had  learned  to  improve  the  benefits  of  peace. 
While  preparations  were  making  for  more  dis- 
tant expeditions,  he  sailed  down  the  Euphrates  ; 
carefully  examined  the  nature  of  the  soil ; and 
having  discovered,  at  the  distance  of  about  four 
miles  from  the  inosculation  of  the  Euphrates 
and  Pallacopas,  a hard  and  rocky  bottom,  he 
commanded  a canal  to  be  cut  there,  which  serv- 
ed to  moderate  the  inundations  at  one  season, 
without  too  much  draining  the  waters  at  an- 
other. Having  performed  this  essential  service 
to  Assyria,  he  followed  the  course  of  the  Palla- 
copas, and  surveyed  the  lakes  and  marshes, 
which  guard  the  Arabian  frontiers.  In  the 
neighbourhood  of  this  new  canal,  he  observed 
a convenient  situation  for  a city,  which  being 
built  and  fortified,  was  peopled  with  those  su- 
perannuated Greeks,  who  seemed  no  longer  ca- 
pable of  military  service,  and  with  such  others 
of  their  countrymen  as  thought  proper  to  settle 
in  this  fertile,  though  remote  country.1 

Animated  by  a zeal  for  public  happiness, 
Alexander  thus  traversed  the  populous  provinces 
of  the  East,  and  successively  visited  the  imperial 
cities  of  Persepolis,  Susa,  Ecbatana,  and  Baby- 
lon. These  places,  and  others  of  inferior  note, 
were  adorned  with  signal  marks  of  his  taste, 
and  respectively  distinguished  by  transactions 
which  discover  the  boldest,  yet  most  enlighten- 
ed views  of  policy.  The  important  design  of 
uniting,  by  laws  and  manners,  the  subjects  of 
his  extensive  monarchy,  was  ever  present  to  his 
mind.  For  this  purpose,  lie  took  care  to  incor- 
porate in  his  Barbarian  armies  the  Greeks  and 
Macedonians.  In  each  company,  or  rather  in 
each  division  of  sixteen,  he  joined  four  Euro- 
peans to  twelve  Asiatics.  In  the  Macedonian 
squadrons  and  battalions,  he  intermixed,  on  the 
other  hand,  such  of  the  Barbarians  as  were 
most  distinguished  by  their  strength,  their  acti- 


[ClIAP. 

vity,  and  their  merit.  Soon  after  the  battle  of 
Arbela,  he  had  given  orders  to  raise  new  levies 
in  the  conquered  provinces.  The  Barbarian 
youth  delighted  in  the  Grecian  exercise  and  dis- 
cipline, and  rejoiced  at  being  associated  to  the 
glory  of  their  victors.  On  the  banks  of  the 
Tigris,  Alexander  was  joined  by  a powerful 
body  of  those  recruits,  whose  improvements  in 
arts  and  arms  fully  answered  his  expectations, 
and  justly  rewarded  his  foresight.  The  arrival 
of  such  numerous  auxiliaries  enabled  him  to 
discharge  at  Opis,  a city  on  the  Tigris,  such 
Greeks  and  Macedonians  as  were  tired  of  the 
service,  worn  out  with  age,  or  enfeebled  by 
sickness.  After  an  interesting  scene,  which  we 
shall  have  occasion  to  describe,  he  dismissed 
those  respectable  veterans,  loaded  with  wealth 
and  honours.  They  were  conducted  by  Cra- 
terus,  whom  he  appointed  to  succeed  Antipater 
in  the  administration  of  his  European  domi- 
nions ; and  Antipater,  who  had  long  executed 
that  important  trust  with  equal  prudence  and 
fidelity,  was  commanded  to  join  his  master 
with  new  levies  from  Greece,  Thrace,  and 
Macedon.2 

At  Susa,  Alexander  learned  that  his  soldiers, 
indulging  the  extravagance  too  natural  to  their 
profession,  had  contracted  immense  debts,  which 
they  had  neither  ability  nor  inclination  to  pay. 
Upon  this  intelligence,  he  issued  orders  that 
each  man  should  give  an  exact  account  of  what 
he  owed,  with  the  names  of  his  creditors,  de- 
claring, that  he  was  determined  to  satisfy  them 
at  his  own  expense.  The  troops  suspected  an 
intention,  merely  to  discover  their  characters, 
and  to  learn  their  economy  or  profusion.  At 
first,  therefore,  many  denied,  and  all  diminish- 
ed, their  debts.  But  Alexander  issued  a se- 
cond declaration,  “ That  it  became  not  a prince 
to  deceive  his  people,  nor  a people  to  suppose 
their  prince  capable  of  deceit.”  Faithful  lists 
were  immediately  presented,  and  the  whole 
debts  discharged,  to  the  amount,  it  is  said,  of 
four  millions  sterling. 

This  event  was  accompanied  by  a transac- 
tion of  a different  kind,  which  discovers,  how- 
ever, the  same  spirit,  and  which  equally  en- 
deared Alexander  to  his  Asiatic  subjects.  In 
the  royal  palace  of  Susa,  he  publicly  espoused 
Barcin£,3  the  daughter  of  Darius ; and  bestowed 
her  sister  Drypetis  on  his  friend  Hephaestion, 
saying,  that  he  wished  their  children  to  be  kins- 
men. By  the  advice  of  their  master,  Perdic- 
cas,  Seleucus,  Ptolemy,  and  other  generals,  in- 
termarried with  the  most  illustrious  of  the  van- 
quished Barbarians.  The  soldiers  were  encou- 
raged by  presents,  and  by  the  hope  of  royal 
favour,  to  follow  the  example  of  their  leaders ; 
and  it  appeared  from  the  catalogue  of  their 
names,  presented  to  the  king,  that  above  ten 
thousand  Greeks  and  Macedonians  married 
Asiatic  women.4 


2 Arrian,  ubi  supra. 

3 Called  Stalira  by  Curtius,  Justin,  and  Plutarch. 

4 Plutarch,  seizing  the  true  spirit  of  these  regulations, 
exclaims,  Cl  GxgGxgs  sseZ.v,  **»  avatj-rt,  x®<  fixrv.v  sroxx® 
7regi  rvi v •EXX>i<rjrovT»ai'  7rov*dei$  yectigxv,  outuij  e/tCfO- 
i>£(?  6®<r« \e»j  A<r»®v  Eupa»n-()  arwxirTova-i,  o\i  £uXsi$,  ouii 

ouJs  ®i|/u%o<{  *“*  x<rvf*irx&Hri  £10748*5,  «XX’ 
! igioTi  v a fx.iu.ti  xxi  yxfiOig  xxi  xoivwvixtg  rrxiStav 

I t®  yiv s a-vvxtr tovti}.  “ O ! barbarous  and  foolish  Xerxes 


1 Arrian,  ubi  supra. 


XXXIX.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


457 


In  all  the  cities  which  he  visited, 
7 P’  he  was  careful  to  celebrate  the  mu- 
CX1V’  * sical  and  gymnastic  games ; those 
distinguishing  fruits  of  Grecian  culture,  which 
being  adapted  to  gratify  the  senses,  as  well  as 
to  please  the  fancy,  were  beheld  with  delight  | 
even  by  the  most  ignorant  Barbarians.  Con- 
vinced that  nothing  has  a more  direct  tendency 
to  unite  and  harmonize  the  minds  and  manners 
of  men,  than  public  entertainments  and  com- 
mon pleasures,  Alexander  determined  to  intro- 
duce and  diffuse  the  amusements  of  the  thea- 
tre. For  this  purpose  above  three  thousand 
players  and  musicians,  collected  from  all  parts 
of  Greece,  assembled  in  Ecbatana,  the  capital 
of  Media,  which  was  chosen  for  the  scene  of 
those  theatrical  exhibitions.5  But  the  sickness 
and  death  of  Hephaestion  changed  this  magni- 
ficent spectacle  into  melancholy  obsequies.  In 
the  moment  of  his  triumph,  the  king  was  de- 
prived of  his  dearest  friend.6  This  irreparable 
loss,  he  felt  and  expressed  with  an  affectionate 
ardour  congenial  to  his  character,  and  justified 
his  immoderate  sorrow  by  the  inconsolable7 
grief  of  Achilles  for  the  fate  of  his  beloved 
Patrocles.  During  three  days  and  nights  after 
the  death  of  Hephaestion,  Alexander  neither 
changed  his  apparel  nor  tasted  food.  A public 
mourning  was  observed  throughout  the  empire. 
Funeral  games  were  celebrated  in  the  great 
cities;  the  royal  cohort  wars  commanded  thence- 
forward to  retain  the  name  and  banner  of  He- 
phaestion ;8  and  the  lofty  genius  of  Stasicrates 
erected  at  Ecbatana  a monument  worthy  of 
him , whom  the  obsequious  oracle  of  Ammon 
declared  deserving  of  heroic  worship.  To  ap- 
pease the  grief  of  Alexander,  his  lieutenants 
dedicated  their  armour  at  the  tomb  of  his  friend. 
The  example  was  given  by  Eumenes,  the  king’s 
secretary,  who  ghortly  before  Hephaestion’s 
death,  had  offended  this  illustrious  favourite  ; 
a man  who  long  and  uninterruptedly  enjoyed, 


thou  who  labouredst  in  vain  to  throw  a bridge  over  the 
Hellespont,  it  is  thus  that  wise  kings  join  Asia  to  Europe, 
not  by  boards,  ships,  lifeless  and  insensible  bonds,  but  by 
lawful  love,  chaste  nuptials,  and  the  indissoluble  tie  of 
common  progeny.”  Plut.  Orat.  i.  de  Fortun.  Alexand. 
See  likewise  above,  c.  ix.  p.  113. 

5 It  should  seem  from  Plutarch,  that  the  entertainments 

of  the  theatre  were  soon  diffused  through  other  parts  of 
Asia.  A\itxv$go\j  xi)v  Aj-istii  oui/toj,  Ogr/ig o$  v\v 

xqxyvu><r/xxf  xxi  Tligirwv  xxt  Xovtixvuiv  xxt  re&gu/riiov 
2rxi$ !(  rxg  E-jgiTriSov  xxi  Xo$oxX.sQvs  TgxywSixg  yXov. 
“ Alexander,  having  tamed  Asia,  Homer  was  read  in  the 
East;  the  children  of  the  Persians,  Susians,  and  Gedrosia, 
recited  the  tragedies  of  Sophocles  and  Euripides.”  Plut. 
ibid. 

6 Next  to  Hephaestion,  Craterus  seems  to  have  enjoyed 
the  greatest  share  of  Alexander’s  confidence;  yet  he  often 
said,  “Craterus  loves  the  king,  Hephaestion  loves  Alexan- 
der.” Plutarch  in  Alexand.  In  passing  through  the  Tro- 
ade,  Alexander  crowned  the  tomb  of  Achilles,  and  He- 
pha;stion  that  of  Patrocles.  /Elian,  Var.  Hist.  xii.  7. 

7 If,  in  the  melancholy  shades  below, 

The  flames  of  friends  and  lovers  cease  to  glow, 

Yet  mine  shall  sacred  last;  and,  undecay’d, 

Burn  on  through  death,  and  animate  my  shade. 

Pope’s  Iliad. 

8 According  to  Plutarch,  Stasicrates  proposed  to  form 
Mount  Athos  into  a statue  of  Alexander,  grasping  a city 
with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  discharging  a river  into 
the  sea.  Plut.  in  Alexand.  Vitruvius,  1.  ii.  in  Pioem.  et  Lu- 
cian, t.  ii.  p.  489.  ascribe  this  design  to  Dinocrates.  Alex- 
ander extolled  the  boldness  of  the  artist,  but  added,  Ex  Js 
/ueveiv  tov  A9v  xxrx  jr-jofstv  xgxti  yxg  t vog  &x<riKi>os  £vu- 
Ggitrxv tos  tivxi  /xvx/xtiov.  “Let  alone  Mount  Athos;  it 
is  enough  that  it  is  the  monument  of  one  king’s  folly  alrea- 
dy alluding  to  the  event  related  above,  c.  ix.  p.  113. 

3 M 


without  abusing  in  any  one  instance,  the  confi- 
dence of  his  master ; who  exercised  power 
without  pride,  and  enforced  discipline  without 
severity  ; whose  conduct  merited  at  once  pub- 
lic respect  and  royal  favour,  and  whose  virtues 
j disarmed  envy.9 

To  moderate  and  divert  his  sorrow,  Alexan- 
der, who  in  the  practice  of  war  found  at  once 
business  and  amusement,  undertook  an  expedi- 
tion in  person,  which  perhaps  would  otherwise 
have  been  committed  to  the  valour  of  his  lieu- 
tenants. The  Cossosans,  a fierce  and  untracta- 
ble  nation,  inhabited  the  southern  frontier  of 
Media.  Secure  amidst  their  rocks  and  fast- 
nesses, they  had  ever  defied  the  arms  of  the 
Persians ; and  the  degenerate  successors  of 
Cyrus  had  judged  it  more  prudent  to  purchase 
their  friendship  than  to  repel  their  hostility.  In 
their  annual  journey  from  Babylon  to  Ecbatana, 
the  pride  of  these  magnificent  but  pusillani- 
mous princes  condescended  to  bestow  presents 
on  the  Cossssans,  that  they  might  procure  an 
undisturbed  passage  for  themselves  and  their 
train  ; and  this  impolitic  meanness  only  in- 
creased the  audacity  of  the  mountaineers,  who 
often  ravaged  the  Susian  plains,  and  often  re- 
tired to  their  fastnesses,  loaded  with  the  richest 
spoils  of  Media.  Alexander  was  not  of  a tem- 
per patiently  to  endure  the  repetition  of  such 
indignities.  In  forty  days,  he  attacked,  de- 
feated, and  totally  subdued  this  rapacious  and 
warlike  tribe.  The  Cosseeans  were  driven  from 
their  last  retreats,  and  compelled  to  surrender 
their  territory.  After  obtaining  sufficient  pledges 
of  their  fidelity,  the  conqueror  allowed  them  to 
ransom  their  prisoners,  and  at  his  departure 
from  their  country,  took  care  to  erect  such  for- 
tresses as  seemed  necessary  for  bridling,  in  fu- 
ture, the  dangerous  fury  of  this  headstrong 
people.16 

In  returning  from  this  successful  expedition 
towards  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates,  Alexander 
was  met  by  ambassadors  from  Carthage,  Spain, 
and  Italy,  as  well  as  from  many  inland  coun- 
tries of  Asia  and  Africa,  extending  from  Mount 
Imaus  to  the  southern  extremity  of  /Ethiopia. 
It  was  then,  says  his  historian,  that  he  appear- 
ed master  of  the  world,  both  to  his  followers 
and  to  himself ; and,  as  if  the  known  parts  of 
it  had  been  insufficient  to  satisfy  his  ambition, 
he  gave  orders  to  cut  timber  in  the  Hyrcanian 
forest,  with  a design  to  build  ships,  and  explore 
the  undiscovered  shores  of  the  Caspian  and 
Arabian  seas.  But  neither  these  lofty  designs, 
nor  the  glory  of  war,  nor  the  pomp  of  royalty, 
which,  of  all  princes,  Alexander  enjoyed  in  the 
greatest  splendour,11  could  appease  his  grief  for 


9 Arrian,  p.  756.  tells  us,  that  concerning  the  funeral  ho- 
nours of  HepliffiBtion,  innumerable  and  absurd  fictions  were 
invented  by  the  friends  and  by  the  enemies  of  Alexander ; 
nay,  what  is  extraordinary,  the  same  falsehoods  were  some- 
times authorised  by  both  ; the  former  intending  thereby  to 
extol  the  warmth  of  his  friendship,  the  latter  to  expose  his 
extravagance  and  folly. 

10  Such  i9  the  account  of  this  expedition  given  by  Ar- 
rian, 1.  vii.  p.  157.  and  confirmed  bv  Strabo,  1.  xi.  p.  795. 
and  by  Diodorus,  1.  xvii.  p.  577.  Plutarch,  on  the  other 
hand,  most  unwarrantably  and  absurdly  tells  us,  that  Alex 
ander,  to  divert  his  grief,  took  the  amusement  of  man-hum- 
ing,  and  massacred  the  whole  Oossaean  nation,  without  dis- 
tinction of  age  or  sex.  Plut.  p.  94. 

11  Vid.  Athen.  1.  x.  p.  436.  et  1.  xii.  p.  537 — 541.  Wo 
may  believe  that  Alexander’s  tent  contained  a hundred 


458 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


the  loss  of  Hephaestion.  The  death  of  his  be- 
loved friend  is  said,  by  Arrian,  to  have  hasten- 
ed his  own.  It  certainly  tinged  his  character 
with  a deep  melancholy,  which  rendered  him 
susceptible  of  such  impressions  as  the  firmness 
of  his  manly  soul  would  otherwise  have  re- 
sisted and  repelled. 

He,  who  had  so  often  employed  superstition 
as  an  instrument  of  policy,  began  himself  to 
fall#  prey  to  that  miserable  passion.  The  ser- 
vants of  princes,  ever  quick  in  discerning,  and 
dexterous  in  turning  to  their  own  profit,  the 
foibles  of  their  masters,  soon  discovered  and 
abused  the  weakness  of  Alexander.  Alarmed 
at  the  severe  treatment  of  several  of  his  col- 
leagues, Apollodorus,  a citizen  of  Amphipolis, 
who  had  been  entrusted  with  the  government 
of  Babylon,  practised  with  his  brother  Pytha- 
goras, a diviner ; and  the  latter,  ambitious  to 
promote  the  greatness  of  his  family,  pretended 
to  perceive  in  the  victims  evident  marks  of  di- 
vine displeasure  against  the  king,  should  he 
enter  the  gates  of  Babylon.  Notwithstanding 
this  menace,  Alexander,  after  reducing  the  Cos- 
SEeans,  approached  towards  that  city  with  his 
army.  He  was  met  by  a long  train  of  Chal- 
dajan  priests,  who  conjured  him  to  change  his 
resolution,  because  they  had  received  an  oracle 
from  Belus,  declaring  that  his  journey  thither 
would  prove  fatal.  The  interest  of  the  Chal- 
daeans  conspired  with  the  views  of  Apollodo- 
rus. The  temple  of  Belus,  a stupendous  edi- 
fice, situate  in  the  heart  of  Babylon,  had  been 
very  richly  endowed  by  the  Assyrian  kings. 
But  the  produce  of  the  consecrated  ground, 
instead  of  being  applied  to  its  original  destina- 
tion of  repairing  the  temple,  and  offering  sacri- 
fices to  the  gods,  had,  ever  since  the  impious 
reign  of  Xerxes,  been  appropriated  by  the  Chal- 
dsean  priests.  Alexander,  it  is  well  known,  in- 
tended to  reform  this  abuse  ; and,  although  his 
mind  was  not  altogether  unmoved  by  the  ad- 
monition of  the  priests,  he  discerned  their  in- 
terested motives,  and  answered  them  by  a 
verse  of  Euripides,  “ He’s  the  best  prophet  that 
conjectures  best.”  Foiled  in  their  first  attempt, 
the  Chaldaeans  had  recourse  to  another  artifice. 
Since  the  king  had  determined  at  every  hazard 
to  visit  Babylon,  they  entreated  him  at  least 
not  to  enter  it  on  the  eastern  side,  but  to  fetch 
a compass  round,  and  to  march  with  his  face 
towards  the  rising  sun.  He  prepared  to  com- 
ply with  this  advice  ; but  the  marshiness  of  the 
soil  rendered  his  design  impracticable  ; and  he 


couches ; that  the  pillars  which  supported  it  were  encrusted 
with  gold  ; that  he  gave  audience,  surrounded  with  guards, 
and  seated  on  a golden  throne.  In  the  language  of  anti- 
quity, “ the  master  of  both  continents”  found  it  necessary 
to  unite  the  pomp  of  the  East  with  the  arts  of  Greece.  But 
when  Athenreus  tells  us  of  the  precious  essences,  the  frag- 
rant wines,  the  effeminacy,  and  vices,  of  Alexander,  wo 
discover  the  credulous,  or  rather  criminal  sophist,  who  has 
collected  into  one  work  all  the  vices  and  impurities  which 
disgraced  his  country  and  human  nature.  To  the  unwar- 
ranted assertions  of  the  obscure  writers  cited  by  an  yElian 
(1.  ix.  c.  iii.)  and  an  Athenaeus,  we  can  oppose  the  authority 
of  an  Arrian  and  a Plutarch. — Could  he  who  so  severely 
censured  the  effeminate  and  luxurious  life  of  Agnon  and 
Pb'lotas,  be  himself  effeminate  and  luxurious.  “ Of  all 
men,”  says  Arrian,  “ Alexander  was  the  most  economical 
in  what  regarded  his  private  pleasures.”  Arrian,  1.  vii.  p. 
167. 


[Chap 

was  thus  reluctantly  compelled  to  enter  the  city 
b^r  the  forbidden  road. 

During  his  short  stay  at  Babylon,  his  mind 
was  disturbed  by  superstitious  fears,1  awakened 
by  the  intrigues  of  Apollodorus,  or  the  artifices 
of  the  Chaldseans,  and  confirmed  by  a circum- 
stance well  fitted  to  operate  on  a disordered 
fancy.  In  his  Indian  expedition,  he  had  con- 
versed with  the  Gymnosophists,  or  Brachmans, 
men  who  practised  the  philosophy  which  Plato 
taught,  and  whose  contempt  for  the  pomp  and 
pleasures  of  the  present  life,  was  founded  on 
the  firm  belief  of  a better  and  more  permanent 
state  of  existence.  To  those  sages,  the  fortu- 
nate ambition  of  Alexander  appeared  an  object 
of  derision  or"  pity.  At  sight  of  the  conqueror, 
they  stamped  their  feet  with  vehemence  on  the 
ground ; indicating,  by  an  expressive  action, 
more  eloquent  than  words,  that  he,  whose  name 
now  filled  the  world,  must  soon  be  confined 
within  the  narrow  grave.  The  flatterers  of  the 
king  rebuked  them  for  insulting  the  sun  of  Ju- 
piter, who  had  the  power  to  reward  or  punish 
them.  They  replied,  by^  saying,  “ That  all 
were  the  sons  of  Jupiter ; that  the  rewards  of 
Alexander  they  disdained,  and  set  at  defiance 
his  punishments,  which  at  last  could  only  re- 
lieve them  from  the  load  of  frail  mortality.” 
Yet  Calanus,  one  of  their  number,  allured  by 
curiosity,  or  irresistibly  captivated  by  the  sooth- 
ing condescension  of  the  king,  agreed  to  accom- 
pany him;  for  which  inconsistency  he  was 
much  blamed  by  his  companions.  Alexander 
treated  this  eastern  sage  with  great  respect, 
and  when  Calanus,  who  had  passed  his  seventy- 
second  year  without  experiencing  any  bodily 
infirmity,  fell  sick  in  Persia,  the  affectionate 
prince  earnestly  entreated  him  not  to  anticipate 
fate  by  a voluntary  death.  But  finding  him 
inflexibly  bent  on  this  purpose,  he  allowed  a 
pyre  to  be  constructed,  to  which  the  Indian 
(being  too  feeble  to  walk  or  ride  on  horse-back) 
was  conveyed  in  a litter.  In  sight  of  the  Ma- 
cedonian army,  who  had  been  ordered  to  assist 
ai  this  uncommon  solemnity,  Calanus  composed 
himself  decently  on  the  pyre  ; the  music  struck 
up;  the  soldiers  raised  a shout  of  war;  and  the 
Indian,  with  a serene  countenance,  expired 
amidst  the  flames,  singing  a hymn  to  the  gods 
of  his  country. 

The  curiosity  of  Alexander  was  unbounded; 
but  his  humanity  likewise  was  great.  This 
principle,  which  is  too  often  a stranger  to  the 
breast  of  conquerors,  made  him  decline  witness- 
ing the  extraordinary  death  of  a friend,  who, 
for  his  sake,  had  abandoned  his  native  land. 
But  before  Calanus  was  carried  to  the  funeral 
pile,  the  king  affectionately  paid  him  the  last 
visit.  Calanus  having  embraced  all  present, 
refused  to  take  leave  of  Alexander,  saying,  that 
“ he  should  again  see  him  in  Babylon.”  The 
words  of  a dying  man  were  considered  by  the 
Greeks  as  prophetical.  Those  of  Calanus  sunk 
deep  into  the  mind  of  Alexander;  and  the  pain- 
ful impression  which  they  made,  hastened  his 
departure  from  a city,  in  which  so  many  con- 
curring circumstances  forbade  him  to  reside. 


1 He  became,  says  Plutarch,  iuo-tXa-ij  a-jof  to  Bttov. 


XXXIX.] 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE 


459 


Olymp. 
cxiv.  1. 

A.  C.  324. 
May  28th. 


His  superstitious  terrors,  how- 
ever, seem  to  have  been  diverted 
by  the  voyage  down  the  Euphrates, 
and  by  directing  the  improvements 
in  the  canal  of  Pallacopas.  Having 
resumed  his  courage,  he  ventured  to  return  to 
Babylon,  gave  audience  to  some  Grecian  am- 
bassadors, who  presented  him  with  golden 
crowns  from  the  submissive  flattery  of  their 
several  republics ; and  having  reviewed  his 
troops  and  galleys,  prepared  to  execute  the  en- 
terprises which  he  had  so  long  meditated.  But 
his  designs  and  his  life  were  now  drawing  to  a 
close.  Whether  to  conquer  his  melancholy,  or 
to  triumph  in  the  victory  which  he  had  already 
gained  over  it,  he  indulged,  without  modera- 
tion, in  that  banqueting  and  festivity  to  which, 
after  the  fatigues  of  war,  he  had  often  shown 
himself  too  much  addicted;  and  a fever,  occa- 
sioned, or  at  least  increased,  by  an  excessive 
abuse  of  wine,  the  vice  of  his  nation  and  of  his 
family,  put  a period  to  his  life  in  the  thirty- 
third  year  of  his  age,  and  in  the  thirteenth  of 
his  reign.  After  the  first  days  of  the  disorder, 
he  had  been  conveyed  to  the  cool  verdure  of  a 
beautiful  garden ; but  the  malady  increasing,  he 
was  soon  brought  back  to  the  palace.  The  last 
remains  of  strength,  he  spent  in  assisting  at 
daily  sacrifices  to  the  gods.  During  his  illness 
he  spoke  but  little,  and  that  only  concerning 
his  intended  expeditions.  The  temples  were 
crowded  by  his  friends;  the  generals  waited  in 
the  hall ; the  soldiers  surrounded  the  gates. 
Such  was  the  grief  of  many,  and  the  respectful 
admiration  of  all,  that  none  ventured  to  an- 
nounce to  him  his  approaching  dissolution, 
none  ventured  to  demand  his  last  orders. 
When  all  hopes  of  recovery  had  vanished,  his 
favourite  troops  were  admitted  to  behold  him. 
He  was  speechless,  but  had  still  strength  to 
stretch  forth  his  hand.2 

Such  was  the  reign  of  Alexander,  whose  cha- 
racter, being  unexampled  and  inimitable,  can 
only  be  explained  by  relating  his  actions.  He 
was  of  a low  stature,  and  somewhat  deformed; 
but  the  activity  and  elevation  of  his  mind  ani- 
mated and  ennobled  his  frame.  By  a life  of 
continual  labour,  and  by  an  early  and  habitual 
practice  of  the  gymnastic  exercises,  he  had  har- 
dened his  body  against  the  impressions  of  cold 
and  heat,  hunger  and  thirst,3  and  prepared  his 
robust  constitution  for  bearing  such  exertions 
of  strength  and  activity,  as  have  appeared  in- 
credible to  the  undisciplined  softness  of  modern 
times.  In  generosity  and  in  prowess,  he  rival- 
led the  greatest  heroes  of  antiquity;  and  in  the 
race  of  glory,  having  finally  outstripped  all 
competitors,  became  ambitious  to  surpass  him- 
self. His  superior  skill  in  war  gave  uninter- 
rupted success  to  his  arms;  and  his  natural 


2 Arrian  says,  that  many  reports  were  spread  concerning 
the  death  of  Alexander,  such  as,  that  he  had  been  poisoned 
by  the  emissaries  of  Antipater,  whom,  as  mentioned  above 
in  the  text,  he  had  recently  deprived  of  the  government  of 
Greece  and  Macedon;  that  when  asked  to  whom  he  he 
queathed  the  empire,  he  had  nnswered,  to  the  “stiongest;” 
and  that,  he  had  foretold  his  obsequies  would  be  celebrated 
by  bloody  wars  among  his  lieutenants.  But  these  rumours 
received  not  the  least  countenance  from  the  royal  diary, 
which  seems  to  have  been  carefully  copied  by  Arrian,  nor 
from  the  histories  of  Ptolemy  and  Aristobulns. 

3 Plut.  Orut.  i.  ct  ii.  de  Fortun.  Alexand. 


humanity,  enlightened  by  the  philosophy  of 
Greece,  taught  him  to  improve  his  conquests 
to  the  best  interests  of  mankind.4  In  his  ex- 
tensive dominions,  he  built,  or  founded,  not  less 
than  seventy  cities,5 *  the  situation  of  which  be- 
ing chosen  with  consummate  wisdom,  tended 
to  facilitate  communication,  to  promote  com- 
merce, and  to  diffuse  civility  through  the  great- 
est nations  of  the  earth.5  It  may  be  suspected, 
indeed,  that  he  mistook  the  extent  of  human 
power,  when,  in  the  course  of  one  reign,  he  un- 
dertook to  change  the  face  of  the  world ; and 
that  he  miscalculated  the  stubbornness  of  igno- 
rance, and  the  force  of  habit,  when  he  attempt- 
ed to  enlighten  barbarism,  to  soften  servitude 
and  to  transplant  the  improvements  of  Greece 
into  an  African  and  Asiatic  soil,  where  they 
have  never  been  known  to  flourish.  Yet  let 
not  the  designs  of  Alexander  be  too  hastily  ac- 
cused of  extravagance.  Whoever  seriously 
considers  what  he  actually  performed  before 
his  thirty-third  year,  will  be  cautious  of  deter- 
mining what  he  might  have  accomplished,  had 
he  reached  the  ordinary  term  of  human  life. 
His  resources  were  peculiar  to  himself;  and 
such  views,  as  well  as  actions,  became  him,  as 
would  have  become  none  besides.  In  the  lan- 
guage of  a philosophical  historian,  “he  seems 
to  have  been  given  to  the  world  by  a peculiar 
dispensation  of  Providence,  being  a man  like 
to  none  other  of  the  human  kind.”7 

From  the  part  which  his  father  Philip  and 
himself  acted  in  the  affairs  of  Greece,  his  history 
has  been  transmitted  through  the  impure  chan- 
nels of  exaggerated  flattery,  or  malignant  envy. 
The  innumerable  fictions,  which  disgrace  the 
works  of  his  biographers,  are  contradicted  by 
the  most  authentic  accounts  of  his  reign,  and 
inconsistent  with  those  public  transactions, 
which  concurring  authorities  confirm.  In  the 
present  work,  it  seemed  unnecessary  to  expa- 
tiate on  such  topics,  since  it  is  less  the  business 
of  history  to  repeat,  or  even  to  expose  errors, 
than  to  select  and  impress  useful  truths.  An  au- 
thor, ambitious  of  attaining  that  purpose,  can 
seldom  indulge  the  language  of  general  pane- 
gyric. He  will  acknowledge,  that  Alexander’s  ac- 
tions were  not  always  blameless  ; but,  after  the 
most  careful  examination,  he  will  affirm,  that 
his  faults  were  few  in  number,  and  resulted  from 
his  situation  rather  than  from  his  character. 


4 Plutarch  says,  the  nations  conquered  by  Alexander 
might  adopt  the  language  of  Themistoles,  when,  in  conse- 
quence of  his  banish/nent  from  Greece,  he  was  raised  to 
great  wealth  and  honour  in  Asia,  “it  irxtScs  xrrcuKofecsx, 
ei  /uq  «jr<uX.oiusS:e.”  “O  my  children!  we  should  have 
beiii  undone,  had  we  not  been  undone.”  In  the  snme 
manner,  those  nations,  had  they  not  been  vanquished  bv 
Alexander,  had  not  been  civilized,  Egypt  would  not  beast, 
her  Alexandria,  Mesopotamia  her  Seleucia,  &c.  And 
again,  “Alexander  taught  marriage  to  the  Hyrcanians,  and 
agriculture  to  the  Arachosii.  He  taught  the  Sogdinns  to 
maintain,  and  not  to  kill,  their  parents;  the  Persians  to  re- 
spect, and  not  to  marry,  their  mothers;  the  Scythians  to 
bury,  and  not  to  eat,  their  dead.”  Plut.  ibid. 

5 Vid.  Plut.  de  Fortun.  Alexand.  tit.  ii.  p.  327.  In  the 
language  of  Plutarch,  he  sowed  Asia  with  Greek  cities. 

0 Plut.  ibid.  Diodor.  Stcul.  xvii.  83.  Stephan.  Byzanf. 
in  voc.  Axs^tevJesioe. 

7 OvJe  i/AOi  s|-'jo  too  Sc  too  t:\jvxi  eev  SOXIC  OvScvl 

xKKu  s tvSe'MJT'uv  toixiof.  Arrian,  p.  1(58.  How  far  he  was 
an  instrument  in  the  hands  of  Divine  Providence,  belongs 
not  to  the  subject  of  profane  history  to  inquire.  On  this 
subject,  the  reader  may  see  Bishop  Lowth  on  Isaiah,  xix. 
18.  and  xxiv.  14. 


460 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


From  the  first  years  of  his  reign,  he  experi- 
enced the  crimes  of  disaffection  and  treachery, 
which  multiplied,  and  became  more  dangerous, 
with  the  extent  of  his  dominions,  and  the  diffi- 
culty to  govern  them.  Several  of  his  lieute- 
nants early  aspired  at  independence ; others 
formed  conspiracies  against  the  life  of  their 
master.  The  first  criminals  were  treated,  as 
we  have  already  seen,  with  a lenity  becoming 
the  generous  spirit  of  Alexander.  But  when 
Q,  Philotas,  the  son  of  Parmenio,  and 

cxn  4 even  Parmenio1  himself,  afforded 
A C 329  reason  to  susPect  their  fidelity ; 

when  the  Macedonian  youths,  who, 
according  to  the  institution  of  Philip,  guarded 
the  royal  Pavilion,  prepared  to  murder  their 
sovereign, 2 he  found  it  necessary  to  depart 
from  his  lenient  system,  and  to  hold  with  a 
firmer  hand  the  reins  of  government.  Elated 
by  unexampled  prosperity,  and  the  submissive 
reverence  of  vanquished  nations,  his  loftiness 
disgusted  the  pride  of  his  European  troops,  par- 
ticularly the  Macedonian  nobles,  who  had  been 
accustomed  to  regard  themselves  rather  as  his 


1 Philotas  was  punished  in  the  country  of  the  Arii ; Par- 
menio  was  put  to  death  in  Media.  Curtius  (1.  vi.  c.  vii.  et 
seq.)  who  has  given  the  fullest  account  of  these  executions, 
says,  that  Philotas  deserved  not  the  compassion  of  his 
friends,  “ Amicorum  misericordiain  non  meruit.”  He  leaves 
it  uncertain  whether  Parmenio  fell  a sacrifice  to  his  own 
treason,  or  to  the  policy  of  Alexander.  Arrian  thinke,  that 
the  death  of  Parmenio  was  neeessary  to  his  master’s 
safety. — Although  the  evidence  of  this  general’s  guilt  has 
not  been  handed  down  to  posterity,  Alexander,  it  is  certain, 
believed  him  guilty.  He  who  disdained  to  conquer  his 
enemies  by  deceit,  cannot,  without  proof,  be  supposed  capa- 
ble of  treacherously  assassinating  his  friends. 

2 This  conspiracy  is  related  by  Arrian,  1.  iv.  c.  xiii.  and 
xiv.  The  scene  was  Bactra,  or  Zariaspa,  the  captital  of 
Bactria.  At  a hunting-match,  the  king,  being  ready  to  kill 
a boar,  was  anticipated  by  Hermolaus.  To  punish  the  in- 
solence of  the  youth,  Alexander  ordered  him  to  be  whipped. 
The  disgrace  seemed  intolerable  to  Hermolaus  and  his 
companions;  a conspiracy  was  formed  to  destroy  Alexan- 
der in  his  sleep.  It  was  discovered  by  Ptolemy,  the  son  of 
Lagus.  The  youths  confessed  their  guilt,  and  declared 
that  they  had  been  confirmed  in  their  purpose  by  Callis- 
thenes,  the  scholar  of  Aristotle,  an  arrogant  and  morose 
man,  who,  sheltered  by  the  cloak  of  philosophy,  insolently 
brow-beat  the  prince,  whom  he  was  bound  to  respect 
(Arrian,  p.  871.)  The  conspirators  were  stoned  to  death ; 
a punishment  eommon  in  that  age,  when  persons  accused 
were  tried  before  numerous  assemblies,  whose  indignation 
frequently  burst  forth  and  destroyed  atrocious  offenders  on 
the  spot,  with  the  first  instruments  of  death  that  chance 
offered  to  their  hands.  Callisthenes  was  dragged  round  the 
army  in  chains.  Such  is  the  best  authenticated  account  of 
this  aflfair,  concerning  which  the  variations  of  ancient 
writers  are  innumerable.  Vid.  Arrian,  1.  iv.  c.  xiv.  Curtius, 
1.  viii.  c.  viii.  Seneca  Suasor,  i.  Justin,  1.  xv.  c.  iii.  Phi- 
lostratus,  1.  viii.  c.  i.  Diodor.  Sicul.  pp.  35fi  et  358.  Dio- 
gen.  Laert.  in  Aristot.  Suidos,  ad  voc.  As  an  example  of 
the  injustice  done  the  character  of  Alexander,  I shall  insert 
the  passage  of  Seneca:  “Hoc  est  Alexandri,  crimen  aeter- 
num,  quod  nulla  virtus,  nulla  bcllorum  felicitas  redimet. 
Nam  quoties  qnis  dixerit,  Occidit  Persarum  multa  millia; 
opponitur,  el  Callisthenem.  Quoties  dictum  erit,  omnia 
oceano  tenus  vicit,  ipsam  quoque  tentavit  novis  classibus, 
et  imperiutn  ex  angulo  Thracire  usque  ad  orientis  terminos 

rotulit;  dicetur,  sed  Callisthenem  occidit.”  Yet  this  Cal- 

sthenes  was  a traitor,  whose  writings  are  mentioned  with 
contempt  by  Arrian,  loc.  citat.  Polybius,  t.  ii.  pp.  64.  335. 
et  t.  iii.  p.  45.  Cicero  ad  Quint.  Frat.  1.  ii.  epist.  xiii.  et 
Longinus,  c.  iii.  p.  14.  The  patriotism  of  the  Greeks,  and 
the  envy  of  the  Romans,  could  never  forgive  the  transcen- 
dent glory  of  Alexander,  which  eclipse  their  own.  In 
speaking  of  Philip  and  his  son,  even  Cicero,  (deOffic.)  says, 
“ Alter  semper  magnus,  alter  saepe  turpissimus.”  See  like- 
wise Livy,  1.  ix.  c.  xviii.)  The  last  mentioned  writer  (I.  ix. 
c.  xvii.)  goes  out  of  his  way  to  allege  very  inconclusive  ar- 
guments for  believing,  that  had  Alexander  turned  his  arms 
against  Italy,  he  would  have  certainly  been  conquered  by 
the  Romans. 


[Chap. 

companions  than  subjects.  The  pretensions 
which  sound  policy  taught  him  to  form  and  to 
maintain,  of  being  treated  with  those  external 
honours  ever  claimed  by  the  monarchs  of  the 
East,  highly  offended  the  religious  prejudices 
of  the  Greeks,  who  deemed  it  impious  to  pros- 
trate the  body,  or  bend  the  knee,  to  any  mor- 
tal sovereign.  Yet  had  he  remitted  formalities 
consecrated  by  the  practice  of  ages,  he  must 
insensibly  have  lost  the  respect  of  his  Asiatic 
subjects.  With  a view  to  reconcile  the  dis- 
cordant principles  of  the  victors  and  vanquish- 
ed, he  affected  an  immediate  descent  from  Ju- 
piter Ammon,  a claim  liberally  admitted  by  the 
avarice  or  fears  of  the  Libyan  priests,  and 
which,  he  had  reason  to  expect,  could  not  be 
very  obstinately  denied  by  the  credulity  of  the 
Greeks  and  Macedonians,  who  universally  ac- 
knowledged that  Philip,  his  reputed  father,  was 
remotely  descended  from  the  Grecian  Jupiter. 
But  the  success  of  this  design,  which  might 
have  entitled  him,  as  son  of  Jupiter,  to  the  same 
obeisance  from  the  Greeks,  which  the  Barba- 
rians readily  paid  him  as  monarch  of  the  East, 
was  counteracted,  at  first  by  the  secret  displea- 
sure, and  afterwards  by  the  open  indignation, 
of  several  of  his  generals  and  courtiers.  Nor  did 
the  conduct  of  Alexander  tend  to  extricate  him 
from  this  difficulty.  With  his  friends,  he 
maintained  that  equal  intercourse  of  visits  and 
entertainments,  which  characterised  the  Mace- 
donian manners  ; indulged  the  liberal  flow  of 
unguarded  conversation  ; and  often  exceeded 
that  intemperance  in  wine,  which  disgraced  his 
age  and  country. 

p..  On  such  occasions  his  guests,  or 

cxui  1 • entertainers,  enjoyed  and  abused 
A C 328  ^e  indecent  familiarity  to  which 
they  had  been  accustomed  with 
their  kings  ; but  which  the  temper  of  Alexan- 
der, corrupted  by  prosperity  and  flattery,  was 
no  longer  able  to  endure.  A scene  of  drunken 
debauchery,  which  must  appear  highly  disgust- 
ing to  the  propriety  of  modern  manners,  proved 
fatal  to  Clitus,  who,  emboldened  by  wine,  dar- 
ingly insulted  his  prince,  vilified  his  noblest 
actions,  and  derided  his  pretensions  to  divinity. 
The  king,  being  likewise  intoxicated,  was  no 
longer  master  of  himself,  when  Clitus,  who 
had  been  once  carried  from  his  presence,  re- 
turned a second  time  to  the  charge,  and  be- 
haved more  insolently  than  before.  In  an  un- 
happy moment,  Alexander  thrust  a spear  into 
the  breast  of  his  friend  ;3  but  instantly  repent- 
ing his  fury,  would  have  destroyed  himself 
by  the  same  weapon,  had  he  not  been  prevent- 
ed by  his  attendants.  The  bitterness  of  his  re- 
pentance, and  the  pungency  of  his  remorse, 
which  neither  flattery  could  soften,  nor  so- 
phistry appease,4  rendered  his  life  burdensome. 


3 Montesquieu,  who  (Voltaire  only  excepted)  is  the  most 
distinguished  modern  apologist  of  Alexander,  says,  “II  fit 
deux  mauyaises  actions;  il  brula  Pereepolis  et  tua  Clitus.” 
(Esprit  des  Loix,  1.  x.  c.  xiv.)  The  story  of  the  burning  of 
Persepolis  we  have  already  refuted.  The  death  of  Clitus, 
Aristobulus,  cited  by  Arrian,  ascribes  entirely  to  the  inso- 
lence and  folly  ofClitus  himself,  and  totally  exculpates  Al- 
exander. But  Arrian  observes,  like  a philosopher,  that  Al- 
exander was  justly  blameable  in  allowing  himself  to  be 
overcome  by  drunkenness  and  anger,  p.  84. 

4 Agis,  an  Argive  poet,  and  Anaxarchus  the  Sophist, 
endeavoured  to  cure  his  melancholy.  The  latter  told  him, 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


461 


XXXIX.] 

and  his  actions  inconsistent.  At  times,  he  as- 
sumed the  Persian  dress  and  ornaments;  dis- 
played the  pomp  of  Oriental  despotism  ; em- 
ployed, and  often  preferred,  the  Barbarians; 
and,  in  several  passages  of  his  reign,  this  suc- 
cessful, but  unhappy,  conqueror  appears  to 
have  been  beset  with  flatterers,  surrounded  by 
conspirators,  adored  by  the  passive  submission 
of  his  eastern  subjects,  and  insulted  by  the  li- 
centious petulance  of  the  Greeks  and  Macedo- 
nians. 

The  indignation  or  jealousy  of  the  latter 
tinged  the  fairest  of  his  actions  with  dark  and 
odious  colours.  About  a year  before  his  death, 
a scene  was  transacted  at  Opis  on  the  Tigris, 
which  shows  the  difficulties  of  his  situation, 
and  the  magnanimity  by  which  he  overcame 
them.  Having  assembled  the  Macedonian 
troops,  he  declared  to  them  his  pleasure,  that 
such  as  felt  themselves  unable,  through  age  or 
infirmities,  to  undergo  the  fatigues  of  war, 
should  be  honourably  discharged  from  the  ser- 
vice, and  safely  conducted  to  their  respective 
provinces.  This  proposal,  which  ought  to  have 
been  accepted  with  gratitude,  was  heard  with 
disgust.  The  soldiers  reflected,  that  the  army 
had  recently  increased  by  an  accession  of  thirty 
thousand  Barbarians,  armed  and  accoutred 
after  the  European  fashion,  trained  to  the  Gre- 
cian discipline  and  exercises,  and  instructed  in 
the  arts  and  language  of  the  victors.  The  king, 
they  thought,  no  longer  cared  for  the  service  of 
his  veterans,  and  therefore  dismissed  them  with 
contempt.  The  spirit  of  sedition  seized  the 
camp ; the Macedoniansunanimously  demanded 
their  discharge ; some  adding  with  scoffs,  w That 
he  had  no  further  use  for  them  ; his  father  Am- 
mon could  fight  his  battles.”  At  these  words, 
the  king  sprung  from  the  rostrum  on  which  he 
stood,  and  commanded  the  most  audacious  to 
be  seized  by  his  targeteers,  and  conducted  to 
immediate  execution.  This  prompt  severity 
appeased  the  rising  tumult.  The  soldiers  re- 
mained motionless  and  silent,  doubtful  or  terri- 
fied. Alexander  again  mounted  the  rostrum, 
and  spoke  as  follows  : “ It  is  not  my  design, 
Macedonians,  to  change  your  resolution.  Re- 
turn home,  without  hinderance  from  me.  But, 
before  leaving  the  camp,  first  learn  to  know 
your  king  and  yourselves.  My  father  Philip 
(for  with  him  it  is  ever  fit  to  begin)  found  you, 
at  his  arrival  in  Macedon,  miserable  and  hope- 
less fugitives ; covered  with  skins  of  sheep  ; 
feeding  among  the  mountains  some  wretched 
herds,  which  you  had  neither  strength  nor 
courage  to  defend  against  the  Thracians,  Illy- 
rians, and  Treballi.  Having  repelled  the  rava- 
gers  of  your  country,  he  brought  you  from  the 
mountains  to  the  plain,  and  taught  you  to  con- 
fide, not  in  your  fastnesses,  but  in  your  valour. 
By  his  wisdom  and  discipline  he  trained  you 
to  arts  and  civility,  enriched  you  with  mines  of 
gold,  instructed  you  in  navigation  and  com- 
merce, and  rendered  you  a terror  to  those  na- 


thnt  Justice  was  described  by  the  ancients  as  seated  near 
the  throne  of  Jupiter,  to  indicate  that  right  and  wrong  de- 
pended on  the  will  of  kings,  all  whose  actions  ought  to  be 
held  just  by  themselves  and  others.  This  flagitious  servility 
Arrian  spurns  with  indignation,  and  brands  with  infamy. 
Arrian,  p.  84. 


tions,  at  whose  names  you  used  to  tremble. 
Need  I mention  his  conquests  in  Upper  Thrace, 
or  those  still  more  valuable  in  the  maritime  pro- 
vinces of  that  country  ? Having  opened  the 
gates  of  Greece,  he  chastised  the  Phocians,  re- 
duced the  Thessalians,  and,  while  1 shared  the 
command,  defeated  and  humbled  the  Athenians 
and  Thebans,  eternal  foes  to  Macedon,  to  whom 
you  had  been  successively  tributaries,  subjects, 
and  slaves.  But  my  father  rendered  you  their 
masters  ; and  having  entered  the  Peloponnesus, 
and  regulated  at  discretion  the  affairs  of  that 
peninsula,  he  was  appointed,  by  universal  con- 
sent, general  of  combined  Greece  ; an  appoint- 
ment not  more  honourable  to  himself,  than  glo- 
rious for  his  country.  At  my  accession  to  the 
throne,  I found  a debt  of  five  hundred  talents, 
and  scarce  sixty  in  the  treasury.  I contracted  a 
fresh  debt  of  eight  hundred  ; and  conducting 
you  from  Macedon,  whose  boundaries  seemed 
unworthy  to  confine  y'ou,  safely  crossed  the 
Hellespont,  though  the  Persians  still  command- 
ed the  sea.  By  one  victory  we  gained  Ionia, 
iEolia,  both  Phrygias,  and  Lydia.  By  our 
courage  and  activity,  the  provinces  of  Cilicia 
and  Syria,  the  strength  of  Palestine,  the  anti- 
quity of  Egypt,  and  the  renown  of  Persia,  were 
added  to  your  empire.  Yours  now  are  Bactria 
and  Aria,  the  productions  of  India,  the  fertility 
of  Assyria,  the  wealth  of  Susa,  and  the  won- 
ders of  Babylon.  You  are  generals,  princes, 
satraps.  What  have  I reserved  for  myself,  but 
this  purple  and  diadem,  which  mark  my  pre- 
eminence in  toil  and  danger  ! Where  are  my 
private  treasures  ?5  Or  why  should  I collect 
them  ? Are  my  pleasures  expensive  ? You 
know  that  l fare  worse  than  many  of  yourselves ; 
and  have  in  nothing  spared  my  person.  Let 
him,  who  dares,  compare  with  me.  Let  him 
bare  his  breast,  and  I will  bare  mine.  My 
body,  the  fore  part  of  my  body,  is  covered  with 
honourable  wounds  from  every  sort  of  weapon. 
I often  watch,  that  you  may  enjoy  repose  ; and, 
to  testify  my  unremitting  attention  to  your 
happiness,  had  determined  to  send  home  the 
aged  and  infirm  among  you,  loaded  with  wealth 
and  honour.  7But.  since  you  are  all  desirous  to 
leave  me,  Go  ! Report  to  your  countrymen, 
that,  unmindful  of  the  signal  bounty  of  your 
king,  you  entrusted  him  to  the  vanquished  Bar- 
barians. The  report,  doubtless,  will  bespeak 
your  gratitude  and  piety.”6 

Having  thus  spoken,  he  sprung 
cxiii  4 frorn  the  rostrum,  and  hastened  to 
A C 325  Pa^ace’  accompanied  only  by 

his  guards.  During  two  days,  none 
were  admitted  to  his  presence.  On  the  third, 
he  called  the  Persian  nobles  of  distinction,  and 
distributed  among  them  the  principal  depart- 
ments of  military  command.  He  then  issued 
orders,  that  certain  bodies  of  the  Barbarian  in- 
fantry and  cavalry  should  be  called  the  royal 
battalion,  and  royal  cohort,  and  by  such  other 
names  as  commanded  greatest  respect.  Ap- 


5 Tl.  nppenrs  from  Arrian,  that  Alexander  speaks  of  these, 
ns  distinct  from  the  military  fund,  and  other  revenues,  em 
ployed  in  paving  and  rewarding  his  tronp3,  and  in  executing 
such  public  designs  as  seemed  conducive  to  the  prosperity 
of  the  empire. 

6 Arrian,  p.  152  et  seq. 


462 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


prised  of  these  innovations,  the  Macedonians, 
who  had  long  remained  in  confusion  before  the 
tribunal,  afraid  to  follow  Alexander,  and  afraid 
to  allow  his  retiring  unattended,  flocked  around 
the  palace,  and  deposited  their  arms  at  the  gate, 
humbly  requesting  to  see  their  king,  and  de- 
claring that  they  would  never  stir  from  the 
place,  till  their  tears  had  moved  his  compassion. 
Alexander  came  forth,  beheld  their  abasement, 
and  wept.  The  affecting  silence,  marked  by 
alternate  emotions  of  repentance  and  reconci- 
liation, was  at  length  broke  by  Callines,  a man 
highly  esteemed  in  the  cavalry : “ Thy  Mace- 
donians, O king!  are  grieved  that  the  Persians 
alone  should  be  called  thy  kindred,  and  entitled 
as  such  to  embrace  thee,  while  none  of  them- 
selves are  allowed  to  taste  that  honour.”1  Al- 
exander replied,  “ From  this  moment  you  are 
all  my  kindred.”  Callines  then  stepped  for- 
ward and  embraced  him ; and  several  others 
having  followed  the  example,  they  all  took  up 
their  arms,  and  returned  to  the  camp  with 
shouts  of  joy,  and  songs. 

Of  all  men  (if  we  believe  the  concurring  tes- 
timony of  his  historians)  Alexander  was  the 
most  mindful  of  his  duty  to  the  gods.  To  thank 
neaven  for  the  happy  issue  of  this  transaction, 
be  celebrated  a solemn  sacrifice,  and  after  the 
sacrifice,  an  entertainment  for  the  principal  of 
his  European  and  Asiatic  subjects.  The  Mace- 
donians were  next  to  his  person  ; the  Persians 
next  the  Macedonians  ; the  Grecian  priests  and 
Persian  magi  joined  in  common  libations,  in- 
voking perpetual  concord,  and  eternal  union  of 
empire,  to  the  Macedonians  and  Persians.  Soon 
afterwards,  the  invalids,  whose  dismission  had 
produced  the  mutiny,  gladly  returned  home. 
Alexander  discharged  their  arrears,  allowed 
them  full  pay  until  their  arrival  in  Macedon, 
and  granted  each  soldier  a gratuity  of  two  hun- 
dred pounds  sterling.  He  again  shed  tears  at 
parting  with  upwards  of  ten  thousand  men, 
who  had  served  him  in  so  many  glorious  cam- 
paigns ; and,  as  a testimony  of  his  affectionate 
concern  for  their  safety,  appointed  Craterus, 
whom  he  loved  as  his  own  life,2  to  be  their  con- 
ductor. 

Such  was  the  life  of  this  extraordinary  man, 
whose  genius  might  have  changed  and  improved 
the  state  of  the  ancient  world.  But  the  spirit 
of  improvement  is  transient,  and  demands  per- 
petual efforts  ; the  sources  of  degeneracy  are 
permanent  and  innumerable.  It  seems  at  first 
sight  to  be  regretted,  that  by  neglecting  to  pro- 
vide for  the  succession  to  his  throne,  he  left  the 
field  open  for  those  bloody  wars  among  his  cap- 
tains, which  long  desolated  the  earth.  Yet  the 
difficulties,  with  which  he  was  himself  obliged 
to  struggle,  might  teach  him  the  impossibility 
of  securing  the  empire  for  the  infancy  of  his 
son  Hercules,  or  the  weakness  of  his  brother 
Aridaeus.  The  principles  of  royal  succession 
were  never  accurately  ascertained  in  Macedon; 
and  the  camp  of  a conqueror  could  not  be  ex- 
pected to  prove  a good  school  of  moderation  or 
justice.  The  first  measure  adopted  by  his 


1 Arrian  says,  “ While  none  of  themselves  ever  tasted 

that  honour. ” MxxiJovtov  oust*  r*s  yiytvrxi  ms 

rims.  Arrian,  p.  154. 

2 Arrian,  p.  135. 


[Chap. 

generals  was,  to  set  aside  the  natural  claim  of 
Hercules,  born  of  the  daughter  of  Darius,  and 
to  appoint  Aridseus,  together  with  the  fruit  of 
Roxana’s  pregnancy,  if  she  broughFforth  a son, 
to  be  joint  heirs  of  the  monarchy.  This  whim- 
sical destination  announced  little  union  or  sta- 
bility. Perdiccas,  in  virtue  of  possessing  the 
ring  or  seal  of  his  deceased  master,  assumed  the 
regency:  the  troops  and  provinces  were  divided 
among  Antigonus,  Ptolemy,  Craterus,  and 
other  chiefs,  who,  having  been  formerly  the 
equals,  disdained  to  remain  the  inferiors,  of 
Perdiccas.  Each  general  trusted  in  his  sword 
for  an  independent  establishment ; new  troops 
were  raised  and  disciplined;  leagues  formed 
and  broken ; the  children  and  relations  of 
Alexander,  who  became  successively  prisoners 
in  different  hands,  all  perished  miserably  ; nor 
was  there  any  cessation  of  crimes  and  calami- 
ties,3 or  any  permanent  settlement  of  the  pro- 
A C ^01  vincesi  until  the  battle  of  Issus  in 
Phrygia  confirmed  Ptolemy  in  the 
possession  of  Egypt,  and  • Seleucus  in  that  of 
Upper  Asia.4  'The  issue  of  the  same  battle 
gave  Macedon  and  Greece  to  Cassander,  and 
Thrace,  with  several  provinces  of  Lower  Asia, 
to  Lysimachus. 

The  great  kingdoms  of  Syria  and  Egypt, 
which  continued  thenceforward,  till  subdued 
by  the  Romans,  to  be  governed  by  the  respec- 
tive families  of  Seleucus  and  Ptolemy,  never 
generally5  adopted  the  language  or  manners  of 
their  Grecian  sovereigns.  In  Egypt,  the  first 
successors  of  Alexander  accomplished  the  com- 
mercial improvements  planned  by  that  prince  ; 
and  the  kings  both  of  Egypt  and  of  Syria  af- 
fected, in  their  magnificent  courts,  to  join  the 
arts  and  elegance  of  Greece  to  the  pomp  and 
luxury  of  the  East.  But  their  ostentation  was 
more  remarkable  than  their  taste  ; their  liberal 
characters  were  effaced  by  the  continual  con- 
tact of  servitude  ; they  sunk  into  the  softness 
and  insignificance  of  hereditary  despots,  whose 
reigns  are  neither  busy  nor  instructive  ; nor 
could  the  intrigues  of  women  and  eunuchs,  or 
ministers  equally  effeminate,  form  a subject 
sufficiently  interesting  to  succeed  the  memora- 
ble transactions  of  the  Grecian  republics. 

In  the  history  of  those  kingdoms,  the  most 
important  event  is  their  conquest  by  the  Ro- 
mans, who  gradually  seized  all  the  western 
spoils  of  the  empire  of  Alexander,  compre- 
hended between  the  Euphrates  and  the  Hadri- 


3 Diodor.  Sicul.  I.  xix.  et  xx.  passim. 

A Arrian,  pp.  160.  et  164. 

5 Yet  among  the  higher  ranks  of  men,  the  Greek  lan- 
guage continually  gained  ground.  Before  the  Christian  era, 
it  was  spoken  by  Jews,  Romans,  and  Africans.  It  was  the 
language  of  the  learned  and  polite  in  Egypt  and  Syria,  as 
well  as  in  Italy  and  Carthage.  It  must  have  been  under- 
stood bv  all  ranks  of  men  in  Judea,  since  the  inspired  wri- 
ters employed  it  in  propagating  the  gospel,  which  was  to  be 
first  preached  to  the  Jews.  For  this  universality,  the  Greek 
seems  to  have  been  indebted,  1.  To  the  innumerable  Greek 
colonies  in  Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa.  2.  To  the  conquests 
of  Alexander,  whose  armies  and  garrisons  were  continua'ly 
reinforced  from  Greece.  3.  To  the  social  and  agreeable 
character  of  the  Greeks.  4.  To  the  excellence  of  the  lan- 
guage itself  (see  above,  chapters  v.  and  6.)  whose  duration 
is  as  wonderful  as  its  extent.  The  Greek  was  spoken  in 
the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  centurv,  when  Constantinople 
was  taken  by  the  Turks:  so  that,  from  the  time  of  Homer, 
it  subsisted  with  little  variation,  as  a living  tongue  for  two 
thousand  and  four  hundred  years. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


463 


XL.] 

atic  sea,  and  successively  reduced  them  into 
the  form  of  provinces.  Greece,  which  came 
to  be  distinguished  by  the  name  of  Achaia,  im- 
parted its  literature,  its  arts,6  and  its  vices,  to 
Italy.  The  conquest  of  Macedon  freed  Rome 
from  the  weight  of  taxes.  The  acquisition  of 
Syria  doubled  the  revenues  of  that  republic. 
The  subjugation  of  Egypt  doubled  the  price  of 
commodities  in  Italy.  Yet  whatever  might  be 
the  wealth7 8  of  those  nations,  they  are  entitled 
to  little  regard  from  posterity,  since,  from  the 
death  of  Alexander,  they  were  not  distinguished 
by  any  invention  that  either  improved  the  prac- 
tice of  war,  or  increased  the  enjoyments  of  peace. 

The  feeble  mixture  of  Grecian  colonization 
diffused  through  the  East,  was  sufficient,  in- 
deed, to  tinge,  but  too  inconsiderable  to  alter 
and  assimilate,  the  vast  mass  of  barbarism. 
But  as  the  principle  of  degeneracy  is  often 
stronger  than  that  of  improvement,  the  sloth 
and  servility  of  Asia  gradually  crept  into 
Greece.  That  unfortunate  country,  drained 
of  its  most  enterprising  inhabitants,  who  either 
followed  the  standard,  or  opposed  the  arms,  of 
Alexander,  was  equally  insulted  by  the  severity 
and  the  indulgence  of  his  successors,  since,  in 
either  case,  the  Greeks  felt  and  acknowledged 
their  dependence.  Reluctantly  compelled  to 
submit  to  a master,  they  lost  that  elevation  of 


character,  and  that  enthusiasm  of  valour,  which 
had  been  produced  by  freedom,  nourished  by 
victory,  and  confirmed  by  the  just  sense  of  na- 
tional pre-eminence.  Their  domestic  dissen- 
sions, by  carrying  them  in  great  numbers  *nto 
the  service  of  foreign  princes,  thereby  diffused 
the  knowledge  of  their  tactics  and  discipline 
through  countries  far  more  extensive  and  po- 
pulous than  their  own  ; and  amidst  all  their 
personal  animosities,  the  captains  of  Alexan- 
der, uniformly  embracing  the  maxims  of  des- 
potism which  their  master  magnanimously  dis- 
dained, firmly  and  unitedly  resisted  and  crushed 
the  rising  rebellions  of  the  Greeks,  whose  feeble 
and  ill-conducted  efforts  for  regaining  their 
liberty,  only  plunged  them  deeper  into  servi- 
tude. Destitute  of  immediate  and  important 
objects  to  rouse  their  activity,  the  example  of 
their  ancestors  at  length  ceased  to  animate  and 
inspire  them.  The  rewards  of  merit  being 
withdrawn,  men  no  longer  aspired  at  excel- 
lence. The  spirit  of  patriotism  evaporated  ; the 
fire  of  genius  was  extinguished  ; exertion  pe- 
rished with  hope ; and,  exclusively  of  the 
Achaean  League,9 10  the  unfortunate  issue  of 
which  has  been  already  explained  in  this  work,19 
Greece,  from  the  age  of  Alexander,  offers  not 
any  series  of  transactions  highly  memorable  in 
the  history  of  arts  or  arms. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

State  of  Literature  in  the  Age  of  Alexander — Poetry — Music — Arts  of  Design — Geography- 
Astronomy — Natural  History — Works  of  Aristotle — Philosophical  Sects  established  at  Athens 
— Decline  of  Genius — Tenets  of  the  different  Sects — Peripatetic  Philosophy — Estimate  of  that 
Philosophy — Its  Fate  in  the  World — Coincidence  in  the  Opinions  of  Zeno  and  Epicurus — 
The  Stoic  Philosophy — Estimate  of  that  Philosophy — The  Epicurean  Philosophy — Character 
of  Epicurus — Philosophy  of  Pyrrho — Conclusion. 


TN  the  latter  years  of  Alexander,  literature, 
philosophy,  and  the  fine  arts,  displayed  their 
brightest  charms  ; yet  the  source  of  that  health 
and  vigour,  from  which  their  beauty  flowed, 
had  already  begun  to  fail.  The  military  expe- 
ditions of  that  illustrious  conqueror  were  de- 
scribed, and  published  after  his  death,  in  the 
authentic  and  interesting  narratives  of  Ptolemy 
and  Aristobulus,19  who  had  been  the  witnesses 


6 Notwithstanding  the  degeneracy  of  the  Greeks  under 
the  Macedonian  and  Roman  governments,  their  country, 
and  particularly  Athens,  was  long  regarded  as  the  principal 
scat  of  arts  and  philosophy.  But  the  Greek  artists,  as  well 
as  poets,  orators,  historians,  and  philosophers,  of  later 
times,  were  mere  imitators,  who  fell  infinitely  short  of  the 
merit  and  fame  of  the  great  originals.  The  work*  of  Phi- 
dias and  Apelles,  of  Sophocles,  Demosthenes,  Plato,  &c. 
not  those  of  the  Greeks  their  own  contemporaries,  were  the 
objects  of  admiration  to  Cicero  and  Seneca,  to  the  writers 
of  the  Augustan  age,  to  Pliny,  Tacitus,  &. c.  But  of  this 
more  in  the  next  chapter. 

7 Of  which  see  an  account  extracted  from  the  public  re- 
gisters, in  Appian.  Alexand.  in  Proem. 

8 The  judicious  Polybius  treats  the  Achaean  league,  and 
other  collateral  transactions  of  the  Greeks  and  Macedo- 
nians, as  episodes  in  his  invaluable  history  of  the  progress 
and  aggrandisement  of  the  Roman  republic. 

9 See  p.  137. 

10  Arrian  in  Proem. 


and  companions  of  his  victories.  But  his  ex- 
traordinary exploits,  and  unexampled  success, 
which  far  eclipsed  the  imaginary  renown  of  the 
fabled  heroes  of  antiquity,  produced,  even  in 
his  life-time,  a crowd  of  writers,  whose  credu- 
lity, and  love  of  the  marvellous,  could  only  be 
exceeded  by  their  mean  adulation,  and  servile 
superstition.11  Exaggeration  in  matters  of  fact 
produced  that  swelling  amplification  of  style, 
those  meretricious  ornaments,  and  affected 
graces,  which  characterized  the  puerile  and 
frigid  compositions  of  Callisthenes,  Onesicritus, 
and  Hegesias.12  The  false  taste  of  these  pre- 
tended historians,  to  whose  perverse  industry 
must  be  ascribed  the  ridiculous  trappings  which 
have  too  long  disfigured  the  august  form  of  Al- 
exander, was  admired  and  imitated  by  many 
of  their  contemporaries.  The  contagion  in- 
fected even  the  orators  ; and  it  is  worthy  of 
observation,,  that  the  verbose  emptiness  and 
bombast  of  the  Asiatic  eloquence,  was  first  in- 
troduced into  Greece,  in  the  age  which  had 
applauded  the  chaste  and  nervous  compositions 

11  Lucian  de  Scribend.  Histor. 

12  Strabo,  1.  xix.  p.  446. 


464 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


of  Lycurgus,  Hyperides,  jEschines,  and  De- 
mosthenes.1 So  true  it  is,  that  in  every  coun- 
try where  the  human  genius  has  attained  its 
highest  point  of  perfection,  a principle  of  de- 
generacy naturally  carries  things  in  a contrary 
direction ; because  those  who  are  incapable  of 
excellence,  still  covet  distinction,  and  despair- 
ing to  equal  their  predecessors  in  the  beauties 
of  truth  and  nature,  have  recourse  to  false  con- 
ceits and  artificial  refinements. 

Under  the  Macedonian  government,  Greece 
produced  not  any  original  genius  in  the  serious 
kinds  of  poetry.  The  tragedies  of  Sophocles 
and  Euripides  still  kept  possession  of  the  thea- 
tre. But  no  lyric,  no  epic  poet  appeared,  capa- 
ble to  adorn  the  exploits  of  Alexander,  though 
that  prince,  intoxicated  with  the  love  of  fame, 
munificently  rewarded  the  ignoble  flattery  of 
Agis,  Cleon,  Chaerilus,  and  other  contemptible 
encomiasts ; who  corrupted  his  heart,  without 
vitiating  his  judgment,  since  he  declared,  that 
he  would  rather  be  the  Thersites  of  Homer, 
than  the  Achilles  of  Chaerilus.1 2  Yet  in  the 
same  age  Philemon,  Antiphanes,3  Lycon,4 
above  all,  the  Athenian  Menander,  carried  co- 
medy to  the  highest  perfection  which  it  ever 
attained  in  any  nation  of  antiquity.  During 
the  republican  form  of  government,  the  insti- 
tutions and  character  of  the  Greeks  were  ex- 
tremely unfavourable  to  this  species  of  writing. 
The  licentious  turbulence  of  democracy  gene- 
rally converted  their  attempts  at  wit  and  hu- 
mour into  petulance  and  buffoonery.  The 
change  of  government  and  manners,  requiring 
due  respect  to  the  rules  of  propriety  and  the 
dictates  of  caution,  improved  their  discern- 
ment, and  gradually  made  them  sensible  to  that 
refined  ridicule,  where  more  is  meant  than  said, 
and  to  those  more  interesting,  because  juster, 
delineations  of  character,  which  distinguished 
the  comic  strains  of  Philemon  and  Menander.5 

Alexander,  during  his  early  youth,  took  de- 
light in  dramatic  entertainments.  Thessalus 
was  his  favourite  actor,  but  Athenadorus  was 
more  approved  by  the  public.  To  Athenadorus, 
the  magistrates,  who,  according  to  the  Grecian 
custom,  were  appointed  to  decide  the  preten- 
' sions  of  rival  candidates  for  theatrical  fame, 
adjudged  the  prize  of  merit.  The  young  hero 
declared,  that  this  decision  gave  him  more  pain 
than  he  would  have  felt  at  the  loss  of  his  in- 
heritance.6 The  musicians  Timotheus7  and 
Antigenides8 9  still  displayed  the  wonderful  ef- 
fects of  their  art ; but  as  the  severity  of  edu- 
cation and  manners  continually  relaxed  in  all 
parts  of  Greece,  we  find  that  music,  originally 
destined  to  purify  and  exalt  the  mind,  was  in 
latter  times  universally  employed  to  seduce 
and  inflame  the  passions.2 

The  arts  of  design,  painting,  sculpture,  and 
architecture,  appeared  in  their  highest  lustre  in 


1 Dionys.  Halicarn.  de  Structura  Oration.  Longinus 
de  Sublim.  Cicero  de  Orator,  et  de  Clar.  Orator,  passim. 

2 Aero,  ad  Horat.  Art.  Poet.  v.  357.  Curtius,  I.  viii.  c.  v. 

3 Athenaeus,  1.  xiii.  p.  555. 

4 Plut.  Orat.  ii.  de  Fortun.  Alexand. 

5 Vid.  Plut.  Comp.  Aristoph.  et  Menand. 

€ Plut.  Orat.  ii.  de  Fortun.  Alexand. 

7 Hephaest.  de  Metr. 

8 Plut.  Orat.  de  Fortun.  Alexand. 

9 Aristot.  Politic.  1.  viii.  c.  vi. 


[Chap. 

the  age  of  Philip  and  Alexander,  both  which 
princes  had  no  less  taste  to  judge,16  than  muni- 
ficence to  reward  them.  The  eastern  expedi- 
tion of  the  latter  introduced,  or  at  least  greatly 
multiplied,  in  Greece,  those  precious  and  dura- 
ble gems,  which  thenceforth  exhibited  some  of 
the  finest  specimens  of  Grecian  ingenuity. 
The  skill  and  taste  of  Pyrgoteles  were  distin- 
guished in  this  valuable,  though  minute  art.11 
He  enjoyed  the  exclusive  honour  of  represent- 
ing the  figure  of  Alexander  on  gems,  as  did 
Lysippus  of  casting  it  in  bronze,  and  Apelles 
of  painting  it  in  colours.12  Lysippus  was  justly 
admired  for  bringing  back  the  art  to  a closer 
study,  and  nearer  imitation,  of  nature,  without 
yielding  to  his  predecessors  in  ideal  beauty.13 
We  have  already  mentioned  his  twenty-one 
equestrian  statues  of  the  Macedonian  guards, 
slain  in  the  battle  of  the  Granicus.  He  is  said 
to  have  made  six  hundred  and  ten  figures  in 
bronze  ;14  a number  which,  if  hot  greatly  ex- 
aggerated, would  prove  his  facility  of  working 
to  have  far  surpassed  that  of  all  statuaries,  an- 
cient or  modern.  The  numerous  list  of  paint- 
ers, contemporary  with  Apelles,  indicates  an 
extraordinary  demand  for  their  art ; since  no 
profession,  that  is  not  gainful,  will  ever  be  very 
generally  followed.15  The  most  celebrated  of 
these  artists  were  Amphion  and  Asclepiodorus,16 
whom  Apelles  acknowledged  as  his  superiors 
in  some  parts  of  composition  ; Aristides  the 
Theban,  who  was  inimitable  in  expression  ;17 
and  Protogenes  of  Rhodes,  whom  Aristotle  ex- 
horted to  paint  the  immortal  exploits  of  Alex- 
ander.18 The  inferior  branches  of  the  art,  if 
not  first  cultivated  in  that  age,  were  then  car- 
ried to  perfection.  Pyreicus12  confined  him- 
self to  subjects  of  low  life,  and  Antiphilus26  to 
caricatures,  which  the  Greeks  called  Grylli. 
The  theory  and  practice  of  painting  was  ex- 
plained in  many  works,  the  loss  of  which  is 
much  to  be  regretted!21 

Amidst  the  great  multitude  of  artists,  and 
writers  on  art,  all  acknowledged  the  pre-emi- 
nence of  Apelles,  whose  works  were  innumera- 
ble, and  each  sufficient  to  establish  his  fame.22 
His  picture  of  Alexander,  grasping  a thunder- 
bolt, was  sold  to  the  temple  of  Ephesian  Diana 
for  four  thousand  pounds.  His  Venus  Ana- 
dyomene  was  damaged  by  accident ; none  would 
venture  to  restore  the  parts  that  had  been  effac- 
ed : so  that  the  injury  of  the  picture  contributed 
to  the  glory  of  the  artist.  The  model  of  this 
Venus  was  the  beautiful  Campaspe,  the  favour- 
ite mistress  of  Alexander.  The  sensibility  of 
Apelles  was  too  deeply  penetrated  with  the 
charms  which  he  so  successfully  expressed. 


10  Judicium  subtile  videDdis,  artibus.  Her.  Ep.  1.  ii.  Ep. 
i.  v.  242. 

11  Plin.  1.  vii.  c.  xxxvii.  et  Plutarch,  in  Alexand. 

12  Vid.  Plin.  edit.  Berolin.  i.  221.  iii.  217—228. 

13  Plin.  iii.  194,  et  seq. 

14  The  Sieur  Falconet,  who  made  the  famous  statue  of 
Peter  the  Great,  thinks  the  thin®  impossible,  and  gives  a 
different  meaning  to  the  words  of  Pliny.  See  his  observa- 
tions on  the  passage,  in  his  translation  of  the  books  of 
Pliny  relative  to  the  arts.  Vol.  ii.  Lausanne. 

15  Plin.  iii.  222.  16  Idem,  iii.  226. 

17  Idem,  iii.  215—225. 

18  He  exhorted  him  to  paint  them  “ propter  eternitatem 
rerum.”  Plin.  ibid. 

19  Plin.  iii.  236.  20  Idem,  iii.  229. 

21  Idem,  ibid.  22  Plin.  iii.  222, et  seq. 


5 


XL.] 

Alexander  was  no  sooner  acquainted  with  his 
passion,  than,  in  the  language  of  Pliny,  he 
made  him  a present,  not  only  of  Campaspe,  but 
of  his  own  affection,  too  little  respecting  the 
feelings  of  the  beloved  object,  at  her  degradation 
from  being  the  mistress  of  a king,  to  become  the 
possession  of  a painter.  Yet  this  celebrated 
artist,  who  enjoyed  other  striking  proofs  of  his 
master’s  partiality  and  friendship,  lived  on  good 
terms  with  his  brethren.  With  the  frankness 
of  his  age  and  nation,  he  assumed  the  merit 
which  belonged  to  him,  and  freely  asserted,  that 
none  of  his  competitors  could  imitate  the  grace- 
fulness23 of  his  attitudes  and  figures.  But  in 
some  other  branches  of  the  art,  he  acknowledg- 
ed himself  inferior  to  several  of  his  contempo- 
raries. The  desire  of  seeing  the  works  of  Pro- 
togenes carried  him  to  Rhodes.  He  there  found 
a rival  not  altogether  unworthy  to  alarm  his 
jealousy.  But  instead  of  yielding  to  the  dic- 
tates of  this  unworthy  passion,  he  drew  Proto- 
genes from  obscurity  ; raised  the  price  of  his 
pictures ; and  taught  the  Rhodians,  who  under- 
valued the  same  talents  in  their  fellow  citizen, 
which  they  admired  in  a stranger,  to  acknow- 
ledge and  respect  his  merit.24 

Soon  after  the  death  of  Alexander,  painting 
and  the  kindred  arts  ceased.25  By  this  expres- 
sion, Pliny  means  not,  that  they  ceased  to  be 
cultivated,  but  to  make  farther  progress ; since 
neither  the  scholars  of  Apelles  and  Lysippus, 
nor  those  who  came  after  them,  were  capable  to 
reach  the  glory  of  their  predecessors.  The 
Greek  kings  of  Egypt  and  Syria  seem  to  have 
bent  their  attention  rather  to  literature,  than  to 
the  arts.  But,  in  both,  the  schools  of  Alexandria 
and  Seleucia  never  aspired  beyond  the  humble 
merit  of  imperfectly  imitating  those  of  Greece. 
In  proportion  to  its  neighbourhood  to  that  coun- 
try, the  arts  took  firmer  root  in  Alexandria 
than  in  Seleucia;  and,  from  the  same  circum- 
stance, they  seem  to  have  flourished  longer  and 
more  abundantly  in  the  little  principalities  of 
Pergamus  and  Bithynia,  than  in  the  wealthy 
kingdoms  of  Syria  and  Egypt.26 

The  expedition  of  Alexander  contributed  to 
the  improvement  of  the  sciences,  both  natural 
and  moral.  His  marches  were  carefully  mea- 
sured by  Diognetes  and  Beton.  Other  geome- 
ters27 were  employed  to  survey  the  more  re- 
mote parts  of  the  countries  which  he  traversed; 
and  the  exact  description  of  his  conquests, 
which,  from  these  and  other  materials,  he  took 
care  to  have  compiled  by  men  of  approved  in- 
tegrity and  abilities,  gave  a new  form  to  the 
science  of  geography.28 

After  the  conquest  of  Babylon,  Alexander 
eagerly  demanded  the  astronomical  observa- 
tions, which  had  been  carefully  preserved  in 
that  ancient  capital  above  nineteen  centuries. 
They  remounted  twenty-two  hundred  and 


23  “ Deesse  iis  onam  VeneremdicebatquamCr;pci  charita 
vocant;  cetera  omnia  contigisse ; sed  hacsolisibi  neminem 
parem.”  Plin.  iii.  222,  et  seq. 

24  Plin.  ibid. 

25  “ Oes«avit  deintle  ars.”  Plin.  ibid. 

2fl  Winkelmann,  Geschichte  der  Kun3t  des  Alterthums, 
p.  71 1,  et  seq. 

27  Strabo,  1.  ii  p.  47. 

28  Cassini  sur  I’Origine  de  PAstronomie,  &c.  Academ. 
des  Sciences,  t.  viii.  p.  13. 

3 N 


465 

thirty-four  years  beyond  the  Christian  sera.  By 
order  of  Alexander,  they  were  faithfully  tran- 
scribed, and  transmitted  to  Aristotle,29  who 
was  probably  prevented  by  his  infirm  state  of 
health  from  accompanying  his  pupil  to  the 
East ; or  who,  perhaps,  voluntarily  preferred  a 
philosophical  retirement  in  Athens,  to  the  glory 
of  attending  the  conqueror  of  the  world. 

Nor  was  this  the  only  present  to  his  preceptor, 
by  which  Alexander  displayed  at  once  his  grati- 
tude and  love  of  science.  Natural  history  was 
peculiarly  indebted  to  his  curiosity  and  munifi- 
cence. At  the  expense  of  near  two  hundred 
thousand  pounds,  an  expense  equivalent  to  d.  far 
larger  sum  in  the  present  age,  he  collected  many 
rare  productions  of  nature  in  different  countries 
of  Asia,  and  particularly  that  amazing  variety 
of  animals,36  which  Aristotle  has  described 
with  such  inimitable  precision31  in  his  work  on 
that  subject. 

But  whatever  obligations  natural  knowledge 
owed  to  Alexander,  it  would  seem  that  the  mo- 
ral sciences  were  not  less  benefited  by  his  dis- 
coveries and  conquests.32  The  study  of  human 
nature  must  have  been  greatly  enlarged  by  such 
a wide  survey  of  manners,  institutions,  and 
usages  ; nor  was  this  advantage,  perhaps,  con- 
fined to  those  who  performed  the  expedition, 
whose  works  have  unfortunately  perished  ; since 
the  moral  and  political  treatises  of  Aristotle 
discover  not  only  more  method  in  his  reason- 
ings, but  a more  copious  fund  of  facts  on  which 
to  reason,  than  the  writings  of  all  his  predeces- 
sors together,  not  excepting  those  of  the  tra- 
vellers, Xenophon  and  Plato. 

The  greatest  part  of  the  works  of  Aristotle 
were  doubtless  composed  before  the  Macedonian 
conquest ; yet  it  is  not  improbable  that  this  ex- 
traordinary man,  whose  industry  was  equal  to 
his  genius,  continually  retouched  and  improved 
them  ; and  it  cannot  be  imagined  that  the  rich 
harvest  of  facts  and  observations  collected  by  his 
learned  friends  who  accompanied  Alexander, 
would  be  overlooked  by  a philosopher,  who 
seems  not  only  ambitious  to  eclipse  his  predeces- 
sors and  contemporaries,  but  solicitous  to  leave 
no  gleanings  of  fame  to  be  acquired  by  his 
scholars  and  successors. 

“ Aristotle,”  says  Lord  Bacon,33  “ thought, 
like  the  Ottoman  princes,  that  he  could  not 
reign  secure,  unless  he  destroyed  all  his  bre- 
thren ;”  nor  was  his  literary  ambition  more  ex- 
clusive than  exorbitant.  He  aspired  to  embrace 
the  whole  circle  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  and 
professed  to  explain  whatever  can  be  known 
concerning  the  moral,  as  well  as  the  material, 
world.  Not  satisfied  with  extending  his  em- 
pire to  the  utmost  verge  of  intellect,  he  boldly 
attempts  questions  beyond  all  human  know- 
ledge, with  the  same  confidence  that  his  pupil 


23  Porplivr.  apud  S'mpTicium,  in  Aristot  doCa-lo,  1.  ii. 

30  Plin.  I.  viii.  c.  xvi. 

31  See  the  admirable  criticism  on  Aristotle’s  History  of 
An’mals,  by  Buffon,  vol.  i. 

32  The  arts  and  sciences  not  only  flourished  in  Alexan- 
der’s time;  they  flourished,  says  Plutarch,  AKe^rtvfgov. 
“ He  was  the  efficient  cause  of  this  effect.”  The  passage 
which  follows,  Kxeirwv  /uiv  yotff  »u<f0£i=er,  &.c.  should  he 
studied  by  all  princes  who  aspire  to  glorv  ; a glory  greater 
than  power  can  give ; more  extensive  and  more  permanent 
than  conquest  can  confer. 

33  D«.  Augm.  Scicntiarum,  1.  iii.  c.  iv. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


466 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


entered  on  a battle.  But  having  to  contend 
with  enemies  more  stubborn  than  the  Persians, 
his  rashness  was  less  successful  than  that  of 
Alexander. 

He  divided  philosophy  into  contemplative 
and  practical.  The  contemplative  or  abstract 
philosophy,  to  which  he  first  gave  the  name  of 
metaphysics,1  is  obscure  throughout,  often  un- 
intelligible, still  more  chimerical,  but  far  less 
agreeable,  than  that  of  his  master  Plato.  It 
comprehended  not  only  the  examination  of  those 
abstract  ideas,  existence , substance , quality,  ge- 
nus, species,  kc.  which  were  so  long  and  so 
uselessly  tortured  by  the  perverse  industry  of 
the  schoolmen,  but  the  general  doctrines  con- 
cerning mind  or  spirit,  particularly  the  mind  of 
the  Deity.  The  human  soul  is  treated  in  a 
separate  work ; in  which  it  must  be  acknow- 
ledged, that  Aristotle  has  made  new  names, 
rather  than  new  discoveries  ; and  the  doctrine 
of  the  immortality  is  no  where  so  fully  eluci- 
dated by  this  philosopher,  as  it  had  been  by 
Plato. 

The  natural  philosophy  of  Aristotle  deserves 
the  name  of  metaphysic,  in  the  modern  sense 
of  that  word,  since  he  explained  the  laws  of  the 
universe,  by  comparing  abstract  ideas,  not  by 
observation  and  experience.  When  he  descends 
to  particulars,  he  betrays  more  ignorance  con- 
cerning the  motions  and  magnitudes  of  the 
heavenly  bodies,  than  many  of  his  predecessors. 
With  the  anatomy  of  man  and  other  animals, 
he  was  well  acquainted,  considering  the  gross 
errors  which  generally  prevailed  in  the  age  in 
which  he  lived.  Chemistry  was  not  yet  invent- 
ed. Since  the  introduction  of  the  ideal  philo- 
sophy, men  had  ceased  to  observe  nature  ; it 
could  not  therefore  be  expected  that  they  should 
imitate  her  operations,  and  examine  her  by  the 
test  of  experiment.  In  mathematics,  Aristotle 
appears  to  have  been  less  versed  than  his  pre- 
decessors, Pythagoras  and  Plato  ; although,  in 
the  invention  of  the  art  of  syllogism,  he  dis- 
plays a perseverance  of  mental  energy,  which, 
had  it  been  directed  to  the  mathematical 
sciences,  might  have  produced  the  greatest 
discoveries. 

The  scepticism  of  his  contemporary  Pyrrho, 
and  still  more  the  captious  sophistry  of  the 
Eristics,  might  naturally  engage  Aristotle  to 
examine  with  more  attention  than  his  prede- 
cessors, the  nature  of  truth,  and  the  means  of 
defending  it  against  the  attacks  of  declamation 
and  the  snares  of  subtlety.  He  undertook, 
therefore,  the  arduous  task,  of  resolving  all  rea- 


1  Bv  some  writers  it  is  supposed,  that  this  title  was  be- 
stowed on  the  fourteen  books  of  Aristotle,  immediately  fol- 
lowing his  Physics,  by  Andronicus  of  Rhodes,  a Peripatetic 
philosopher  in  the  age  of  Augustus,  who  published  the  first 
complete  edition  of  Aristotle’s  works.  From  that  time,  the 
various  subjects  treated  in  these  fourteen  books  were  con- 
ceived as  constituting  one  branch  of  science.  Aristotle  had 
divided  philosophy  into  speculative  and  practical.  The  first 
comprehended  metaphysics,  which  examined  the  general 
properties  of  being,  and  the  essence  of  things  separate  from 
matter;  physics,  which  examined  the  nature  of  material 
substances,  and  the  human  soul ; and  mathematics,  which 
examined  certain  properties  of  body,  abstracted  from  body. 
The  practical  philosophy  of  Aristotle,  which  was  intended 
to  regulate  the  intellectual  and  moral  operations  of  men, 
comnrehended  logic,  under  which  he  seems  to  have  included 
rhetoric  and  criticism;  and  morals,  including  economics 
and  politics.  See  Strabo,  p.  609  ; and  Bayle’s  Dictionary, 
article  Tyrannion. 


[Chap. 

soning  into  its  primary  elements,  and  of  de- 
ducing from  thence  the  rules  by  which  every 
conclusion  must  be  connected  with  his  pre- 
mises, in  order  to  render  it  legitimate.  This 
bold  design  he  accomplished  ; having  erected, 
on  a single  axiom,  a larger  system  of  abstract 
truths,  all  fortified  by  demonstration,  than  were 
ever  invented  and  perfected  by  any  other  man. 
The  axiom  from  which  he  sets  out,  and  in 
which  the  whole  terminates,  is,  that  whatever 
is  predicated  of  a genus,  may  be  predicated  of 
every  species  and  individual  contained  under 
it.  But  the  application  of  this  axiom  is  for 
the  most  part  sufficiently  obvious,  without  the 
rules  of  Aristotle  ; whose  logic,  how  successful 
soever  it  might  prove  against  the  subtleties  of 
the  Sophists  and  Eristics,  contibutes  little  to 
the  formation  of  the  understanding,  and  no- 
thing to  the  judicious  observation  of  man  or 
nature,  on  which  all  useful  discoveries  must  be 
firunded. 

From  the  general  wreck  of  literature,  in 
which  many  of  Aristotle’s  writings  perished,2 
had  nothing  been  saved  but  the  works  above 
mentioned,  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  pre- 
ceptor of  Alexander  would  not  greatly  merit 
the  attention  of  posterity.  In  his  abstract  or 
metaphysical  philosophy,  we  can  only  lament 
vast  efforts  mispent,  and  great  genius  misap- 
plied. But,  in  his  critical  and  moral,  and  above 
all,  in  his  political  works,  we  find  the  same 
penetrating  and  comprehensive  mind,  the  same 
subtlety  of  reasoning,  and  vigour  of  intellect, 
directed  to  objects  of  great  importance  and  ex- 
tensive utility.  The  condition  of  the  times  in 
which  he  lived,  and  the  opportunities  peculiar 
to  himself,  conspired  with  the  gifts  of  nature, 
and  the  habits  of  industry,  to  raise  him  to  that 
eminence,  which  was  acknowledged  by  his  con- 
temporaries, and  admired  by  posterity. 

A P He  was  born  in  the  first  year  of 

the  ninety-ninth  Olympiad,  at  Sta- 
gira,  a provincial  city  of  Macedon,  and  educat- 
ed at  the  court  of  Pella,  where  his  father  was 
king’s  physician.  In  his  early  youth,  he  was 
sent  to  Athens,  and  remained  there  twenty 
years  an  assiduous  scholar  of  Plato,  in  a city 
where  literature  and  the  fine  arts  were  culti- 
vated with  unexampled  success,  and  where  the 
philosophic  spirit,  though  often  improperly  di- 
rected, flourished  in  the  utmost  vigour.  Se- 
lected by  the  discernment  of  Philip,  to  guide 
and  confirm  the  promising  dispositions  of  his 
admired  son,  he  returned  to  his  native  country, 
and  continued  eight  years  at  the  Macedonian 
court.  Whatever  benefit  accrued  to  Alexander 
from  the  instructions  of  Aristotle,  it  is  certain 
that  the  latter  derived  great  advantages  from 
the  gratitude  of  his  royal  pupil.  Of  this,  seve- 
ral proofs  have  already  occurred  ; and  perhaps 
it  may  be  ascribed  to  the  munificence  of  Alex- 
ander, that  his  preceptor  was  enabled  to  form  a 
library,3  a work  of  prodigious  expense  in  that 
age,  and  in  which  he  could  only  be  rivalled  by 
the  Egyptian  and  Pergamenian  kings.  But  the 
library  of  Aristotle  was  collected  for  use,  not 
merely  for  ostentation.4 

2 See  the  fate  of  his  works  carefully  related  in  Bayle’s 
Dictionary,  article  Tyrannion. 

3 Strabo. 

4 The  Egyptian  and  Pergamenian  kings  were  lovers 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


46 1 


XL.] 

The  last  fourteen  years  of  his  life  he  spent 
mostly  at  Athens,  surrounded  with  every  as- 
sistance which  men* * * * 5  and  books  could  afford 
him,  for  prosecuting  his  philosophical  inquiries. 
The  glory  of  Alexander’s  name,  which  then 
filled  the  world,  ensured  tranquillity  and  respect 
to  the  man  whom  he  distinguished  as  his  friend; 
but  after  the  premature  death  of  that  illustrious 
protector,  the  invidious  jealousy  of  priests  and 
sophists  inflamed  the  malignant  and  supersti- 
tious fury  of  the  Athenian  populace ; and  the 
same  odious  passions  which  proved  fatal  to  the 
offensive6 7  virtue  of  Socrates,  fiercely  assailed 
the  fame  and  merit  of  Aristotle.  To  avoid  the 
cruelty  of  persecution,  he  secretly  withdrew 
himself  to  Chalcis,  in  Euboea.  This  measure 
p.,  was  sufficiently  justified  by  a pru- 

cxiv  3*  ^ent  re&arc^  personal  safety ; 

A C 322  kUt  ^est  conduct  should  appear 
2pi‘  * ’ unmanly,  when  contrasted  with  the 

a ' ' firmness  of  Socrates  in  a similar 

situation,  he  condescended  to  apologise  for  his 
flight,  by  saying,  that  he  was  unwilling  to  af- 
ford the  Athenians  a second  opportunity  “ to 
sin  against  philosophy.”?  He  seems  to  have 
survived  his  retreat  from  Athens  only  a few 
months ; vexation  and  regret  probably  shorten- 
ed his  days.8 

Notwithstanding  the  occasional  persecutions 
of  speculative  men,  philosophy  had  fixed  its 
roots  too  deeply  in  Athens,  to  be  extirpated  by 
the  temporary  frenzy  of  a capricious  populace. 
Theophrastus  calmly  succeeded  Aristotle  in 
the  Peripaton,  or  walk  of  the  Lyceum,  from 
which  place  their  followers  retained  the  name 
of  Peripatetics.9  At  the  same  time, 
cxx  Zeno  taught  virtue  in  the  Stota,  or 

Portico,  from  which  his  disciples 
derived  the  appellation  of  Stoics.10  Epicurus 
explained  pleasure  in  those  well-known  gar- 
dens, which  were  distinguished  by  his  name.11 
The  followers  of  Diogenes,  the  Cynic,  still  as- 
sembled in  the  Cynosarges;12  Speusippus  and 
Xenocrates  succeeded  Plato  in  the  Academy  ;13 
and  even  Pyrrho,  the  Elian,  the  founder  of  the 
sceptical  sect,  who  had  accompanied  Alexan- 
der in  his  eastern  expedition,  and  shared  the 
munificence  of  that  prince,14  became,  after  the 
death  of  his  benefactor,  a citizen  of  Athens.15 
Thus  did  that  illustrious  city,  after  the  extinc- 
tion of  its  freedom,  and  of  its  military  glory, 
still  maintain  it  pre-eminence  in  literature,  phi- 
losophy, and  the  fine  arts.  In  the  age  of  Alex- 

rather  of  books  than  of  learning.  They  considered  a great 

library  as  contributing  to  the  superfluous  magnificence  of 

royalty.  Vid.  Galen.  Comment.  2.  in  Hippocrat.  de  Natur. 

Horn. 

5 Aristotle  probably  had  many  assistants  in  his  philoso- 
phical inquiries  and  compositions.  O St  <ro$o;,  xxi  xx9 
xvtov  u)»,  Svvxtxi  Sflwgstv  PiKtiov  S'  iTuf  Svvegyouf  t%tuv. 
Ethic.  Nicom.  1.  x.  c.  vii. 

6 Virtutem  incolumen  odimus 

Sublatam  ex  oculis  quaerimus  invidi.  Horace. 

7 A/xxgrxvtiv  mgt  tv[v  $«\o<ra<p«*v,  jElian,  1.  iii.  c.  vi. 

8 Laprt.  1.  v.  in  Aristot.  et  Auctor.  citat.  apud  Brucker. 
Histor.  Philosoph.  vol.  i.  p.  787,  et  seq. 

0 The  common  opinion,  that  the  followers  of  Aristotle 
were  called  peripatetics,  tx  tow  7rtgi7rxTtiv,  “ex  deambula- 
tione,”  adopted  by  Cicero  and  others,  is  refuted  by  the  au- 
thors cited  by  Brucker,  v.  i.  p.  787. 

10  Laert.  vii.  5.  • 

]1  Cicero  ad  Attic,  1.  ii.  epist.  24.  12  Idem,  ibid. 

13  Suidas  in  Speuaipp.  Laert.  1.  iv.  c.  1,  et  seq. 

14  Sextus  Empiric.  Pyrrhon.  Hypotyp.  1.  i.  c.  iii. 

15  Leart.  in  Pyrrhon. 


ander,  Athens,  as  the  seat  of  learning,  assumed 
that  precise  form,  which  it  exactly  preserved 
seven  centuries,  till  the  destructive  invasion  of 
Greece  by  Alaric,  and  the  Goths.16  For  it  is 
A D 39G  worthy  observation,  that  the  phi- 
losophers, who,  during  this  long  in- 
terval, perpetuated  the  several  sects,  submis- 
sively followed  the  opinions  of  their  respective 
masters.  Soon  after  the  age  of  Alexander, 
genius  disappeared;  literature  and  the  arts  alike 
degenerated;  no  new  sect  arose;  few  innova- 
tions, and  those  unsuccessful,  were  attempted  ; 
and  thus  the  period,  which  has  been  assigned 
for  the  termination  of  the  present  work,  seems 
to  have  bounded  the  progress  of  the  human 
mind ; whether,  according  to  the  observation 
of  Longinus,  because  liberty  is  the  best  nurse 
of  genius,  and  singularly  adapted,  by  cherish- 
ing the  emulation  and  the  hopes,  to  excite  the 
energies,  of  those  born  to  true  excellence  ;17  or 
because,  in  the  words  of  a great  philosopher, 
w there  is  a pitch  of  exaltation,  as  well  as  of 
depression,  to  which  when  any  nation  has  at- 
tained, its  affairs  necessarily  return  in  an  oppo- 
site direction.” 

Instead  of  examining  this  speculative  ques- 
tion, which  the  world  is  perhaps  still  too  young 
to  enable  us  with  accuracy  to  determine,  it  will 
better  suit  the  design  of  an  historical  work,  to 
explain  the  tenets  of  the  different  schools  of 
philosophy,  then  first  established  in  Athens  ; 
briefly  to  relate  their  various  success  in  the 
world;  and  to  inquire,  with  becoming  modesty, 
how  far  those  artificial  systems  of  happiness 
correspond  with  the  natural  dictates  of  unper- 
verted sentiment,  and  impartial  reason. 

Aristotle,  the  founder  of  the  Peripatetic 
school,  recognised,  like  Socrates  and  Plato,  the 
dignity  of  human  nature,  and  placed  the  chief 
happiness  of  man,  not  in  the  agreeableness  of 
his  passive  sensations,  but  in  the  proper  exer- 
cise18 of  his  intellectual  and  moral  powers. 
According  to  Aristotle,  the  habit  of  this  exer- 
cise, directed  by  right  reason,  constituted  the 
highest  excellence  of  man,  in  the  same  manner 
as  the  excellence  of  other  animals,  and  even  of 
the  vegetable  and  mineral  kingdoms,  resulted 
from  the  perfection  of  those  qualities,  by  which 
they  are  respectively  distinguished.  Yet,  as 
man  is  a compound  being,  consisting  of  mind 
and  matter,  it  seemed  evident  that  his  well-be- 
ing must  in  some  measure  depend  on  the  con- 
dition of  his  body,  and  on  the  means  necessary 
to  maintain  this  inferior  part  of  his  nature  in 
its  most  perfect  state.  The  absence  of  disease 
and  infirmity,  and  the  proper  constitution  of  all 
our  bodily  organs,  are  things  desirable  not  only 
on  their  own  account,  but  as  furnishing  us  with 
the  opportunity  and  the  means  to  exert  those 
mental  energies,  from  which  our  principal  feli- 
city results.  In  the  same  manner,  the  goods 
of  fortune,  wealth,  friends,  and  other  external 


16  See  Gibbon’s  History  of  the  Roman  Empire,  v.  iii.  c. 

XXX. 

17  Long.  de  Sublim.  sect.  44. 

18  The  Stoics  adopted,  on  this  occasion,  both  the  senti- 
ments and  the  language  of  Aristotle.  ‘O  psv  <pi AoJogof  xK- 
KOTgtxv  tvtgytixv  tSiov  xyxSov  vTroKx/uSxvtf  o St  So- 
voj  iSixv  ttsmtiv  o i'ouv  t%'»v , tStxv  it gx£iv . M.  Anton, 
vi.  51.  “The  vain-glorious  man  places  bis  own  happinoss 
in  the  action  of  others : the  voluptuous  man,  in  his  passive 
sensations  ; the  wise  man,  in  his  own  active  exertions.’’ 


468 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


[Chap 


advantages,  are  desirable  not  only  as  contri- 
buting to  the  supply  of  our  bodily  wants,  but 
as  the  instruments  through  which  a wise  man 
is  enabled  to  exercise  his  virtues,  and  accom- 
plish his  purposes.  Amidst  great  calamities,1 
Aristotle  required  not  that  perfect  self-com- 
mand to  which  some  philosophers  pretended. 
He  allowed  a moderate  degree  of  perturbation, 
as  suitable  to  the  weakness  of  human  nature. 
In  the  present  constitution  of  things,  he  thought 
a certain  sensibility  of  passion  not  only  excusa- 
ble, but  necessary ; since  resentment  enabled  us 
to  repel  injuries,2  and  grief  for  past  misfortunes 
made  us  vigilant  to  prevent  the  evils  that  might 
otherwise  overtake  us.  But  although  this  great 
philosopher  acknowledged  the  influence  of  for- 
tune in  human  affairs,  and  thought  it  impossible 
for  the  firmest  of  men  to  remain  unmoved 
amidst  the  miseries  of  Priam  ;3  he  maintained, 
however,  that  we  ourselves  were  the  principal 
architects  of  our  own  happiness.  The  attain- 
ment of  this  great  object  depended  far  more  on 
our  own  thoughts  and  reflections,  which  were 
ever  and  intimately  present  with  us,  and  on  the 
constitution  of  our  own  minds,  which  were  in 
some  measure  subject  to  our  own  direction  and 
control,  than  on  our  external  situation  and 
circumstances,  which  only  affected  us  by  acci- 
dent, and  over  which  we  commonly  enjoyed 
but  little  power,  and  sometimes  none.  The  per- 
fection of  our  virtue,  which  was  entirely  our 
own  work,  shone  forth  with  peculiar  lustre 
amidst  the  gloom  of  unmerited  calamity.  When 
we  bore  it  with  becoming  patience,  we  rejoiced 
in  our  own  fortitude;  and  this  inward  pleasure 
always  alleviated  the  smart  of  external  wounds. 
Assaulted  by  the  most  terrible  afflictions,  a wise 
man  would  not  deserve  indeed  the  epithet  of 
happy ; yet  neither  could  he  be  called  miserable , 
since  he  would  still  disdain  to  commit  any  thing 
odious  or  base.  Philosophy,  which  professes  to 
teach  us  the  art  of  enjoying  life,  must  therefore 
disregard  such  circumstances  as  we  can  neither 
govern  nor  change,  and  confine  itself  to  that 
part  which  we  can  regulate  and  control.  It 
must  withdraw  our  attention  from  external 
objects,  and  fix  it  on  ourselves.4 

To  know  himself,  man  must  know  the  pow- 
ers with  which  he  is  endowed.  Of  those,  we 
possess  some  in  common  with  other  animals,5 
and  others  in  common  even  with  the  inanimate 
parts  of  nature.6  In  none  of  these,  it  is  evident, 
can  the  proper  employment  of  man  consist,  but 
rather  in  such  faculties,  as,  being  peculiar  to 
himself,  distinguish  and  ennoble  humanity. 


1 Oure  yxg  ex  rtf ; evXxiuovixs  xivyiS^a-erxi  gxSiu>;,  oure 

VTO  Tu>V  TU%0VT»V  XTU%>lflXT ti>V,  OtXA.’  VJTO  fttyxXwV  XXI 

ro\K'*v.  Ethic.  Nicom.  1.  i.  c.  x. 

2 To  bear  insults  tamely,  was  regarded  as  highly  un- 
graceful, and  becoming  only  the  character  of  a slave.  ToJs 
»rp35T!j>.ax«^oA6svov  xvsztcix*  xvSgx7roSaiSe;.  Ethic.  Nicom. 
iv.  2. 

3 Ev  ru%x«5  TTpix.utxxi;.  Aristot.  Ethic.  Nicom.  p.  40. 

4 In  explaining  the  Aristotelian  philosophy,  the  learned 
reader  will  perceive  that  I have  endeavoured  to  translate, 
as  literally  as  possible,  the  energetic  expressions  of  its  au- 
thor. The  outline  has  been  traced  with  equal  perspicuity 
and  elegance  by  Dr.  Adam  Smith,  in  his  Account  of  the 
Systems  of  Ancient  Philosophy,  annexed  to  his  admired 
Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments.  The  design  of  my  work 
obliges  me  to  treat  the  subject  more  particularly. 

5 The  to  xiTOrnxov,  the  powers  of  sensation,  fee. 

6 The  re  i^errnx ov,  Jtc.  the  powers  of  nutrition,  See. 


These  characteristic  excellencies  of  our  species 
all  refer,  either  to  the  understanding,  or  to  the 
will;7 8  the  first  possesses  reason  essentially  in 
itself,  the  second  is  capable  of  being  combined 
and  assimilated  with  this  divine  principle. 
From  the  two  powers  of  the  understanding  and 
the  will  are  respectively  derived  two  classes^  of 
virtues,  the  intellectual  and  the  moral.  Saga- 
city, penetration,  intelligence,  wisdom,  are  vir- 
tues of  the  understanding;  gentleness,  temper- 
ance, fortitude,  justice,  are  virtues  of  the  heart. 
The  former  class  consists  in  the  proper  disposi- 
tion and  habit6  of  the  intellectual  part  of  the 
soul;  the  latter,  in  the  proper  disposition  and 
habit  of  the  desires  and  affections,  which  being 
formed  subordinate  to  reason,  and  capable  of 
listening  to  its  dictates,  then  only  perform  their 
duty,  when,  like,, obedient  subjects,  they  cheer- 
fully observe  the  commands  of  their  sovereign. 
The  intellectual  virtues  depend  chiefly  on  edu- 
cation and  exercise;  the  moral  proceed  entirely 
from  habit,  from  which  they  derive  their 
name.9  It  is  by  practising  justice,  that  we 
become  just ; by  practising  temperance,  that 
we  become  temperate ; by  practising  courage, 
that  we  become  courageous.  Hence  the  won- 
derful power  of  legislation,  and  early  institu- 


7 I have  ventured  to  use  this  word  to  express  the  to 
ogsxTncov  of  Aristotle,  the  seat  of  appetites,  affections,  and 
passions. 

8 ETTXIVOVfeev  Se  XXI  TOV  T opov  XXTX  TJf V e^iv  TWV  t|‘x'V 

S'e  t*s  ex-xiverxs,  xgerxg  Keyo /xev.  Ethic.  Nicom.  1.  i. 
c.  ult. 

9 H5«xo$,  «5os;  moralis,  mos.  The  same  holds  not  in 
English.  The  words  *esT>j  in  Greek,  and  virtus  in  Latin, 
are  of  very  general  import,  denoting  any  praiseworthy  dis- 
position, habit,  or  quality,  of  body  or  mind,  intellectual  or 
moral.  The  indeterminate  use  of  these  words  has  occa- 
sioned a strange  confusion.  The  late  ingenious  Mr.  Hume, 
in  bis  Inquiry  into  the  Principles  of  Morals,  which  in  other 
respects,  he  justly  considers  as  the  most  valuable  of  his 
writings,  enters  into  a large  deduction,  to  prove  that  all  vir- 
tues are  praised  and  recommended  as  useful  or  agreeable. 
These  qualities  constitute,  according  to  him,  the  proper  de- 
finition, the  very  essence  of  virtue;  and  all  other  distinctions 
are  frivolous.  To  justify  this  paradox,  he  alleges  the  au- 
thority of  Greek  poets  and  philosophers,  who  apply  the 
term  virtue  to  bodily  strength  or  address,  to  memory,  judg- 
ment, sagacity,  &c.  as  well  as  to  justice,  humanity,  charity. 
This  indeed  is  true;  but  the  Greeks  distinguished’  between 
the  virtues  of  the  body,  and  those  of  the  mind ; and  the 
mental  virtues  they  divided  into  the  intellectual  and  moral. 
Aristotle  characterises  moral  virtue  as  a voluntary  habit, 
and  says,  that  moral  approbation  is  excited  only  by  the 
praiseworthy  habit  of  such  affections  and  actions  as  origi- 
nate in  ourselves,  and  depend  on  no  extrinsic  cause.  See 
Aristot.  Magn.  Moral.  1.  i.  c.  xv.  and  his  commentator  An- 
dronicus  Rhodius,  p.  89.  and  the  Ethics  to  Nicomachus, 
throughout.  Mr.  Ilume,  therefore,  is  justly  reproved  by 
Dr.  Beattie,  for  saying,  “that  the  ancient  moralists  made 
no  material  distinction  among  the  different  species  of  menial 
endowments  and  defects.”  See  Hume’s  Inquiry,  vol.  ii.  p. 
387.  But  although  the  ancients,  and  Aristotle  in  particular, 
make  very  material  distinctions  between  moral  and  intel- 
lectual virtues,  yet,  in  his  fceal  for  the  good  cause,  Dr. 
Beattie  appears  to  me  to  go  too  far  in  asserting,  “that 
though  they  considered  both  the  moral  and  intellectual  vir- 
tues as  necessary  to  the  formation  of  a perfect  character, 
and  sometimes  discoursed  of  both  in  the  same  treatise  or 
svstem,  vet  thev  deemed  the  latter  valuable  only  as  means 
to  qualify  us  for  the  former , and  insignificant,  or  even 
odious,  when  thy  failed  to  answer  this  end.”  See  Essay 
on  Truth,  p.425.  First  of  all,  according  to  the  Greek 
moralists,  it  is  impossible  ever  to  treat  of  the  moral  virtues 
as  distinct  from  the  intellectual,  since  the  former  culd  not 
exist  without  a mixture  of  reason  or  intellect.  Ethic.  Ni- 
com. passim  ; and  particularly,  1.  iii.  c.  ii.  Secondly,  The 
intellectual  virtues  were  so  far  from  being  esteemed  only  as 
means  to  qualify  us  for  the  moral,  that  Arsitotle  considers 
the  exercise  of  the  former  totally  independent  of  the  latter, 
as  constituting  our  highest  perfection  and  happiness.  Ethic. 
Nicom.  1.  x.  c.  vii. 


XL] 

tion,  by  which  the  Cretans,  the  Spartans,  and 
some  other  nations,  were  honourably  distin- 
guished among  the  rest  of  mankind  ; and  by 
which  such  states  as  shall  wisely  imitate  their 
example,  may  still  reach  the  same  elevation  of 
character,  and  still  acquire  the  same  renown  : 
“ For  it  is  not  a matter  of  little  moment,  how 
we  are  accustomed  in  youth  ; much  depends  on 
that,  or  rather  all.” 

The  moral  virtues,  it  is  evident,  are  not  im- 
planted by  nature;  for  that  which  is  established 
by  nature,  cannot  be  essentially  changed  by 
custom.  Heavy  bodies,  which,  by  the  law  of 
nature,  descend,  cannot  be  habituated  to  mount 
upwards;  nor  can  fire,  which  naturally  ascends, 
be  taught  by  habit  to  move  in  a contrary  direc- 
tion. The  same  holds  concerning  all  the  other 
laws  by  which  nature  governs  her  works.  Our 
senses,  and  other  natural  gifts,  have  the  power 
of  performing  their  several  functions,  before 
they  exert  it;  and  they  retain  this  power,  al- 
though we  should  allow  them  to  remain  inac- 
tive. But  virtue,  like  all  practical  arts,  can  be 
acquired  and  preserved  by  practice  only.  It  is 
neither  natural,  nor  contrary  to  nature.  We 
are  born  capable  to  attain  it,  but  the  invaluable 
attainment  must  be  made  and  perfected  by  ha- 
bit. Yet  the  greater  part  of  those  who  aspire 
to  this  inestimable  prize,  have  recourse  to  vain 
speculations,  flattering  themselves  that  this  is 
philosophy.  Their  conduct  resembles  that  of 
a patient,  who  should  carefully  listen  to  his 
physician,  but  do  nothing  which  he  prescribed. 
By  such  medicine  it  is  not  possible  to  cure  the 
disorders  of  the  body,  nor  by  such  philosophy, 
those  of  the  mind. 

Virtue,  as  a matter  of  practice,  cannot  be  re- 
duced to  metaphysical  precision.  It  is  to  be 
observed,  however,  that  all  the  virtues  depend 
on  the  propriety  of  the  affections  from  which 
they  arise ; and  that  this  propriety  consists  in 
a certain  point  or  centre,  from  which  the  devia- 
tions may  be  innumerable.  The  vices,  there- 
fore, many  of  which  are  without  names,  are  far 
more  numerous  than  the  virtues.  In  general, 
virtue  may  be  conceived  to  lie  in  a mean  be- 
twixt the  extremes  of  too  much  and  too  little ; 
and  this  health  of  the  mind  resembles  bodily 
health  and  strength,  which  are  destroyed  by  ex- 
cess or  defect  of  nourishment  and  exercise. 
Thus,  to  fear  every  thing  is  cowardly  ; to  fear 
nothing  is  audacious;  courage  requires  that  we 
should  fear  only  such  objects  as  are  truly  for- 
midable, and  only  in  that  degree  in  which  they 
ought  to  be  feared.  In  the  same  manner,  he 
who  is  too  much  affected  by  objects  of  pleasure, 
and  seizes  every  opportunity  to  enjoy  them,  is 
called  intemperate  ; he  who  is  too  little  affected 
by  such  objects,  and  refuses  every  opportunity 
to  enjoy  them,  may  be  called  insensible.  Tem- 
perance teaches  us  to  pursue  only  such  plea- 
sures as  we  ought,  at  proper  times,  in  proper 
places,  and  on  proper  occasions.  According  to 
the  same  view  of  things,  generosity  lies  in  the 
middle  between  avarice  and  profusion;  mo- 
desty, between  pride  and  diffidence;  mildness, 
between  irascibility  and  softness;  magnificence, 
between  ostentation  and  parsimony;  popularity, 
between  forbidding  disdain  and  officious  adula- 
tion ; in  a word,  every  virtue  consists  in  a 


469 

mean,  equally  remote  from  two  vicious  ex- 
tremes.^ 

Considered  as  the  quality  of  an  action,  virtue 
consists  in  the  propriety  of  that  affection  from 
which  the  action  proceeds;  when  the  affection 
is  neither  too  strong  nor  too  weak,  but  has  pre- 
cisely that  degree  of  strength,  which  right  rea- 
son teaches  us  to  approve.  As  the  quality  of 
an  action,  virtue  consists,  therefore,  in  medio- 
crity ; but  as  the  quality  of  A person,  it  consists 
in  the  habit  of  this  mediocrity,  since,  in  judging 
persons  and  characters,  we  regard  not  particular 
acts  and  feelings,  but  such  acts  and  feelings  as  are 
frequent  and  habitual,  ^e  may  perform  many 
virtuous  actions,  without  being  virtuous  men. 
The  most  worthless  of  human  kind  sometimes 
indulge  thepropensity  to  pity  and  humanity.  But 
whoever  acts  right,  merely  from  feeling,  will 
also,  from  feeling,  more  frequently  act  wrong. 
The  sentiments  of  nature,  which  prompt  us  to 
take  care  of  our  children,  to  relieve  objects  in 
distress,  and  to  perform  many  important  duties 
of  morality,  likewise  prompt  us  to  gratify  the 
vilest  and  most  brutal  of  our  passions.  Besides 
this,  there  are  many,  and  those  the  most  impor- 
tant virtues,  the  exercise  of  which  is  not  at  first 
attended  with  pleasure.  To  support  labour,  to 
endure  pain,  to  encounter  difficulties  and  dan- 
gers, which  wisdom  qnd  fortitude,  on  many 
occasions,  require,  are  not  obviously  recom- 
mended by  any  natural  desire  ; nor  is  the  prac- 
tice of  such  duties  immediately  agreeable.  It 
is  still  less  agreeable,  in  the  first  instance,  to 
curb  and  restrain  our  natural  appetites  for  plea- 
sure, which  is  the  proper  office  of  temperance  ; 
nor  can  that  vigilant  circumspection,  and  ever 
watchful  attention  to  the  most  remote  conse- 
quences of  our  actions,  which  is  essential  to  the 
virtue  of  prudence,  be  acquired  without  trouble 
and  care,  without  many  painful  efforts  and 
many  difficult  struggles.  Yet  it  is  the  nature 
of  all  those  virtues,  as  well  as  of  the  hardest 
lessons  of  justice,  patriotism,  and  friendship,  to 
become,  through  habit,  agreeable;  and  the  only 
sure  test  that  we  have  acquired  them,  is,  that 
they  are  practised  with  pleasure.  With  good 
reason,  therefore,  Plato  defines  education  to  be 
the  art  of  teaching  men  to  rejoice  and  grieve  as 
they  ought;  for  though  there  be  three  ends  ul- 
timately agreeable,  the  pleasant,  the  honoura- 
ble, and  useful;  yet  honour  and  utility  are  like- 
wise pursued  as  pleasures.* 11 

The  most  extensive  part  of  virtue  is  employed, 
therefore,  in  regulating  our  desire  of  pleasure, 
and  aversion  to  pain.  It  is  also  the  most  diffi- 
cult; for,  as  Heraclitus  observes,  »t  is  harder  to 
combat  pleasure  than  anger.  The  irascible 
passions  are  always  moved  by  some  appearance 
of  reason;  and,  in  their  most  furious  excesses, 
still  affect  some  deference  for  their  sovereign. 
They  often,  indeed,  mistake  his  intentions; 
and,  like  hasty  servants,  fly  into  action,  without 
waiting  his  last  orders.  But  pleasure  passively 
obeys  sensation,  without  regarding  reason  at 
all.  The  mishief  is  the  more  dangerous,  being 
produced  by  the  first  object  of  natural  desire; 
for  the  love  of  pleasure  is  implanted  in  our 


10  Ethic.  Nioom.  1.  ii.  c.  i.  et  seq. 

11  Ibid.  1.  vii.  c.  xi.  et  seq. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


470 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


frame;  the  germ  expands  with  our  nature;  and 
unless  counteracted  in  due  time,  becomes  in- 
grained in  our  constitution,  every  part  of  which 
it  impregnates  and  stains.  Habit  alone  can 
counteract  those  dangerous  propensities  of  na- 
ture. Habit  can  enable  us  to  reject  dishonoura- 
ble or  hurtful  pleasures,  to  prefer  honourable, 
or  useful  pains ; for,  as  the  poet  Euenus  says, 
“ there  is  a long  continued  exercise  of  attention, 
which  finally  becomes  nature.”1 

The  moral  virtues  cannot,  according  to  Aris- 
totle, subsist  without  some  mixture  of  the  intel- 
lectual; but  the  latter  may  subsist  alone  and 
independent;  and  according  to  both  Aristotle 
and  Plato,  the  purest  and  most  permanent  feli- 
city of  which  man  is  susceptible,  results  from 
the  exercise  of  his  rational  powers  upon  sub- 
jects of  abstract  speculation.  The  labours  of 
the  statesman  or  general,  the  exertions  of  the 
legislator  or  patriot,  all  refer  to  some  end  or 
purpose,  the  attainment  of  which  may  be  pre- 
vented by  fortune,  or  frustrated  by  the  weak- 
ness or  wickedness  of  man.  The  practice  of 
justice,  generosity,  temperance,  and  fortitude, 
requires  many  conditions,  and  supposes  a va- 
riety of  situations,  which  it  is  not  always  in 
our  power  to  command.  The  just  or  generous 
man  must  have  objects  to  whom  he  may  distri- 
bute his  justice  or  generosity  ; he  must  possess 
the  means  by  which  to  exercise  those  virtues, 
which  all  participate  of  frail  mortality;  since, 
though  directed  by  prudence,  they  are  impelled 
by  passion,  and  result  from  the  exigencies  of 
our  present  corporeal  state.  But  the  energies 
of  contemplative  wisdom  are  pure  and  simple, 
like  the  intellectual  source  from  which  they 
spring.  Not  subservient  to  remote  purposes, 
or  contingent  ends,  they  are  immediately  agree- 
able on  their  own  account;  and,  on  every  side, 
round  and  complete  in  themselves.  If  the  pro- 
per exercise  of  every  member  or  faculty  en- 
livens the  sense  of  our  existence,  and  thereby 
yields  us  a perception  of  pleasure,  how  wonder- 
fully delightful  must  be  the  exercise  of  the  in- 
tellect, which  renders  us  sensible  of  the  divine 
principle  within  us ! To  live  according  to  na- 
ture, is  to  live  according  to  the  noblest  part  of 
our  nature,  which,  doubtless,  is  the  mind.  To 
live  thus,  is  the  life  of  a god;  for,  human  as  we 
are,  we  ought  not,  according  to  the  vulgar  ex- 
hortation, to  regard  only  human  things;  but, 
though  mortal,  strive  to  put  on  immortality;2 
assured,  that  as  the  mind  chiefly  forms  the  man, 
he  who  most  cultivates  his  mind,  is  the  best 
disposed  in  himself,  and  the  most  agreeable  to 
the  gods.3 

Such  is  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle,  lofty 
sometimes,  and  imposing,  but  in  general,  less 


1 Euenus  was  an  elegiac  poet  of  Paros,  of  whom  few 
fragments  remain.  The  verses  translated  in  the  text  are, 

5T0\tJ%g01M0V  ftekCT JJ V i/XCVXl  Qikt  XXI  £>1 
T*ut>)v  »vS(a>7ronri  TikevTaxrxv  $u <riv  emsei. 

This  is  better  expressed  by  another  Greek  proverb:  Exou 
/8iov  ctf (trrov,  i)5uv  Se  xvtov  i)  trvvt rfsix  7roo)(T£«.  Plut. 
Moral,  p.  602.  “ Choose  the  best  life,  and  custom  will  ren- 
der it  agreeable.” 

2 Xfn  ?£  0U  XXTX  TOV?  TTXgX IVOVVTXf,  XvSg IU7TIVX  Qg 0- 

VEiv,  xvSgwi tov  ovree,  Oi iSt  Svyrx  rav  ^v»)T0v  ■ xkk ’ £$’ 
CTOv  £vj£%£Tse«  X7TX&XVXT  XXI  X7TXVTX  n 0IE0V  XXTX 

to  xgxv lo-rtoi  Tiov  ev  xvTtv.  Ethic.  Nicom.  1.  x.  c.  vii. 

3 O Se  xxtx  vouv  evegyv uv,  xxi  tovtov  ^rsgxxreviuv^  xxi 

Sixxfi/usvof  xg iCTst,  xxi  5f eoexev  ftvxt.  Id. 

c.  x.  c.  viii. 


[Chap. 

erect  and  independent  than  that  of  Socrates  and 
Plato,  who  preceded  him ; less  proud  and  boast- 
ful than  that  of  the  Stoics,  or  evep  the  Epicu- 
reans, by  whom  he  was  followed ; and  on  the 
whole,  perhaps  as  unexceptionable  as  that  of 
any  moralist  ancient  or  modern. 

It  is  commonly  observed,  that  Aristotle  at- 
tained the  same  authority  over  the  opinions  of 
men,  which  his  pupil  Alexander  acquired  over 
their  persons.  But  the  empire  of  Alexander 
was  established  in  his  own  lifetime,  and  perished 
with  himself.  That  of  Aristotle  did  not  com- 
mence till  more  than  a thousand  years  after  his 
decease,  and  continued  several  centuries.  The 
Peripatetic  school  subsisted,  indeed,  without 
interruption,  at  Athens;  but  the  Lyceum  never 
attained  there  any  pre-eminence  above  the  Por- 
tico and  Academy.  When  philosophy  was 
transplanted  to  a more  splendid  theatre  in 
Rome,  men  of  speculation  and  science  generally 
preferred  Plato  to  Aristotle;4  while  many  of 
the  most  celebrated  characters  of  the  republic 
enlisted  themselves  under  the  banners  of  Zeno 
or  Epicurus.  With  the  fall  of  Roman  liberty, 
philosophy,  as  well  as  literature  and  the  fine 
arts,  slowly  declined  ; and  under  the  emperors, 
particularly  in  the  second  and  third  centuries  of 
the  Christian  era,  the  most  extravagant  of  Pla- 
to’s speculations  were  the  doctrines  best  adapted 
to  the  condition  of  the  times,  and  to  the  dark 
and  shadowy  minds  of  Plotinus,  Porphyry,  Jam- 
blichus,  and  other  contemplative  visionaries, 
distinguished  by  the  appellation  of  Eclectics,  or 
later  Platonists,  who  possessed  the  wildness 
without  the  fancy,  and  the  subtilty  without  the 
genius,  of  Plato.5  During  the  succeeding  cen- 
turies, the  doctrines  of  Aristotle  slowly  gained 
the  ascendant;  but,  as  had  happened  to  Plato 
in  an  earlier  period,  the  most  frivolous  part  of 
Aristotle’s  philosophy  was  the  highest  in  esteem 
during  the  darkness  of  the  middle  ages.  The 
decisive  boldness  of  his  logic,  physic,  and  meta- 
physic, suited  the  genius  of  a church  which 
affected  to  be  universal,  and  the  insolence  of  a 
man  who  pretended  to  be  infallible;  and,  while 
the  useful  and  practical  works  of  Aristote  were 
neglected,  his  speculative  philosophy  being  thus 
incorporated  with  the  Romish  superstition,  they 
long  conspired,  with  astonishing  success,  to  en- 
thral the  human  mind. 

Zeno  and  Epicurus  pretended,  as  well  as 
Plato  and  Aristotle,  to  deduce  their  philosophy 
from  experience  ; but  their  views  of  nature  are 
less  perspicuous,  and  less  extensive  ; and  their 
conclusions  less  convincing,  and  less  reasonable. 
For  the  infinite  variety  of  nature,  they  substi- 
tuted the  narrowness  of  their  own  artificial  sys- 
tems ; and  it  will  ever  be  the  scandal  of  this 
abstract  philosophy,  that  men  who  boasted  fol- 
lowing the  same  path,  should  have  reached  such 
opposite  goals;  the  sect  of  Zeno  having  discov- 
ered, by  all  its  researches,  that  pain  was  not  an 
evil ; and  the  sect  of  Epicurus,  that  pleasure 
was  the  only  good : the  Stoics,  that  virtue  alone 
was  truly  valuable  in  itself,  and  desirable  on  its 
own  account;  the  Epicureans,  that  virtue  in 


4 Cicero,  passim. 

5 Besides  the  works  of  Brucker  and  Stanley,  the  learnpd 
reader  may  consult,  on  this  subject,  professor  Meiners  Bey- 
trag  liber  die  Neu-Platonische  Philosophic.  Leipzig,  1782. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


471 


XL.] 

itself  was  really  of  no  value,  and  merely  desira- 
ble for  the  sake  of  pleasure.  Yet,  amidst  the 
striking  contradictions  of  these  sects,  they  agreed 
in  speculative  pride,  loudly  asserting,  that  the 
philosophy  which  they  respectively  taught,  was 
the  exclusive  road  to  happiness.  Both  required 
from  their  imaginary  sage  an  absolute  command 
over  his  passions  ; and  both  supposed,  that  in 
his  present  state  of  existence,  he  could  attain  this 
perfection.  Zeno  and  Epicurus  alike  rejected 
the  doctrine  of  future  rewards  and  punishments, 
as  unnecessary  to  their  system ; both  justified 
suicide ; both  boasted  of  enjoying  a felicity 
equal  to  that  of  the  gods  ; and,  in  proportion 
as  their  principles  receded  from  truth  and  na- 
ture, and  flattered  that  factitious  vanity  inci- 
dent to  the  human  heart,  they  were  diffused 
with  greater  rapidity,  more  zealously  embraced, 
and  more  obstinately  defended.6 

In  examining  by  what  show  of  reason,  men 
whose  wisdom  was  revered  by  their  contempo- 
raries, could  arrive  at  such  extraordinary  con- 
clusions, the  dignity  of  virtue  demands  the  pre- 
cedence for  Zeno.  That  philosopher  affected, 
with  great  accuracy,  to  examine  the  natural 
propensities  of  the  human  race  ; to  observe  the 
various  changes  which  they  underwent  in  their 
progress  from  infancy  to  manhood  ; to  contem- 
plate the  effects  produced  by  external  causes  on 
our  internal  frame  ; and,  by  comparing  man 
with  inferior  animals,  to  display  the  illustrious 
prerogatives  which  he  enjoyed,  and  the  high 
destination  which  nature  had  assigned  him. 
Self-preservation,  he  observed,  was  the  univer- 
sal and  primary  desire  of  all  animals.  In  man, 
this  desire  respected  his  body,  and  all  its  differ- 
ent members,  his  mind,  and  all  its  different 
faculties  ; and  prompted  him  to  maintain  the 
whole  fabric  of  his  complex  existence  in  the 
most  perfect  condition  of  which  if  is  capable. 
Nature  had  generally  attached  a pleasure  to  the 
means  necessary  for  this  purpose  ; but  that  we 
desired  pleasure  for  the  sake  of  preservation, 
not  preservation  for  the  sake  of  pleasure,  he 
thought  evident  from  the  first  motions  and  ef- 
forts of  all  animals,  tending  to  prevent  dissolu- 
tion, and  preceding  any  distinct  notions  of  pain 
or  pleasure.7 

Although,  in  the  order  of  time,  man  per- 
haps first  felt  the  propensities  requisite  to  the 
safety  of  his  bodily  frame,  yet,  at  a very  early 
period,  he  showed  himself  endowed  with  desires 
of  a different,  and  more  exalted  kind.  Not  to 
mention  the  obscure  intimations  of  his  love  of 
truth  and  knowledge  during  his  infant  state,  in 
which  he  applied  his  senses  with  great  activity 
to  the  examination  of  the  objects  presented  to 
him,  he  naturally  learned  the  use  of  words  to 
express  these  objects,  as  well  as  the  notions  of 
his  own  mind  concerning  them ; and  had  no 
sooner  made  this  important  acquisition,  than  he 
testified  an  ardent  curiosity  to  extend  his 
knowledge,  and  to  enlarge  his  acquaintance 


6 Laort.  in  Zonon.  et  Epicur.  Cicero  de  Finibus,  1.  i.  ii, 
iii.  Plutarch,  de  Commun.  Concept,  contra  Stuicos. 

7 The  principles  of  the  Stoical  philosophy  are  explained 
in  Cicero  He  Finibus,  the  works  of  Epictetus,  Arrian,  Sim- 
plicius, and  Seneca.  In  treating  of  the  practical  duties  of 
morality.  Cicero,  in  his  Offices  chiefly  follows  the  princi- 
ples of  the  Stoics. 


with  the  nature,  the  causes,  and  dependencies 
of  the  various  classes  of  beings  which  he  be- 
held around  him.  From  this  love  and  appro- 
bation of  what  is  true  and  sincere,  rather  than 
of  the  contrary,  which  he  felt  to  be  congenial 
to  his  own  nature,  he  readily  believed  what- 
ever those  persons,  with  whom  he  conversed, 
thought  proper  to  communicate  to  him  ; a prin- 
ciple which,  though  the  source  of  innumerable 
errors  and  prejudices,  served,  however,  as  the 
only  foundation  on  which  his  future  improve- 
ments could  be  built. 

In  examining  the  nature  and  relations  of 
other  things,  he  gradually  became  sensible  of  his 
own.  His  affections,  he  felt,  carried  him  be- 
yond his  own  person,  and  he  derived  happiness 
from  the  happiness  of  others,  although  he  re- 
ceived from  it  no  advantage  but  the  pleasure 
of  beholding  it.  The  sentiments  of  justice,  gra- 
titude, and  benevolence,  he  felt  to  be  agreeable 
to  his  nature,  to  be  proper  and  laudable  ; the 
contrary  sentiments,  to  be  disagreeable  to  his 
nature,  to  be  improper  and  odious.  His  own 
good,  therefore,  was  thus  pointed  out  to  him, 
by  the  original  frame  of  his  sentiments,  to  be 
intimately  connected  with  the  good  of  his  fa- 
mily, his  friends,  his  country,  and  the  great  so- 
ciety of  mankind,  of  which  he  made  part.  En- 
larging his  views  still  farther,  he  perceived,  that 
every  species  is  relative  to  the  element  in  which 
it  lives ; thus  fishes  have  fins  for  the  water,  birds 
have  wings  for  the  air;  and  that  many  of  these 
species  are  mutually  connected  with,  and  reci- 
procally subservient  to,  each  other,  while  all  of 
them  essentially  enter  into  the  great  plan«of  na- 
ture, and  complete  the  harmony  and  perfection 
of  that  universal  system,  to  the  stability  of 
which  the  order  of  particular  parts,  or  what, 
in  each  species,  and  in  each  individual,  is  called 
private  good,  must  necessarily  be  subordinate. 
Considering  the  narrowness  of  human  capacity 
it  is  not  wonderful  that  many  of  the  connections 
and  dependencies  of  this  universal  system  should 
escape  our  observation.  But  if  we  confine  our 
view  to  those  objects  of  which  we  have  tile 
clearest  apprehension,  u'e  shall  find  that  they 
all  depend  on  each  other,  and  are  united  in  one 
scheme  or  constitution  of  things.  The  indi- 
viduals of  the  human  race  were  doubtless  form- 
ed, not  for  themselves  alone.  In  the  different 
sexes,  the  external  organization,  and  still  more 
the  inward  frame,  the  correspondence  of  parts, 
and  still  more  the  sympathy  of  sentiments,  in- 
dicate the  male  and  female  mutually  destined 
for  each  other.  The  naked  helplessness  of  in- 
fancy requires  the  tender  cares  of  a parent. 
The  decrepitude  of  age  loudly  demands  the 
kind  returns  of  filial  gratitude.  In  early  ages 
of  the  world,  men,  without  uniting  in  small 
communities,  must  have  fallen  a prey  to  the 
savages  of  the  desert ; and,  with  the  growth  of 
these  communities,  social  affection  naturally 
makes  progress ; since,  with  the  advancement 
of  arts  and  civilily,  the  bands  which  unite  us 
to  our  country  are  continually  multiplied  and 
strengthened. 

In  thus  contemplating  the  relations  in  which 
he  stands,  man  becomes  sensible  of  the  duties 
required  of  him.  The  voice  of  nature  teaches 
him  (for  this  is  her  universal  law)  that  the 


472 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


greater  good  is  to  be  preferred  to  the  lesser,  and 
the  good  of  the  many  to  that  of  the  few.  In 
applying  this  rule  to  all  the  classes  of  objects 
submitted  to  our  choice,  we  live  consistently 
with  nature.  The  goods  of  the  mind,  there- 
foie,  must  be  preferred  to  those  of  the  body; 
and  what  is  called  private  interest  must  yield  to 
that  of  the  public.  Even  in  objects  of  the  same 
class,  the  general  law  must  be  observed.  We 
must  prefer  and  reject,  according  to  the  rules  of 
right  reason,  not  according  to  caprice  and  fancy. 
In  the  primary  objects  of  desire  respecting  the 
tody,  health  is  to  be  preferred  to  strength,  and 
strength  to  agility  ; and  in  the  secondary  objects 
•especting  this  part  of  our  natures,  or  those 
ivhich  may  be  employed  as  instruments  to  pro- 
•ure  bodily  pleasures,  and  ward  off  bodily  pains, 
uch  as  wealth,  power,  the  good  opinion  of  those 
jrith  whom  we  live,  and  innumerable  other  cir- 
-.mmstances  of  a similar  kind,  we  must  uni- 
kircily  regulate  our  conduct  by  the  same  great 
principles  of  preference  and  rejection.1  In  thus 
* ^prociating  the  objects  of  desire,  and  when  all 
c<umot  be  obtained,  in  preferring  the  most  va- 
luable and  honourable ; in  thus  appreciating 
the  objects  of  aversion,  and  when  all  cannot  be 
avoided,  in  rejecting  the  most  hurtful  and  odious, 
consist  that  order  and  harmony,  that  just  ba- 
lance of  affection,  and  perfect  propriety  of  con- 
duct which  essentially  contains  in  it  whatever 
is  meritorious),  laudable,  and  happy.  It  is  con- 
cerning the  primary  objects  of  desire,  indeed, 
and  the  means  necessary  to  attain  them,  that 
this  propriety  of  sentiment  and  action  is  exer- 
cised ; but  as  those  to  whom  we  are  recom- 
mended are  often  mote  valued  by  us,  than  those 
by  whom  we  are  made  known  to  them,  so  the 
duties  of  wisdom  and  virtue,  to  which  we  have 
been,  as  it  were,  recommended  by  the  original 
propensities  of  our  nature,  are  far  more  esti- 
mable in  themselves,  than  nil  the  external  ad- 
vantages which  they  aro  fitted  to  procure. 
When  our  lives  are  harmonised  to  virtue,  when 
we  perceive  the  agreement  of  our  thoughts  and 
actions  to  propriety  and  decorum,  the  beauty 
of  this  concord  strikes  us  as  infinitely  more  de- 
sirable than  all  the  ends  which  it  has  a tendency 
to  promote ; this  concord  itself  becomes  the 
great,  or  rather  the  sole,  end  of  all  our  pur- 
suits ; compared  with  which,  health  and  sick- 
ness, riches  and  poverty,  pain  and  pleasure,  are 
finally  considered  as  objects  of  little  moment, 
and  altogether  incapable  of  shaking  the  stability 
of  our  happiness. 

It  is  in  vain  that  men  seek  felicity  in  those 
objects  which  depend  not  on  themselves;  which, 
even  while  they  possess,  they  fear  to  lose  ; and 
which  fortune  can  neither  give  nor  take  away.2 
The  feelings  of  our  own  minds,  which  are  ever 
and  intimately  present  to  us,  must  always  afford 
the  princpal  source  of  our  happiness  or  misery. 
To  a wise  man,  therefore,  every  condition  of 
external  circumstances,  and  every  situation  in 
life,  must  be  alike  indifferent,  since  there  is 


1 The  technical  terms  of  the  Stoical  philosophy,  like  all 
terms  of  art,  sound  awkward  in  languages  in  vvhidh  they 
were  not  originally  invented  ; nothing  can  be  more  natural 
than  the  Greek  expressions,  ogs-ye<rSxi  and  e*x\*vs»v. 

2 K*l  T*  fltV  £$’  tlfttv  £TT<  $U0T£(  (KevSsgX,  «X«XoT0t, 

UrXgS/X7rO$£<rTX.  TX  Sf  OUX  *$’  x<r5ev>i}  Sov\xf 

KwXuTse,  xK\ orgix.  Epictet.  Enchir.  c.  ii. 


[Chap. 

none  wherein  he  can  be  placed,  in  which  he 
may  not  perform  his  duty,  and  render  himself 
an  object  of  approbation  and  applause  to  all 
rational  nature.  To  feel  in  our  own  minds  the 
testimony  of  the  whole  universe  in  our  favour, 
and  to  be  sensible,  that  whatever  may  be  the 
consequences  of  our  conduct,  it  has  been  go- 
verned by  the  great  rules  which  the  Divinity 
prescribes,  affords  a degree  of  inward  satisfac- 
tion, to  which  the  greatest  outward  prosperity 
can  add  nothing  worthy  of  calculation  ; for  as 
a single  drop  of  water  is  lost  in  the  broad  ex- 
panse of  the  iEgean,  as  a single  step  is  disre- 
garded in  the  immense  distance  to  India,  as 
the  light  of  a taper  is  eclipsed  by  the  meridian 
sun,3  so  the  external  conveniencies  of  life,  and 
the  advantages  pertaining  to  the  body,  are 
overwhelmed,  obscured  and  lost,  in  the  tran- 
scendent excellence  and  incomparable  splen- 
dour of  virtue. 

Those  dangers  which  appear  most  formidable, 
and  those  calamities  which  appear  most  dread- 
ful to  the  vulgar,  cannot  intimidate  or  deject 
the  man,  who  has  fortitude  to  despise  the  one, 
and  constancy  to  bear  the  other.  The  sage  de- 
lights in  those  clouds  of  adversity,  through 
which  his  virtue  beams  forth  with  peculiar 
lustre  ; and  rejoices  in  the  kind  cruelties  of 
fortune,  which  subject  him  to  difficult  and  glo- 
rious combats.  Sensible  of  his  own  powers,  he 
is  happy  to  measure  them  against  a vigorous 
antagonist.  The  victory  is  not  liable  to  con- 
tingencies, but  depends  on  himself  alone  : a 
consideration  sufficient  to  support  him  against 
the  number  and  strength  of  his  enemies.4  When 
the  firm  probity  of  Regulus  submitted  his  pe- 
rishable body  to  be  burned  and  lacerated  by  the 
Carthaginians,  he  well  knew  that  those  re- 
vengeful Barbarians  could  not  torture  his  for- 
titude, his  patriotism,  his  magnanimity.  His 
mind,  guarded  by  such  an  assemblage  and  at- 
tendance of  virtues,  bade  defiance  to  every  as- 
sault. The  mind  of  Regulus  still  triumphed  ; 
and  amidst  the  painful  discerption  of  his  frail 
members,  he  maintained  and  fortified  the  in- 
tegrity of  that  part  of  his  nature  which  properly 
constitutes  the  man,  and  in  which  alone  any 
permanent  happiness  or  misery  can  reside. 

From  the  enthusiasm  naturally  inspired  by 
the  beautiful  and  august  forms  of  benevolence 
and  magnanimity,  the  Stoics  again  returned  to 
the  speculations  of  abstract  philosophy.  In 
every  arrangement  or  combination  of  objects, 
which  can  be  called  a constitution  or  system, 
the  good  of  each  part,  they  observed,  must  be 
relative  and  subordinate  to  that  of  the  whole. 
To  illustrate  in  the  constitution  most  familiar 
to  us,  the  body  of  man,  the  good  of  each  limb 
and  member,  considered  as  something  separate 
and  independent,  consisted  in  preserving  its 
natural  state,  and  in  never  being  subjected  to 
any  fatigue  or  hardship,  to  any  pain  or  uneasi- 
ness. But  considered  as  the  part  of  a system, 
in  the  good  of  which  its  own  is  necessarily  in- 
cluded, this  limb  or  member  must  often  submit 
to  great  inconveniencies.  For  the  sake  of  the 
whole  body,  the  foot  must  often  trample  in  the 


3 The  illustrations  given  by  Cic.  de  Fin. 

4 At>ix»|Tos  £iueei  Svvxarx i,  exv  eig  ft>i$svu  xyaivx  xxtx 
6«i v»)5,  ov  ovx  £<tt < *s ti  ere*  vix> |«*««.  Enchir.  c.  xxv. 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


473 


XL.] 

dirt,  must  often  tread  upon  thorns,  and  some- 
times be  burned,  or  lacerated,  or  even  cut  off, 
when  such  operations  are  requisite  for  the 
safety  of  the  whole  system.  In  refusing  to 
comply,  the  foot  ceases  to  be  a foot ; in  the 
same  manner  do  you  cease  to  be  a man,  in 
shrinking  from  the  hardest  dutie^  required  by 
the  interest  of  society.  But  that  society  itself, 
as  well  as  every  member  which  it  contains,  are 
parts  of  a larger  system,  that  harmonious 
whole,  whose  admirable  order  and  beauty 
evince  the  superintendence  of  infinite  wisdom 
and  goodness.  Under  such  government,  no 
absolute  evil  can  exist;  and  what  appears 
wrong  respecting  particular  parts,  must  neces- 
sarily be  right  respecting  the  whole.  A wise 
man  will  therefore  be  alike  satisfied  with  every 
situation  in  which  he  may  be  placed  ; deeply 
convinced,  that  were  he  acquainted  with  the 
whole  connections  and  dependencies  of  events, 
that  situation  would,  even  to  himself,  appear 
the  most  proper,  that  could  possibly  be  assign- 
ed him.  He  uses,  indeed,  such  means  as  pru- 
dence directs,  to  avert  calamity  ; but  when  that 
is  his  lot,  he  cheerfully  submits  to  the  wise  dis- 
pensation of  Providence.  The  established  or- 
der of  the  universe,  he  knows,  is  not  to  be 
changed  by  the  prayers  of  men.  When  he 
prays  to  the  gods,  it  is  not  with  a view  to  alter 
their  wise  intentions  concerning  him  : he  prays 
that  they  would  show  him  the  hardest  trials 
with  which  he  must  contend,  and  the  severest 
circumstances  in  which  he  must  be  placed : 
that  by  voluntarily  accepting  those  trials,  and 
voluntarily  embracing  those  circumstances,  he 
may  prove  his  confidence  in  their  goodness,  and 
his  perfect  resignation  to  their  sovereign  will.5 

If  our  own  unmerited  misfortunes  ought 
never  to  occasion  us  any  uneasiness,  so  neither 
ought  we  to  be  affected  by  those  of  our  rela- 
tions, our  friends,  or  our  country.  When  ca- 
lamity threatens  connections  so  dear  to  us,  we 
must  exert  ourselves  strenuously  in  their  be- 
half; but  should  our  well-meant  endeavours 
be  frustrated  by  circumstances  not  liable  to  our 
control,  it  would  be  highly  ungraceful  and  im- 
proper to  have  recourse  to  unmanly  lamenta- 
tions. The  same  law  of  propriety  which 
prompts  our  active  exertions  to  the  good  of 
others,  restrains  our  passive  feelings  at  sight  of 
their  distress ; the  former  alone  can  be  useful 
to  them  ; the  latter  would  be  both  hurtful  and 
dishonourable  to  ourselves.  . 

The  Stoical  philosophy  imposed  therefore  an 
absolute  silence  on  the  soft  voice  of  pity,6  as 
well  as  on  the  boisterous  dissonance  of  anger, 
and  on  all  passions  in  general  which  were  re- 
garded as  perturbations  and  diseases  of  the 


5 A yt  iti  <o  Z so  xai  to  i) 

Owoi  jtoS’  o/miv  ei.ui  J'lXTSTsej-'yitSvo;, 

11$  ityl/UXI  T7T  OoJ*IO$  H$e  «sxvo$. 

The  reason  is  subjoined. 

Exv  it  fit)  cStk'j),  tfTTOV  t\]/0/UXI, 

,l  We  ought  to  be  willing  to  obey  the  gods,  since  we  must 
obey  thorn  whether  we  are  willing  or  not.” 

6 Epictetus,  however,  allows  the  nppearance  of  sympa- 
thy with  objects  in  distress,  but  sternlv  forbids  the  reality. 

Mixe1  f*,v  T°*  Xoyoo  fit  S OXVII  TO’/UTTf  f iT$MI  ceuTtt) 

(viz.  the  person  afflicted)  xxv  rvxn  ruvtTrtvttvx'c.xi  too ts^i 
/eir  to i,  fx if  xxi  itwSiv  toviw«ttii/«£»i$.  Epictet.  Enchir. 
c.  zzii. 

3 O 


mind,  that  a wise  man  ought  not  merely  to  ap- 
pease, but  utterly  to  eradicate.  As  they  sup- 
posed their  imaginary  sage  capable  of  attaining 
this  perfection,  they  interred  that  all  duties 
were  alike  easy  to  him.  His  actions  were  con- 
tinually regulated  by  propriety,  and  all  of  them 
therefore  equally  laudable  ; whereas  those  of  a 
fool,  or  one  who  substituted  passion  and  caprice 
in  the  stead  of  reason  and  principle,  were  all 
equally  blameable.  This  doctrine,  which  so 
nearly  resembles  that  of  many  Christian  di- 
vines, “ that  the  greatest  virtues  of  the  hea- 
thens were  but  splendid  vices,”  is  the  source  to 
which  all  the  other  paradoxes  of  the  Stoics 
may  be  traced.  Both  these  Christians  and  the 
Stoics  considered  good  or  bad  actions  as  rela- 
tive only  to  the  cause  which  produces  them, 
the  affection  or  character  from  which  they  pro- 
ceed, not  to  the  consequences  which  flow  from 
them,  the  good  or  bad  effects  which  they  tend 
to  promote.  These  consequences  and  effects, 
it  was  observed  by  the  Stoics,  depended  not  on 
ourselves.  With  regard  to  us,  therefore,  they 
were  altogether  indifferent ; and  as  such,  could 
not  possibly  constitute  any  part  of  merit  or 
demerit,  or  become  the  proper  objects  of  praise 
or  censure. 

The  ignorant  vulgar  indeed,  and  as  such  the 
Stoics  considered  all  those  who  were  unac- 
quainted with  their  philosophy,  allowed  such 
contingent  circumstances  to  influence  their  ap- 
preciation.of  actions  and  characters;  and  thence 
the  extraordinary  confusion  introduced  into  re- 
ligion and  morality.  Of  two  men,  equally  vi- 
cious, the  one  may  be  condemned  to  obscurity, 
and  bereft  of  opportunity  to  exert  his  wicked- 
ness ; the  other  may  be  raised  to  power,  which 
he  abuses,  or  entrusted  with  a sceptre,  which 
becomes  an  iron  rod  in  his  hands.  To  the  bulk 
of  mankind,  the  second  appears  a greater  mon- 
ster than  the  first.  To  the  philosopher,  they 
appear  equally  criminal ; but  the  first  is  a storm 
which  spends  its  rage  in  vacuity  ; the  second 
a cloud,  not  more  tempestuous,  that  destroys 
the  fair  objects  accidentally  exposed  to  its  vio- 
lence. In  the  same  manner  two  men'  may  be 
equally  meritorious,  although  the  one,  from  the 
unfavourable  circumstances  in  which  he  is 
placed,  may  resemble  a clear  stream  rolling 
through  a lonesome  solitude,  while  the  other, 
more  advantageously  situated  with  respect  to 
external  objects,  may  resemble  a beautiful  river 
flowing  through  a populous  valley,  supplying 
the  wants  of  man  and  other  animals,  and  dif- 
fusing abundance  and  pleasure  through  the  ad- 
joining country,  which  it  fertilizes  and  adorns. 

The  injudicious  estimation  of  virtues  and 
vices,  by  the  effects  which  they  tend  to  pro- 
duce, is  the  source  of  that  extravagant  admira- 
tion on  the  one  hand,  and  that  excessive  seve- 
rity on  the  other,  which  universally  character- 
ize the  judgments  of  the  vulgar.  But  a wise 
man,  who  examines  the  first  principles  of  ac- 
tion in  the  human  heart,  will  neither  be  dazzled 
by  the  splendour  of  heroes  and  patriots,  nor 
provoked  to  undue  revenge  against  illustrious 
criminals.7  The  civil  magistrate,  who  is  en- 


7 Ei i/xtix  TrjaxojrTovTOs*  o vStvx  'I'tytiy  oviiv*  faravvd, 
&c.  Enchir.  c.  lxxii. 


474 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


trusted  with  the  interest  of  society,  and  who 
has  that  interest  always  in  view,  must  chiefly 
regard  external  actions,  and  consider  them  as 
sufficient  indications  of  the  inward  affections 
and  character.  It  is  his  business  to  regulate 
the  lives,  not  to  purify  the  hearts,  of  men.  Bat 
we  may  be  assured  that  He,  who  can  penetrate 
deeper  than  an  earthly  judge,  governs  the  mo- 
ral world  by  more  refined  principles,  and  dis- 
penses rewards  and  punishments  according  to 
a more  accurate  standard.1  To  avert  his  an- 
ger, superstition  tells  us  to  repair  the  bad  con- 
sequences of  our  misconduct;  and,  as  this  is 
often  impracticable,  therefore  commands  an 
impossibility  : to  regain  his  approbation,  and 
that  of  our  own  breasts,  philosophy  exhorts  us 
to  fix  our  chief  attention,  not  on  effects,  which 
are  transitory,  but  on  the  cause,  which  is  per- 
manent; to  be  less  anxious  about  wiping  off 
the  stain  of  particular  sins,  than  solicitous  to 
stop  the  source  from  which  they  all  flow. 
When  we  have  accomplished  this  great  pur- 
pose, we  have  reached  the  perfection  of  our 
nature.  For  the  Deity,  who  has  enjoined  vir- 
tue as  our  duty,  has  placed  our  happiness  in 
virtue.  In  performing  the  task  assigned  us, 
we  necessarily  attain  our  reward.2 

■Such  is  the  philosophy  of  the  Stoics,  which, 
beside  containing  several  contradictions  which 
all  the  subtlety  of  the  sect  was  finable  to  re- 
concile, evidently  supposes  a degree  of  perfec- 
tion far  beyond  the  weakness  of  humanity. 
The  system  of  Epicurus  is  not  less  artificial  in 
its  texture,  and,  though  humbler  in  its  Origin, 
is  equally  magnificent  in  its  conclusions.3  Like 
the  lowly  plant,  which,  at  first  feebly  emerging 
from  the  ground,  gradually  rises  to  a stately 
tree  towering  to  the  sky,  the  philosophy  of 
Epicurus,  at  first  restricting  the  primary  ob- 
jects of  natural  desire  and  aversion  to  bodily 
pleasure  and  pain,  by  degrees  expands  itself 
into  the  fairest  forms  of  virtue,  and  enforces 
the  severest  lessons  of  duty.  That  pleasure 
and  pain  are  the  universal  objects  of  desire  and 
aversion  is  a truth,  he  observed,  powerfully  at- 
tested by  the  consenting  voice  of  all  animated 
nature.  Not  orrly  men,  but  children,  and  even 
brute  animals, could  they  emit  articulate  sounds, 
would  declare  and  cry  out,  that  pleasure  is  the 
sovereign  good,  and  pain  the  greatest  evil.4 
That  they  are,  not  only  the  greatest  and  most 
universal,  but  the  sole  ultimate  objects  of  de- 
sire and  aversion,  Epicurus  endeavoured  to 
prove  by  analyzing  our  passions,  and  actions, 
and  virtues,  all  of  which,  he  pretended,  had,  in 
the  last  instance,  nothing  farther  in  view  than 
to  procure  bodily  pleasure,  and  avoid  bodily 
pain.  If  we  desire  power  and  wealth,  it  is  be- 
cause power  and  wealth  furnish  us  with  innu- 
merable means  of  enjoyment.  Sensible  that 
the  good-will  of  the  society  in  which  we  live, 
is  necessary  to  our  security,  we  strive  assidu- 
ously to  acquire  it,  cultivate  friendship,  exer- 


L Epictet.  Enchir.  c.  xxxviii. 

Q.nod  si  ita  est,  ut  neque  quisquam,  nisi  bonus  vir,  et 
omnes  boni  beati  sini  ; quid  philosophin  magis  colendum, 
aut  quid  est  virtute  divinius.  Cicero  de  Fin.  1.  iii.  ad  fin. 

3 Diogen.  Laert.  in  Aristip.  et.  Rpicur. 

4 Cicero  de  Finibus,  1.  i.  c.  ix.  et  passim. 


[Chap. 

cise  benevolence,  and  practise  with  diligence 
and  alacrity  all  those  social  virtues  essential  to 
the  public  safety,  in  which  our  own  is  included. 
When  it  is  necessary  to  reject  a present  plea- 
sure, in  order  to  attain  a greater  in  future,  tem- 
perance must  moderate  the  eagerness  of  de- 
sire ; and  when  it  is  necessary  to  encounter  a 
present  pain,  in  order  to  avoid  a greater  in  fu 
ture,  fortitude  must  control  tne  dictates  of  pu 
sillanimity.  Justice  teaches  us  to  abstain  from 
injuring  others,  as  the  only  condition  on  which 
we  can  escape  being  injured  by  them.  And 
prudence,  which,  according  to  Epicurus,  is  the 
queen  of  all  the  virtues,  and  to  which  justice, 
temperance,  and  fortitude  are  barely  handmaids 
and  attendants,  invariably  points  out  to  us,  and 
enforces,  that  course  of  action  which  is  most 
conducive  to  our  private  comfort  and  happi- 
ness. This  course  of  action  is  acknowledged 
by  all  moralists  to  consist  in  the  practice  of  vir- 
tue ; so  that  virtue,  according  to  Epicurus,  is 
the  only  true  wisdom,  and  vice  the  most  short- 
sighted levity  and  folly. 

To  illustrate  this  doctrine,  he, observed,  that 
though  all  the  modifications  of  hope  and  fear 
ultimately  refer  to  the  sensations  of  bodily 
pleasure  or  pain,  yet  the  pleasures  and  pains  of 
the  mind  are  infinitely  more  important  than 
their  originals.  The  body  can  only  feel  the 
sensation  of  the  present  moment,  which  can 
never  be  of  great  importance;  whereas  the 
mind  recollects  the  past,  and  anticipates  the  fu- 
ture. If  our  mental  frame,  therefore,  be  pro- 
perly adjusted,  if  our  sentiments  and  judgments 
be  duly  regulated,  it  is  a matter  of  little  mo- 
ment how  our  bodies  be  disposed  ; we  may 
despise  its  pleasures,  and  even  set  its  pains  at 
defiance.  If  pain  be  violent,  experience  teaches 
us  that  it  must  be  short ; it  cannot  be  con- 
tinued long  without  becoming  moderate,  and 
admitting  many  intervals  of  ease ; besides, 
death  is  always  within  our  reach,  and  ready 
at  a call  to  deliver  us,  whenever  life  becomes  a 
burden. 

By  this  kind  of  philosophical  chemistry,  Epi- 
curus extracted  from  the  grossest  materials,  the 
most  sublime  principles  of  wisdom  and  virtue. 
His  philosophy  imposed  absolute  silence  on  the 
passions ; since  no  sttite,  and  therefore  not  the 
little  republic  of  man,  can  be  happy  in  sedition. 
In  this  tranquillity  of  mind,  he  boasted  a felicity 
which  external  pleasures  might  vary,  but  could 
nc»t  increase;  and  his  security  of  enjoyment  he 
asserted  to  be  equally  firm  and  unalterable  with 
that  of  the  gods,  since  the  most  unbounded 
duration  could  not  afford  greater  happiness  than 
arose  from  reflecting,  that  all  our  pleasures  and 
pains  are  confined  within  a narrow  span.  Hav- 
ing adopted  the  atomic  philosophy  of  Democri- 
tus, he  rendered  it  subservient  to  his  morality. 
The  phenomena  of  nature,  he  fancied  might  be 
explained  by  the  figures  and  motions  of  the 
small  particles  of  matter;  and  as  the  universe 
arose,  so  did  it  continue,  without  the  inter- 
ference of  the  gods,  those  celestial  beings,  who, 
enjoying  complete  happiness  in  themselves,  and 
totally  independent  on  the  actions  of  men,  are 
neither  pleased  with  our  virtues,  nor  offended 
by  our  crimes.  Confiding  in  the  certainty  of 


HISTORY  OF  GREECE. 


475 


XL.J 

these  speculations,  he  trampled  under  foot  the 
superstitious  terrors  of  the  vulgar,  and  fortified 
his  mind  against  the  fear  of  death.5 

Such  were  the  tenets  of  Ep;curus,than  whom 
no  philosopher  was  ever  more  admired  and 
beloved  by  his  disciples,  or  more  cordially  at- 
tached to  them  in  affectionate  esteem.  He  is 
described  as  a man  of  the  most  amiable  dispo- 
sition, of  great  gentleness  and  humanity  ; and, 
like  Eudoxus,  who  preceded  him,  and  who  in- 
culcated the  same  loose  doctrines  of  religion 
and  morality,  extremely  temperate  with  regard 
to  pleasure ; a circumstance  which  failed  not  to 
add  much  reputation  to  his  philosophy.  In  his 
character,  the  firm  and  manly,  were  united  with 
the  gentler,  virtues.  When  grievously  afflicted 
with  the  stone,  he  bore  the  agony  incident  to 
that  disease  with  the  greatest  constancy  ; and  in 
the  last  day  of  his  life,  when  his  pain  had  reach- 
ed a degree  beyond  which  he  could  conceive 
none  greater,  wrote  to  his  friend  Hermachus,6 
and  recommended  to  him  the  children  of  his 
favourite  disciple  Metrodorus,  assuring  him  at 
the  same  time,  that  as  to  himself,  he  still  was 
happy,  since  the  smart  of  his  bodily  sufferings 
was  more  than  compensated  by  the  pleasures 
of  his  mind,  and  particularly  by  the  agreeable 
remembrance  of  his  discoveries;  a declaration, 
however  inconsistent  it  may  be  deemed  with 
his  opinions,  highly  honourable  to  the  man. 

Such  were  the  philosophical  systems  respect- 
ing life  and  happiness,  by  which  the  more  libe- 
ral part  of  mankind  long  affected  to  regulate 
their  sentiments  and  conduct.  The  excessive 
scepticism  of  Pyrrho,  which  none  could  reduce 
to  practice  without  meriting  the  charge  of  in- 
sanity, seems  never,  even  in  theory,  to  have 
had  much  vogue  among  t*he  speculatists  of  an- 
tiquity. In  matters  of  doubtful  evidence,  in- 
deed, a prudent  suspension  of  judgment  had 
been  recommended  by  Socrates,  enforced  by 
Plato,  and  extended  to  subjects  of  every  kind 
by  his  followers  Arcesilas  and  Carneades.7 8 
These  philosophers,  however,  in  denying  cer- 
tainty, still  admitted  probability,  which  they 
thought  sufficient  for  regulating  our  judgments 
and  actions.  But  the  extravagant  Pyrrho  was 
dogmatical  only  in  maintaining,  that  no  one  opi- 
nion was  more  probablethan  another.  The  non- 
existence of  sensible  qualities,  which  had  been 
proved  by  Democritus, 8 Protagoras,9  and  Aris- 
tippus,10 and  which  is  commonly  supposed  a 

5 Lucretius,  passim. 

6 Viil.  Diogen.  Laert.  1.  x.  sect.  ix.  et  Cic.  de  Finibus,  I. 
ii.  c.  xxx.  et  seq. 

7 RncnuseSncrate8  and  Plato  doubted  some  things,  these 
philosophers  doubted  all.  Vid.  Cicer.  Acad.  1.  i.  Thev 
formed,  what  was  called,  the  New  Academv,  which  held 
the  same  tenets  with  the  ancient,  only  asserting  them  still 
less  pos  tively. 

8 See  Sextus  Empiricus,  p.  309. 

9 Pvrrhon.  Hypot.  I.  i.  sect.  219. 

10  Prmterea  quoniam  nequeant  sine  luce  colores 

Esje,  ncque  in  luce  exisiant  primordia  rerum 

Scire  licet,  qutirn  si n t nullo  velata  colore. 

****** 


modem  discovery,  because  the  contrary  opinion 
obtained  among  the  schoolmen,  probably  led 
Pyrrho  to  deny  the  reality  likewise  of  moral 
qualities  and  distinctions.  As  heat  and  cold, 
tastes  and  colours,  had  no  external  existence  in 
bodies,  and  were  mere  ideas  of  the  mind  ; in 
the  same  manner,  beauty  and  deformity,  virtue 
and  vice,  happiness  and  misery,  had  no  real  or 
permament  cause,  but  depended,  like  every 
thing  else,  on  relation  or  comparison.  Upon 
this  principle,  “ that  all  was  relative,”11  Pyrrho 
established  topics  for  enabling  his  sect  readily 
to  dispute  the  truth  of  all  positions  whatever, 
and  which  were  reduced  to  ten,12  probably  in 
opposition  to  the  ten  categories  of  the  dogmat- 
ists. The  great  patron  of  Pyrrhonism  boasts, 
that  while  other  philosophers  wandered  in  pur- 
suit of  a false  and  artificial  happiness,  Pyrrho 
alone  had  discovered  the  true  and  natural  one, 
and  that,  by  an  accident  similar  to  the  pain- 
ter’s,13 who,  having  finished  the  picture  of  a dog 
all  to  the  foam  of  his  mouth,  could  not,  after  re- 
peated trials,  satisfy  himself  in  painting  this  last 
circumstance.  Enraged  by  disappointment,  he 
at  length  dashed  against  the  canvas  the  spunge 
with  which  he  wiped  his  pencils.  Accident 
produced  the  effect  which  he  had  vainly  sought 
from  art ; and  the  foam  was  represented  so 
naturally,  that  the  picture,  though  admirable 
in  other  respects,  was  chiefly  admired  on  this 
account.  Fatigued  by  many  painful  researches 
into  the  nature  of  truth  and  virtue,  Pyrrho,  in 
the  same  manner,  had  discovered  that  truth  and 
virtue  were  nowhere  to  be  found ; a discovery 
which  produced  that  moderation  and  indisturb- 
<mce,14  that  happy  indifference,  or  rather  perfect 
insensibility,  which  is  as  naturally  attended  by 
happiness,  as  a body  is  followed  by  its  shadow.15 

In  concluding  this  work  with  the  scepticism 
of  Pyrrho,  it  is  proper  to  observe,  for  the  honour 
of  Greece,  that  though  the  doctrines  which 
that  philosopher  inculcated  can  have  no  other 
tendency  than  to  unhinge  the  moral  principles, 
to  darken  and  perplex  the  mind  ; yet  those  sys- 
tems of  his  contemporaries,  or  predecessors, 
which  have  been  more  particularly  explained 
in  the  present  history,  amidst  all  their  appa- 
rent contradictions,  uniformly  afford  such  views 
of  nature  and  of  man,  as  awaken  and  cherish 
our  love  for  both.  Established  on  firm  grounds 
of  reason,  they  evince  the  indissoluble  union  of 
interest  with  duty,  display  the  beauty  of  virtue 
in  its  brightest  charms,  and  unmask  the  hideous 
spectres  of  fancy  and  superstition. 

Sed  ne  forte  pules  solo  spoliata  co’ore 

Corpora  prima  manere;  etiam  secreta  teporis 

Sunt,  ac  frigoris  omnino,  &c.  Lucretius,  I.  ii. 

It  nxvnt  7TfO{  ti,  Sextus  Empiric. 

12  Sextus  Empiric.  Hypothet.  Pyrrhon.  1.  i.  c.  xiv.  et 
Diogen.  Laert.  in  Pyrrhon. 

13  Sextus  Empiric.  I.  i.  c.  xii.  Sextus  calls  the  painter 
Apelles.  Pliny,  1.  xxxv.  c.  xx.  ascribes  this  accident  to 
Protogenes,  and  a similar  one  to  Nealces  in  painting  a horse 

14  Aro»g*^ia.  Sextus  Empiric. 

15  Sextus  Empiric,  ubi  supra,  et  passim. 


INDEX 


A 

Abdelerminus,  story  of,  rejected,  436.  (Note.) 

Abe , city  of,  destroyed  by  the  Persians,  123. 

Abstraction , faculty  of,  not  unknown  to  the  ancients, 
362. 

Accent , in  language,  its  use  and  varieties,  70. 

Achaia  conquered,  34.  Brief  political  history  of,  62. 
Wisdom  of  its  laws,  140.  Revolutions,  342. 

Achilles,  opinions  concerning  his  shield,  31.  (Note.) 

Acuphis,  his  successful  negotiation  with  Alexander, 
449. 

Ada,  the  government  of  Caria  committed  to  her  by 
Alexander,  430. 

Adimanthus,  his  character,  257.  Is  taken  prisoner 
by  Lysander,  259. 

Adimantus, his  violent  opposition  to  Themistocles,  125. 

Adonis,  festival  of,  at  Athens,  described,  223. 

Adrastus , a fugitive  Phrygian  prince,  his  history,  85. 

Adultery,  how  punished  during  the  heroic  ages  of 
Greece,  28. 

JEgina,  island  of,  described,  111.  Fleet  of,  destroy- 
ed by  Themistocles,  ib. 

uEgos  Potamos,  naval  engagement  there,  259. 

uEneas,  probably  contemporary  with  Dido,  136. 
(Note.)  « 

^Eschines,  the  philosopher,  his  dialogues,  274. 

the  orator,  his  embassy  to  Peloponnesus, 

388,  390.  Quarrel  between  him  and  Demosthenes, 
392.  His  speech  to  Philip  of  Macedon,  ib.  Is 
corrupted  by  Philip’s  ambassadors,  394.  His  speech 
to  Philip  on  another  embassy,  395.  Gives  an  ac- 
count of  his  embassy  to  the  Athenians,  396.  As- 
sumes the  merit  of  softening  Philip  toward  the 
Phocians,  399.  Is  prosecuted  at  the  persuasion  of 
Demosthenes,  404.  Is  sent  as  deputy  to  the  Am- 
phictyonic  council,  414.  Inveighs  against  the 
Locrians,  415.  Accuses  Ctesiphon  for  his  decree  in 
honour  of  Demosthenes,  446.  His  banishment,  ib. 

jEschyl.us,  the  tragedian,  distinguishes  himself  at  the 
battle  of  Marathon,  108.  Was  the  father  of  Greek 
tragedy,  172. 

jE sop,  his  fables,  169. 

jEtolians,  engage  as  auxiliaries  to  the  Heraclidse,  34. 
Establish  themselves  in  Peloponnesus,  ib.  Are 
ravaged  by  the  Athenians,  203.  Singular  mode  of 
fighting  the  invaders,  204. 

Agamemnon  commands  the  Grecian  armament  col- 
lected against  Troy,  21.  Takes  and  destroys  that 
city,  22.  How  he  obtained  the  pre-eminence  over 
the  other  Grecian  princes,  27.  His  death,  32. 

Agesilaus,  his  character,  and  pretensions  to  the 
crown  of  Sparta,  299.  Is  declared  king,  ib.  Takes 
the  command  of  the  Grecian  forces  in  Asia,  300. 
His  ill  treatment  of  Lysander,  ib.  His  address  in 
counteracting  the  treachery  of  Tissaphernes,  ib. 
His  expedition  to  Phrygia,  301.  His  military  pre- 
parations, and  martial  exercises,  ib.  Defeats  the 
Persians,  302.  Negotiation  between  him  and  Tith- 
raustes  for  the  indemnity  of  Lydia,  ib.  Is  entrusted 
with  the  command  of  the  Grecian  fleet,  ib.  Is  re- 
called, 305.  He  defeats  the  Thessalians  on  his 
return,  ib.  Defeats  the  confederate  army  at  Co- 
ronaea,  307.  His  Asiatic  victories  prejudicial  to 
Sparta,  313.  Allows  his  colleague  Cleombrotus  to 
conduct  the  war  in  Breotia,  321.  Is  supposed  to 


have  been  privy  to  the  attempt  of  Sphodrias  on  the 
Piraeus  of  Athens,  321.  His  invasions  of  Boeotia, 
322.  Acts  as  the  Spartan  deputy  in  the  Grecian 
congress,  324.  Debates  between  him  and  Epami- 
nondas,  ib.  Evades  the  law  of  Lycurgus  with  re- 
spect to  the  troops  vanquished  at  Leuctra,  128. 
His  ineffectual  attempts  to  restore  the  Spartan 
authority  in  Arcadia,  332.  His  vigilant  exertions 
on  the  invasion  of  Laconia  by  the  Thebans,  333. 
Negotiates  a defensive  treaty  with  Athens,  334. 
His  death  and  character,  350. 

Agesipolis,  king  of  Sparta,  besieges  and  takes  the  city 
of  Mantinaea,  315.  Takes  Torona,  317.  Dies,  ib. 

Agis,  king  of  Sparta,  commands  the  Spartan  forces 
at  the  renewal  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  215.  Con- 
cludes a truce  with  the  Argives,  ib.  Battle  of 
Mantinaea,  217.  His  expedition  into  Attica,  231. 
His  wife  Timea  seduced  by  Alcibiades,  242.  In- 
vades the  Elians,  277.  His  death,  299. 

Agoracritus,  his  celebrated  statue  of  Venus,  274. 

Agriculture  taught  in  Attica  by  Cecrqps,  13.  How 
practised  in  Greece  during  the  heroic  ages,  27,  30. 

Agrigentum,  by  whom  founded,  139.  Its  magnifi- 
cence and  prosperity,  278.  Siege  of,  by  the  Car- 
thaginians, 279.  Miserable  fate  of  the  Agrigen- 
tines,  ib. 

Ajax,  the  son  of  Telamon,  his  presumption,  and  how 
punished,  24.  (Note.) 

Alcaeus,  the  ancient  Greek  poet,  his  character,  76. 

Alcander,  becomes  a supporter  of  the  institutions  of 
Lycurgus,  42.  (Note.) 

Alcibiades,  his  birth  and  education,  213.  Attachment 
between  him  and  Socrates,  214.  His  character,  ib. 
His  deceitful  conduct  toward  the  Spartan  ambas- 
sadors, 214.  Persuades  the  Athenians  to  enter 
into  the  Argive  alliance,  215.  Persuades  the  Ar- 
gives to  break  their  truce,  216.  His  ambitious  views, 
221.  His  debate  with  Nicias,  respecting  the  expe- 
dition to  Sicily,  ib.  His  armament  sails,  223.  He 
takes  Catana,  224.  Recalled  to  Athens,  ib.  Is 
accused  of  impiety  by  Thessalus,  225.  Flies  to 
Sparta,  226,  231.  Surprises  the  Athenian  partisans 
in  Chios,  241.  Seduces  the  wife  of  king  Agis,  242. 
Takes  refuge  with  Tissaphernes,  ib.  Alienates 
that  general  from  the  Spartan  interests,  ib.  Con- 
spires against  the  democracy  in  Athens,  243.  Frus- 
trates the  negotiation  between  the  Athenian  am- 
bassadors and  Tissaphernes,  244.  Is  invited  by 
Thrasybulus  to  the  camp  at  Samos,  245.  His  ad- 
dress to  his  countrymen,  ib.  His  message  to  the 
tyrants,  246.  Is  recalled  to  Athens,  ib.  Captures 
the  whole  Peloponnesian  fleet,  247.  Takes  Byzan- 
tium, 249.  His  triumphant  return  to  Athens,  ib. 
Conducts  the  Eleusinian  festival,  250.  His  fleet 
defeated  during  his  absence,  by  Lysander,  253.  He 
is  impeached  by  Thrasybulus,  and  disgraced,  ib. 
His  advice  for  the  security  of  the  Athenian  fleet 
rejected,  258.  Retires  to  Phrygia,  265.  Manner 
of  his  death,  266. 

Alcidas,  the  Spartan  naval  commander,  sent  to  the 
relief  of  Mitylene,  his  imprudent  conduct,  196,  199. 
His  engagement  with  N-costratus  at  Corcyra,  201. 

Alexander,  king  of  Macedon,  his  character,  129.  Is 
employed  by  Mardonius  to  treat  with  the  Atheni- 
ans, ib. 


INDEX. 


477 


Alexander  the  Great,  his  birth,  374.  His  behaviour 
to  the  Persian  ambassadors  at  his  father’s  court, 
, 401.  Saves  the  life  of  his  father  Philip,  413.  Routs 
the  Thebans,  418.  Quarrels  with  his  father,  and 
takes  refuge  among  the  Illyrians,  422.  Is  recon- 
ciled, ib.  Difficulties  attending  his  accession,  423. 
Is  acknowledged  general  of  the  Greeks,  ib.  His 
interview  with  Diogenes,  ib.  Defeats  the  Thra- 
cians, 424.  Passes  the  Danube,  ib.  Is  assisted  by 
Langarus  the  Agrian,  ib.  Defeats  Glaucias,  king 
of  the  Taulantii,  425.  Revolt  and  destruction  of 
Thebes,  ib.  His  acts  of  forbearance  there,  426. 
Receives  congratulatory  embassies  from  the  Gre- 
cian states,  ib.  Prepares  for  his  eastern  expedi- 
tion, ib.  Prepares  to  pass  the  Granicus,  427.  Bat- 
tle there,  428.  His  personal  gallantry,  ib.  His 
prudent  humanity  after  the  engagement,  429.  Be- 
sieges Halicarnassus,  ib.  The  town  taken  and  de- 
molished, 430.  His  judicious  plan  of  warfare,  ib. 
The  arts  by  which  he  secured  his  conquests,  ib. 
His  march  from  Phaselis  to  Perga,  431.  He  chas- 
tises the  duplicity  of  the  citizens  of  Aspendus,  ib. 
Enters  Phrygia,  ib.  Fulfils  the  oracle  relating  to 
the  Gordian  knot,  432.  Passes  the  northern  gate 
of  Cilicia,  433.  His  sickness  at  Tarsus,  ib.  Dis- 
position of  his  army  previous  to  the  battle  of  Issus, 
434.  Defeats  Darius,  ib.  His  generous  treatment 
of  Darius’s  captive  family,  435.  His  moderation 
increases  with  his  good  fortune,  ib.  Receives  an 
amicable  embassy  from  Tyre,  436.  Besieges  Tyre, 
ib.  Takes  the  c.ty,  433.  Is  wounded  at  the  siege 
of  Gaza,  439.  His  easy  conquest  of  Egypt,  ib. 
Founds  the  city  of  Alexandria,  ib.  Visits  the  ora- 
cle of  Jupiter  Ammon,  ib.  Foundation  of  his  claim 
to  being  the  son  of  Jupiter,  440.  (Note.)  He  march- 
es into  Assyria,  ib.  Battle  of  Arbela,  ib.  His 
acquisitions  by  the  defeat  of  Darius,  442.  Pursues 
Darius,  443.  Pursues  the  murderers  of  Darius,  444. 
Besieges  the  Sogdian  fortress,  ib.  Reduces  it, 
and  marries  Roxana,  the  daughter  of  Oxyartes, 
445.  Surrender  of  the  fortress  of  Chorienes,  ib. 
His  prudent  regulation  of  his  conquests,  446.  Un- 
dertakes his  Indian  expedition,  448.  His  difficult 
passage  over  the  Paropamisus,  ib.  Reduces  mount 
Aornos,  449.  Receives  the  submission  ofNysa,  ib. 
Passes  the  Indus,  450.  His  passage  over  the  Hy- 
daspes  disputed  by  Porus,  ib.  The  passage  effect- 
ed, 451.  Defeats  Porus,  and  treats  him  generous- 
ly, 452.  Founds  Nicaea  and  Bucephalia,  ib.  Passes 
the  Acesines  and  Hydraotes,  ib.  Besieges  and 
takes  Sangala,  ib.  The  eastern  bounds  of  his 
conquests,  453.  His  life  endangered  at  the  siege  of 
the  Mallian  fortress,  454.  Marches  through  the 
Gedrosian  desert,  ib.  Punishes  the  l.centious 
cruelty  of  Oleander  and  Sitalus,  ib.  Romantic 
account  of  his  march  through  Carmania,  455.  Pun- 
ishes the  revolt  of  his  governors  of  Babylon,  Per- 
sepolis,  and  Susa,  ib  Improves  the  internal  state 
of  his  conquests,  ib.  Sends  vessels  to  explore 
the  Persian  and  Arabian  gulfs,  456.  Founds  a 
city  of  retreat  for  his  superannuated  soldiers,  ib. 
Discharges  the  debts  of  his  army,  ib.  Promotes 
intermarriages  with  the  Asiatics,  ib.  His  immo- 
derate grief  for  the  death  of  Hephsestion,  457.  Re- 
duces the  Cossaeans,  ib.  Arts  practised  to  pre- 
vent his  return  to  Babylon,  ib.  His  death,  459.  His 
character,  ib.  His  account  of  his  father  and  him- 
self, 461.  The  division  of  his  conquests,  462. 

Alexander , king  of  Thessaly,  his  character,  333.  His 
treacherous  seizure  of  Pelopidas,  ib.  Anecdotes 
of  Pelopidas  during  his  confinement  with  him,  310 
Battle  of  Cynoscephalae,  345.  Is  defeated  by  the 
Thebans,  346. 

, the  son  of  ^Eropus,  his  treachery  detect- 
ed, 432. 

Alexandria,  city  of,  founded  by  Alexander  the  Great, 
439. 

Alphabet,  Phoenician,  introduced  into  Greece,  13. 

Alyaltes,  king  of  Lydia,  his  depredations  on  the  Mi- 
lesians, 83.  Concludes  a peace  with  them,  ib.  His 
reign,  ib. 


Amasis,  king  of  Egypt,  his  character,  94. 

Amazons  15.  (Note.) 

Ampheia,  a Messenian  city,  seized  by  the  Spartans, 
50. 

Amphictyonic  council,  origin  of  the,  15.  Its  authority 
extended,  36.  Conduct  of,  on  the  temple  of  Del- 
phi being  plundered  by  the  Crisseans,  63.  Sum- 
mary history  of,  951.  Decree  of,  issued  against  the 
Phocians,  375  and  399.  And  against  Sparta,  375. 
Philip  declared  general  of  the  Amphictyons,  413. 
They  destroy  the  Amphissean  plantations  on  the 
Cirrhean  plain,  416. 

Amphion , the  Grecian  bard,  who,  72. 

Amphipolis,  city  of,  its  revolt  from  the  Athenians, 
210.  Battle  of,  211.  The  city  joins  the  Olynthian 
confederacy,  371.  Is  besieged  by  Philip  of  Mace- 
don,  372.  Is  taken  and  annexed  to  Macedon,  ib. 

Amphisseans  accused,  for  cultivating  the  Cirrhean 
plain,  415.  They  attack  the  Amphictyons,  ib. 
Amphissa  taken  by  Philip  of  Macedon,  416. 

Amusements  of  the  Greeks  during  the  heroic  ages,  31. 

Amyntas  II.  king  of  Macedonia,  dethroned  by  Bar- 
dyllis,  and  restored  by  the  Spartans,  366. 

Amyntas,  son  of  Philip,  his  pretensions  to  the  throne 
of  Macedonia,  423. 

Anacreon,  the  poet,  his  character,  76. 

Anaxagoras,  the  first  Grecian  philosopher  who  en- 
tertained rational  ideas  of  the  Deity,  141,  (Note.) 
169.  His  doctrines  counteracted  by  the  refine 
ments  of  the  Sophists,  ib.  His  accusation  and 
banishment,  188. 

Anaxander,  the  Spartan  general,  defeated  by  Aris- 
tomenes,  55. 

Anderica  settled  by  the  Eretrian  prisoners,  108. 

Androcles,  joint  king  of  Messenia,  his  contest  with 
his  associate  Antiochus,  50.  Obtains  the  province 
of  Hyamia  from  the  Spartan  conquerors,  53. 

Anorppharetus,  the  Spartan  commander  under  Pau- 
sanias,  his  refractory  conduct,  133. 

Antalcidas,  his  character,  310.  His  successful  nego- 
tiations, ib.  Rouses  the  jealousy  of  Artaxerxes 
against  the  Athenians,  312.  Reduces  the  Grecian 
states  to  the  terms  dictated  by  Artaxerxes,  ib. 
Assists  at  a congress  of  the  Grecian  states,  340. 

Antiochus,  exposes  himself  to  a defeat  by  Lysander, 
253. 

Antipater,  is  entrusted  by  Alexander  with  the  care 
of  Macedon  and  Greece,  during  his  Eastern  expe- 
dition, 426.  Checks  the  commotions  in  Greece, 
446.  Is  ordered  to  join  his  master  with  new  levies, 
456. 

Antiphon,  the  orator,  his  character,  243. 

Antiphon,  an  Athenian  incendiary,  is  employed  by 
Philip  of  Macedon  to  burn  the  Athenian  docks, 

413.  Is  detected  by  Demosthenes,  and  punished, 

414. 

Antisthenes,  of  Athens,  the  great  lessons  of  his  phi- 
losophy, 274. 

Aornos,  mount,  reduced  by  Alexander,  449. 

Apelles,  his  eminence  as  a painter,  his  works,  464. 

Apollo,  his  oracle  at  Delphi,  33.  Statue  of  Apollo 
Belvidere  described,  180.  Abaean  temple  of,  burn- 
ed, 395. 

Apollo,  the  Amyclean,  account  of  the  throne  of,  177. 

Apollodorus,  the  Athenian  painter,  the  first  who 
knew  the  force  of  light  and  shade,  357. 

Apollodorus , governor  of  Babylon,  his  arts  to  prevent 
Alexander  from  returning  to  that  city,  457. 

Apollonides,  the  Olynthian,  banished  by  the  intrigues 
of  Philip,  339. 

Aracus,  appointed  to  command  the  Spartan  fleet,  253. 

Arbela,  buttle  of,  440. 

Arcadia,  situation  of  that  country,  and  character  of 
its  inhabitants,  61.  State  of,  at  the  era  of  the 
peace  of  Antalcidas,  314.  National  character  of 
the  Arcadians,  337.  Are  defeated  by  Archidamus, 
333.  Arcadia  ravaged  by  the  Spartans,  and  the 
Achaeans,  342.  A peace  concluded  with  Athens, 
343.  The  Arcadians  seize  Olympia,  and  celebrate 
the  games,  346.  They  plunder  the  Olympic  trea- 
sure, ib. 


478 


INDEX. 


Archelaus  I.  kiag  of  Macedon,  his  history  and  cha- 
racter, 366. 

Arckidamus,  king  of  Sparta,  his  pacific  advice,  187. 
Is  appointed  to  conduct  the  war,  190.  Leads  his 
army  into  Attica,  ib. 

Arckidamus , son  of  Agesilaus,  commands  the  Spar- 
tan forces  sent  against  the  Arcadians,  337.  Defeats 
them  at  Midea,  338.  His  speech,  on  the  peace  with 
Thebes,  344.  Defeats  the  attempt  of  Epaminondas 
to  surprise  the  city  of  Sparta,  348.  Endeavours  to 
revive  the  Spartan  power  in  the  Peloponnesus, 
377.  Aims  at  the  temple  at  Delphi,  395.  Raises 
an  army  for  that  purpose,  396. 

Archilochus,  the  poet,  memoirs  of,  74.  His  bitter 
revenge  against  Neobule  and  her  father,  ib.  Cha- 
racter of  his  poetry,  75.  Is  banished  Paros,  ib. 
Recovers  credit  at  the  Olympic  games,  ib.  Ho- 
nours paid  him  on  his  return  to  Paros,  76. 

Architecture,  rude  state  of,  in  the  heroic  ages  of 
Greece,  31.  The  Doric  and  Ionic  orders  of,  where 
invented,  176. 

Arclions , commencement  of  the  magistracy  of,  at 
Athens,  in  the  stead  of  kings,  35.  Their  number, 
office,  and  rank,  164. 

Areopagus,  court  of,  at  Athens,  described,  98,  164. 

Arginussce,  battle  of,  255. 

Argonautic  expedition  undertaken,  15.  The  object 
of  this  adventure,  16. 

Argos,  first  settled  by  Danaus,  13.  Contests  between 
the  citizens,  and  those  of  the  dependent  towns,  62. 
War  with  Sparta,  89.  Intestine  commotions  in  the 
republic  of,  158.  The  town  of  Mycense  destroyed, 
159.  Conduct  of  the  Argives  during  the  Pelopon- 
nesian war,  212.  The  Argive  alliance,  213.  1 he 

Argives  take  arms  on  the  renewal  of  the  Pelopon- 
nesian war,  215  Conclude  a truce,  ib.  The  truce 
broken,  216.  Tumult  at  Argos,  217. 

Arioeus,  succeeds  to  the  command  of  Cyrus’s  army, 
237.  Concludes  a truce  with  Artaxerxes,  ib.  Is 
detached  from  the  Grecian  allies,  ib. 

Aristceus,  commands  the  Corinthian  auxiliaries,  186. 
Is  taken  by  the  Athenians  and  put  to  death,  194. 

Aristagoras,  of  Melitus,  instigates  the  lonians  to 
revolt  against  the  Persian  government,  97.  His 
negotiations  at  Sparta,  ib.  Applies  to  the  Athe- 
nians for  assistance,  98, 100.  The  remainder  of  his 
history,  and  death,  101. 

Aristide y,  his  generous  deference  to  Miltiades,  107. 
Comparison  between  him  and  Themistocles,  110. 
Their  rivalship,  ib.  He  is  banished,  ib.  Returns  to 
the  Grecian  fleet  before  the  battle  off  Salamis,  126. 
His  speech  to  Mardonius,  130.  Is  entrusted  with 
the  finances  of  the  confederated  Greek  forces,  152. 
His  death  and  character,  153. 

, a Theban  painter,  his  great  power  of 

expression,  353. 

Aristocrates,  king  of  Arcadia,  professes  to  assist  the 
Messenians  against  the  Spartans,  57.  Deserts 
them,  ib.  His  second  treachery,  and  punishment, 
59. 

Aristodemus,  the  Messenian,  devotes  his  daughter  to 
death,  in  obedience  to  oracular  demand,  52.  Kills 
her  himself,  53.  Becomes  king,  and  wages  suc- 
cessful war  against  the  Spartans,  ib.  Kills  him- 
self, ib. 

Aristodemus,  an  Athenian  player,  employed  by  Philip 
of  Macedon  to  cultivate  his  interest  at  Athens,  390. 
His  embassy  to  Philip,  ib.  Is  sent  again,  391. 

Aristomenes,  is  saluted  king  of  Messenia  by  the  army, 
55.  His  expedition  to  the  city  of  Sparta,  ib.  His 
repeated  successes  against  the  Spartans,  ib.  Is 
defeated  at  the  Trenches,  57.  Defends  the  fortress 
of  Eira,  ib.  Is  taken  prisoner,  ib.  His  escape,  58. 
Is  surprised  by  the  Spartans,  ib.  Abandons  Eira, 
59.  Is  kindly  received  by  the  Arcadians,  ib.  His 
travels,  death,  and  character,  60. 

Aristophanes,  a declared  enemy  to  Socrates,  172. 
Nature  of  his  comedies  described,  172.  Ridicules 
Cleon,  207.  His  comedy  of  the  Clouds,  the  remote 
cause  of  the  prosecution  of  Socrates,  269. 

Aristotle , his  distinctions  of  style  in  writing,  275. 


(Note.)  Inquiry  into  Plato’s  doctrine  of  ideas,  363. 
(Note.)  Presents  made  him  by  Alexander,  465.  His 
moral  and  political  works,  ib.  His  philosophy,  466. 
His  logic,  ib.  His  great  opportunities  of  improve- 
ment, ib.  His  death,  467.  Tenets  of  the  Peripa- 
tetic school,  ib.  Estimate  and  fate  of  his  phi- 
losophy, 470. 

Armenia,  passage  of  the  Greeks  through  that  coun- 
try, 291. 

Arrian,  remarks  on  his  account  of  Alexander’s  pas- 
sage from  Phaselis  to  Perga,  431. 

Artabanus,  his  moral  reflections  to  Xerxes,  on  the 
review  of  his  immense  army,  114.  His  cautions 
for  the  safety  of  the  Persian  fleet,  115. 

Artabazus,  satrap  of  Ionia,  revolts  from  the  king  of 
Persia,  355. 

Artaphernes,  the  Persian  governor  of  Sardis,  com- 
mands the  Athenians  to  reinstate  Hippias,  100. 

Artaxerxes  Longimanus,  king  of  Persia,  affords  pro- 
tection to  Themistocles  on  his  banishment,  152, 
153.  His  measures  of  defence  against  the  Grecian 
invasion,  154.  Cimon’s  victories  over  his  fleet  and 
army,  ib.  Revolt  of  Egypt,  155.  Solicits  a peace 
with  the  Athenians,  156. 

Artaxerxes  (Mnemon,)  is  appointed  successor  to  the 
throne  of  Persia,  231.  His  brother  Cyrus  disputes 
the  crown  with  him,  232.  Leads  his  army  against 
him,  285.  Battle  of  Cynaxa,  ib.  Concludes  a 
truce  with  the  Grecian  army,  287.  Makes  war 
against  the  Spartans,  297.  Orders  the  death  of 
Tissaphernes,  302.  His  interview  with  Conon, 
306.  Is  persuaded  by  Conon  to  rebuild  the  walls 
of  Athens,  309.  He  dictates  the  terms  of  a general 
peace,  312.  Plis  motive  for  promoting  the  tran- 
quillity of  Greece,  322.  Procures  a congress  to  be 
held  at  Sparta,  323.  Concludes  a treaty  with  the 
Spartans,  336.  A congress  of  the  Grecian  states 
at  his  court,  340. 

Artemisia,  of  Halicarnasus,  her  advice  to  Xerxes, 
124.  Her  artifice  to  save  herself  at  the  battle  of 
Salamis,  127. 

Artemisium,  the  first  sea  engagement  there  between 
the  Grecian  and  Persian  fleets,  121.  The  second, 
122. 

Aspasia,  the  Athenian  courtesan,  her  character,  175, 
188. 

Aspendus,  inhabitants  of,  chastised  by  Alexander, 
431. 

Asia  Minor,  is  colonized  by  Greeks,  35.  Distinction 
of  dialects  in  the  new  settlements,  ib.  Peculiar 
advantages  of  the  Ionian  colonies,  ib. 

Assyria,  downfall  ofthe  monarchy  of,  86. 

Astronomy  favoured  by  Alexander’s  conquest  of  Ba- 
bylon, 465. 

Atheas,  king  of  Scythia,  invites  Philip  of  Macedon  to 
assist  him  against  the  Istrians,  411.  His  perfidy, 
ib.  Is  chastised  by  Philip,  412. 

Athenagoras , of  Syracuse,  inspires  his  countrymen 
against  the  Athenian  armament,  226. 

Athens,  first  settled  by  Cecrops,  13.  Agriculture 
taught  there  by  Cecrops,  ib.  The  Cretan  insti- 
tutions introduced  by  Theseus,  18.  The  exiled 
descendants  of  Hercules  received  into  Attica,  33. 
Royalty  abolished,  and  the  magistracy  of  Archons 
substituted  in  its  room,  35.  The  Dorians  expelled 
by  the  Athenians,  ib.  Political  revolutions  at 
Athens,  62.  Constitution  of  the  republic,  as  regu- 
lated by  Solon,  93.  Rapid  successes  of  the  Athe- 
nians after  establishing  a democracy,  99.  They 
assist  the  Ionian  revolters  against  the  Persians,  100. 
But  afterward  leave  them,  101.  Attica  invaded  by 
the  Persians,  105.  Conduct  of  the  Athenians  after 
the  battle  of  Marathon,  103,  109.  Naval  successes, 
111.  Strength  and  spirit  of  the  republic,  ib.  Bat- 
tle of  Thermopyl®,  119.  Xerxes  enters  Attica,  and 
the  Athenians  abandon  their  country,  124.  The 
Spartans  desert  the  Athenian  cause,  130.  Contest 
between  the  Athenians  and  Tegeans,  132.  They 
distinguish  themselves  at  the  battle  of  Plataea,  134. 
And  at  that  of  Mycale,  136.  Their  prosperity  after 
these  victories,  147.  Their  attainments  in  the  arts 


INDEX. 


479 


of  peace,  ib.  Celebrate  their  victory  over  the  Per- 
sians at  Salamis,  148.  The  city  of  Athens  rebuilt 
and  fortified,  ib.  The  Athenians  assist  the  revolt 
of  Egypt  from  Artaxerxes,  155.  Peace  concluded 
with  Artaxerxes,  156.  The  power  of  Athens 
viewed  with  discontent  by  the  other  Grecian 
states,  157.  The  famous  truce  of  thirty  years,  159. 
How  they  subdued  their  neighbouring  states,  160. 
Spiribof  the  Athenian  government,  ib.  Panegyric 
on  the  Athenian  laws,  162.  State  of  Athens  at  the 
time  of  Solon,  ib.  Alterations  in  government 
introduced  by  Clisthenes,  165.  The  democratic 
form  of  government  completed  by  Pericles,  166. 
Progress  of  luxury  in  the  republic,  167.  The  vir- 
tues and  vices  of  this  period  compared,  167.  His- 
tory of  philosophy,  168.  Tragedy,  171.  Comedy, 
172.  Minerva  honoured  as  the  tutelary  deity  of 
Athens,  173.  Mode  of  celebrating  the  festivals,  ib. 
Domestic  manners  of  the  Athenians,  174.  The 
fine  arts,  178.  Great  improvements  made  by 
Athenian  sculptors  and  painters,  ib.  Origin  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  181.  The  Corinthians  and 
Corcyreans  appeal  to  Athens,  183.  A treaty  of 
mutual  defence  concluded  with  Corcyra,  184.  A 
reinforcement  sent  to  the  Corey rean  fleet,  ib. 
Reply  to  the  remonstrance  of  the  Corinthians,  185. 
Account  of  the  states  confederated  against  Athens, 
187.  A menacing  embassy  received  from  the  con- 
federates, ib.  Preparations  for  war,  190.  Inva- 
sion of  Attica  by  Archidamus,  ib.  The  invasion 
retaliated  on  the  confederates  by  sea,  191.  Attica 
evacuated,  ib.  Athens  visited  by  the  plague,  192 
Devastation  of  Attica  by  the  enemy,  ib  111  suc- 
cess of  the  war,  193.  The  Athenian  troops  weak- 
ened by  the  plague,  203.  Expedition  to  AStolia,  ib. 
Peace  made  with  Sparta,  212.  Accession  of 
Athens  to  the  Argive  alliance,  213.  Mutual  dis- 
contents between  Athens  and  Sparta,  214.  Re- 
newal of  the  war,  215 — 219.  Send  a fleet  to  Sicily, 
'221.  Attica  invaded  by  Agis,  231.  Vigorous  exer- 
tions of  the  Athenians,  ib.  Are  finally  defeated  at 
sea  before  Syracuse,  235.  Their  disastrous  retreat 
from  that  city,  ib.  General  consternation,  239. 
Combination  of  the  Grecian  states  against  Athens, 
ib.  The  Athenian's  defeat  the  measures  of  the 
Corinthians  and  Chians,  241.  The  democracy  over- 
turned, 243.  The  government  of  the  Four  Hun- 
dred formed,  245.  Their  tyranny,  ib.  Tumults  at 
Athens,  246.  The  democracy  restored,  247.  The 
Athenians  become  again  victorious  at  sea,  ib.  Ce- 
lebration of  the  Eleusinian  rites,  249.  Celebration 
of  the  Plynteria,  250.  Athens  besieged  by  Lysan- 
der, 260.  Athens  surrenders  to  Lysander,  and  is 
dismantled,  261.  Cruel  treatment  of  the  Athenians 
by  the  thirty  tyrants,  263.  The  tyrants  deposed, 
and  decemvirs  elected,  267.  The  internal  peace  of 
Athens  effected,  268.  A general  amnesty,  269. 
State  of  the  fine  arts  at  this  time,  274.  The  Athe- 
nians assist  the  Thebans  against  the  Spartans,  304. 
The  walls  of  Athens  rebuilt,  309.  The  Athenians 
contribute  to  the  revolt  of  Cyprus,  312.  Accept 
terms  of  peace  from  Artaxerxes,  ib.  The  alliance 
with  Sparta  renewed,  321.  The  Athenians  irrita- 
ted at  the  attempt  of  Sphodrias  on  the  Piraeus,  ib. 
Naval  successes  against  the  Spartans,  322.  The 
exiled  inhabitants  of  Plataea  received  into  the  re- 
public, 323.  Deputies  sent  to  the  Grecian  congress 
at  Sparta,  324.  Conduct  of  the  Athenians  after  the 
battle  of  Leuctra,  328.  They  resolve  to  hold  the 
balance  of  power,  329.  A defensive  alliance  with 
Sparta  debated,  334.  Assistance  sent  to  the  Spar- 
tans against  the  Theban  invasion,  335.  The  alliance 
with  Sparta  extended  and  confirmed,  336.  Peace 
concluded  with  the  Arcadians,  343.  The  Atheni- 
ans recover  many  of  their  maritime  possessions, 
351-  The  degeneracy  of  the  Athenians,  352.  Their 
extreme  profligacy,  353.  The  social  war,  354. 
State  of  philosophy  at  this  time,  356.  Statuary, 
ib.  Painting,  ib.  Literature,  358.  The  Athenians 
deluded  by  a treaty  wi  . Philip  of  Macedon,  369. 
They  counteract  his  views  upon  Olynthus,  379. 


They  defend  the  straits  of  Thermopylae  against 
Philip,  ib.  Are  deluded  into  negligence,  383. 
State  of  parties  in  Athens,  384.  Attica  insulted  by 
Macedonian  fleets,  390.  Ambassadors  sent  to  ne- 
gotiate with  Philip,  391.  A third  embassy  to  Phi- 
lip, 394.  A treaty  concluded  with  Philip,  396. 
General  consternation  at  the  fate  of  the  Phocians, 
398.  Pass  a decree  for  receiving  the  Phocian  fugi- 
tives, 399.  Resolve  to  preserve  their  engagements 
with  Philip,  400.  The  Athenians  courted  by  the 
Spartans  and  Peloponnesians,  402.  They  endea- 
vour to  rouse  the  Grecian  states  against  Philip,  405. 
Spirited  exertions  against  Philip,  by  sea  and  land, 
413.  The  Athenians  raise  a confederacy  against 
Philip,  416.  General  consternation  on  Philip  seiz- 
ing Elatiea,  417.  Moderation  of  Philip  toward 
Athens,  419.  The  peace  with  Philip  ratified,  420. 
State  of,  during  the  latter  years  of  Alexander,  447. 
Philosophical  sects  established  there,  467. 

Atys,  son  of  Croesus  king  of  Lydia,  his  death,  and  the 
consequences  of  it,  85. 

B 

Babylon,  the  capital  of  Assyria,  besieged  by  Cyrus, 
94.  The  city,  and  its  resources,  described,  ib.  Is 
taken  by  stratagem,  ib.  Improvements  made  there 
by  Alexander,  455.  Scheme  of  Apollodorus  to  pre- 
vent Alexander’s  return  thither,  458. 

Bacchus,  his  expedition  to  India  inquired  into,  449. 
(Note.) 

Bacon,  lord,  his  character  of  Aristotle,  465. 

Bards,  Grecian,  their  character  during  the  heroic 
ages,  71.  Their  high  authority  and  influence  on 
Society,  72.  The  respect  attached  to  their  cha- 
racter, ib.  Peculiar  advantages  of  the  ages  in  which 
they  lived,  73.  The  perfection  and  authority  of 
their  compositions,  ib. 

Bardyllis,  an  Illyrian  chief,  effects  a revolution  in 
Macedonia,  367.  Defeats  Perdiccas,  ib.  Is  de- 
feated and  killed  by  Philip  of  Macedon,  370. 

Batchycles,  the  Magnesian,  makes  the  throne  of  Amy- 
clean  Apollo,  177. 

Beattie,  Dr.  remarks  on  his  Essay  on  Truth,  468. 
(Note.) 

Belus,  temple  of,  at  Babylon,  account  of,  458. 

Bias,  of  Priene,  dissuades  Croesus  king  of  Lydia 
from  attempting  naval  exploits,  84. 

Bceotia,  revolt  of  the  inferior  cities  of,  from  the  autho- 
rity of  Thebes,  159.  The  revolters  assisted  by  the 
Athenians,  159.  Battle  of  Delium,  208. 

Boges,  the  Persian  governor  of  Eion,  his  desperate 
conduct  and  death,  153. 

Boxing,  how  practised  in  the  ancient  gymnastic  ex- 
ercises, 67. 

Brachmans,  ancient,  account  of  their  tenets,  458. 

Brasidas,  a Spartan  naval  commander,  joins  the  fleet 
of  Alcidas,  199.  His  prudent  counsel  overruled, 
201.  His  expedition  to  Thrace,  209.  His  address 
to  the  Acanthians,  ib.  Procures  the  revolt  of  Am- 
phipolis,  210.  His  death,  and  honours  paid  to  his 
memory,  211. 

Bucephalus , Alexander  the  Great’s  horse,  a city  found- 
ed to  his  memory,  426. 

Bythinia,  sufferings  of  the  Greeks  under  Xeno- 
phon, in  their  passage  through  that  country,  294. 

Byzantium,  its  foundation,  and  peculiar  situation,  de- 
scribed, 150  Is  taken  from  the  Persians,  by  the 
Greeks,  ib.  Is  taken  by  Alcibiades,  249.  Is  taken 
from  the  Athenians  by  Lysander,  260.  Attempt  of 
Philip  of  Macedon  to  surprise  it,  410. 

C 

Cahylxi,  founded  by  Philip  of  Macedon,  401. 

Cadmus,  a Phoenician,  the  founder  of  Thebes,  13. 

Calanus , the  Brachman,  his  death  and  prophecy, 
458. 

Calenture,  general  idea  of  this  disorder,  317. 

Callias,  the  Athenian  admiral,  his  exertions  against 
Philip  of  Macedon,  407. 


480 


INDEX. 


CaUicratidas,  his  reception  in  the  command  of  the 
Peloponnesian  fleet,  254.  His  manly  behaviour, 
ib.  Obtains  voluntary  contributions  from  the  Io- 
nians,  ib.  Takes  Methymna,  255.  Defeats  the 
Athenian  fleet  under  Conon,  ib.  Is  defeated  and 
killed  at  Arginussae,  ib. 

Callicratides,  the  Spartan,  manner  of  his  death  at  the 
battle  of  Plataea,  135. 

Callisthenes,  put  to  death  for  a conspiracy  against 
Alexander  the  Great,  460.  (Note.) 

Callixenus , procures  a decree  against  the  Athenian 
admirals,  257. 

Cambyses,  king  of  Persia,  pursues  the  conquests  of 
his  father  Cyrus,  94.  Reduces  Egypt,  95.  His 
death,  ib. 

Camerina,  city  of,  holds  a neutrality  between  Syra- 
cuse and  Athens,  229. 

Candaules,  king  of  Lydia,  the  consequences  of  his 
imprudence,  82. 

Cappadocia , invaded  and  ravaged  by  Croesus  king  of 
Lydia,  88. 

Caranus,  an  Argive  prince,  establishes  a principality 
in  Macedonia,  365. 

Carthage , the  foundation  and  growth  of,  136.  Pre- 
vents the  Phocaeans  from  settling  in  Corsica,  137. 
Commercial  prosperity  and  power  of  the  Cartha- 
ginians, ib.  Civil  government  of  the  republic,  ib. 
(Note.)  Ambitious  and  jealous  spirit  of  the  repub- 
lic, 138.  Learning  of,  ib.  (Note.)  Views  of  the  Car- 
thaginians in  entering  into  alliance  with  Xerxes, 
ib.  They  invade  Sicily,  145.  Conclude  a trea- 
ty of  peace  with  Syracuse,  146.  Undertake  the 
conquest  of  Sicily,  278.  Treat  the  natives  cruel- 
ly, ib. 

Castor  of  Rhodes,  his  character  as  a chronologist 
and  historian,  81.  (Note.) 

Cataphracts,  in  the  Grecian  military,  what,  428. 
(Note.) 

Categories,  the  ten,  in  the  ancient  logic  explained, 
360.  (Note.) 

Cebes  the  Theban,  his  final  conversation  with  Socra- 
tes, 272.  Account  of  his  celebrated  Table,  274. 

Cecrops  his  settlement  in  Attica,  13. 

Cephalus , his  character  and  good  fortune  at  Athens, 

Ceres,  honoured  by  the  Athenians  in  the  Eleusinian 
festival,  249. 

Chabrias,  the  Athenian  general  of  the  Theban  army, 
his  address  in  opposing  the  operations  of  Agesilaus, 
in  Bceotia,  322.  The  unusual  attitude  of  his  statue 
at  Rome  explained,  ib.  (Note.)  Acts  in  the  capaci- 
ties of  general  and  admiral,  ib.  Repulses  Epami- 
nondas  from  before  Corinth,  337.  Is  killed  in  the 
Social  war,  354.  ' 

Chaleis,  region  of,  in  Macedonia,  described,  185. 

Chalyheans,  their  opposition  to  the  Greeks  under 
Xenophon  and  Cheirisophus,  291. 

Chares  of  Athens,  his  character,  354.  Is  sent  out  to 
conduct  the  Social  war,  ib.  Abandons  the  siege 
of  Chios,  ib.  Accuses  his  associates,  355.  Enga- 
ges in  the  service  of  Artabazus,  ib.  Occasion  of 
his  recall,  356.  His  expedition  to  Olynthus,  386. 
Is  sent  to  Thrace,  where  he  is  defeated  by  Amyn- 
tas,  410..  Is  one  of  the  generals  at  the  battle  of 
Cherontea,  418. 

Charidemus,  his  character,  and  expedition  to  Olyn- 
thus, 388. 

Chariot-races,  in  the  ancient  Grecian  public  games, 
when  instituted,  67. 

Charon,  his  address  and  fortitude  during  the  execu- 
tiod  of  Pelopidas’s  conspiracy  at  Thebes,  319. 

Clierisophus  commands  the  Spartan  troops  sent  to 
assist  Cyrus  in  his  Asiatic  expedition,  283.  His 
advice  to  the  Greeks,  289.  Is  elected  one  of  their 
generals,  ib.  Memorable  retreat  of  the  Greeks 
from  Asia,  ib.  Leaves  Trebizond,  293.  His  return, 
294.  His  death,  ib. 

Cheroruta.  battle  of,  between  Philip  and  the  Greeks, 
418. 

Cherries,  first  brought  from  Cerasus  to  Italy  by  Lu- 
cullus,  293. 


Chersonesus,  Thracian,  description  of  the  country, 
298.  Is  fortified  by  Dercyllidas,  ib. 

Chieftains,  Grecian,  during  the  heroic  ages,  their  rank 
and  authority,  27. 

Chios,  besieged  by  Chares,  354. 

Chiron,  the  Grecian  bard,  brief  account  of,  72. 

Chorienes , his  submission  to  Alexander  the  Great, 
445. 

Chorus  in  the  Grecian  theatre,  its  origin,  and  advan- 
tages, 171. 

Chronology  very  loosely  regarded  by  the  ancient 
Greek  historians,  12.  (Note.) 

Cicero,  remarks  on  his  account  of  the  conduct  of 
CaUicratidas,.  255.  (Note.) 

Cimmerians,  their  invasion  of  Asia  Minor,  82. 

Cimon,  his  character,  153.  Succeeds  to  the  com- 
mand of  the  Grecian  army,  on  the  death  of  Aris- 
tides, ib.  His  rapid  successes  in  Caria  and  Lycia, 
ib.  Reduces  Phaselis,  ib.  Defeats  the  Persian 
fleet,  154.  Surprises  the  Persian  camp  at  Euryme- 
don,  ib.  His  successful  expedition  to  Cyprus,  156. 
Is  banished  by  the  influence  of  Pericles,  159. 
Parallel  between  him  and  Pericles,  160. 

Cinadon,  his  character,  and  conspiracy  against  the 
Spartan  government,  299.  His  plot  discovered,  ib. 
He  is  put  to  death,  300. 

Cirrha,  a city  of  the  Crisseans,  described,  63.  Is 
taken  and  destroyed  by  the  Amphictyonic  army,  65. 

Clearchus , his  address  in  appeasing  the  mutiny  of 
Cyrus’s  Grecian  troops,  284.  His  misconduct  at 
the  battle  of  Cynaxa,  286.  Concludes  a truce 
with  Tissaphernes,  287.  Is  perfidiously  seized  by 
Tissaphernes,  ib. 

Cleigenes,  the  Acanthian,  his  speech  in  the  Spartan 
assembly  against  the  Olynthian  confederacy,  316. 

Cleiteles,  the  Corinthian,  his  speech  at  Athens  in 
favour  of  a defensive  alliance  with  Sparta,  334. 

Cleombrotus,  his  accession  to  the  throne  of  Sparta, 
317.  Is  sent  to  conduct  the  war  in  Bceotia,  321. 
Is  sent  a second  time  with  that  trust,  326.  Is  de- 
feated and  killed  on  the  plain  of  Leuctra,  327. 

Cleomenes,  king  of  Sparta,  rejects  the  overtures  of 
Aristagoras,  98.  His  resentment  against  Clisthe- 
nes,  99.  (Note.)  His  death,  1 12. 

Cleon  of  Athens,  his  character,  197.  Urges  the  doom 
of  death  against  the  captive  citizens  of  Mitylene, 
ib.  Prevails  on  the  Athenians  to  reject  the  Spar- 
tan overtures  for  peace,  206.  His  seditious  artifi- 
ces, ib.  Gains  the  credit  of  reducing  Sphacteria, 
ib.  Is  ridiculed  by  Aristophanes,  207.  Is  killed 
before  Amphipolis,  211. 

Clisthenes,  alterations  made  by  him  in  the  govern- 
ment of  Athens,  165. 

Clitus,  account  of  the  manner  of  his  death,  460. 

Cnidus,  naval  engagement  there,  between  Conon 
and  Pisander,  307. 

Codrus,  king  of  Attica,  devotes  himself  to  death  for 
the  cause  of  his  country,  35. 

Colchos,  inhabitants  of,  oppose  the  passage  of  the 
Greeks  under  Xenophon  and  Cheirisophus,  but 
are  defeated,  292. 

Colonization,  how  practised  by  the  early  Greeks,  13. 

Colours,  in  painting,  remarks  on,  358. 

Comedy,  Greek,  origin  of  the,  172.  Its  characteristic 
distinctions  from  tragedy,  ib.  And  from  modern 
comedy,  173.  State  of,  in  the  age  of  Alexander  the 
Great,  463. 

Companions,  a body  of  Macedonian  youth,  instituted 
by  king  Philip,  369. 

Conan,  is  appointed  one  of  the  ten  commanders  to 
supersede  Alcibiades,  253.  Is  defeated  by  Calli- 
cratidas,  255.  His  advice  rejected,  and  the  Athe- 
nian fleet  captured  by  Lysander,  259.  Entertains 
the  hope  of  retrieving  the  fortune  of  Athens,  306. 
His  interview  with  Artaxerxes,  ib.  Defeats  Pisan- 
der by  sea  at  Cnidus,  307.  Prevails  on  Artaxerxes 
to  rebuild  the  walls  of  Athens,  309.  His  endea- 
vours to  restore  the  power  of  Athens,  310.  Is  put 
to  death  by  the  Persians,  311. 

Corcyra,  fleet  of,  destroyed  by  Themistocles,  111. 
Rupture  between  this  colony  and  Corinth,  182 


INDEX. 


The  fleet  of,  defeats  that  of  the  Corinthians,  183. 
The  Corcyreans  ravage  the  states  allied  with  Co- 
rinth, ib.  Apply  to  Athens,  ib.  Representations 
of  the  Corcyrean  deputies,  ib.  A treaty  of  mutual 
defence  concluded  with  Athens,  184.  Are  defeated 
by  the  Corinthians  in  an  obstinate  sea-fight,  ib. 
Factions  generated  in  Corcyra  by  Corinthian  in- 
trigues, 199.  The  demagogues  assassinated,  ib. 
Tumult  between  the  Athenian  and  the  Corinthian 
factions,  200.  Arrival  of  Nicostratus  with  a squad- 
ron from  Athens,  ib.  Massacre  of  the  Lacedaemo- 
nian partizans,  201.  Perfidious  cruelty  of  the 
Corcyreans,  202. 

Corinthians , their  situation  and  character,  61.  Their 
political  revolutions,  ib.  Rupture  between  them 
and  the  Corcyreans,  182.  The  Corinthians  under- 
take the  cause  of  Epidamnus,  ib.  Their  fleet 
defeated  by  the  Corcyreans,  183.  Appeal  to 
Athens,  ib.  Speech  of  the  Corinthian  deputies,  ib. 
Defeat  the  Corcyreans  in  an  obstinate  sea-engage- 
ment, 184.  Remonstrance  with  the  Athenians,  ib. 
Encourage  a revolt  of  Macedonia  from  the  Athe- 
nians, 185.  Apply  to  Sparta  for  assistance,  186. 
Corrupt  their  Corcyrean  prisoners,  199.  Commu- 
nicate their  discontents  to  the  Argives,  212.  Their 
designs  against  Athens  discovered,  241.  Mas- 
sacre of  the  principal  citizens,  308.  The  Corinth- 
ians prepare  to  oppose  the  passage  of  Philip  of 
Macedon  into  Peloponnesus,  402.  Philip  insulted 
at  Corinth,  405. 

Coronoea,  battle  of,  307. 

Cossoeans  reduced  by  Alexander  the  Great,  457. 

Cotys,  king  of  Thrace,  his  rude  way  of  life,  368.  His 
frantic  delusion,  372. 

Courtezans , Grecian,  an  account  of,  175. 

Craterus  succeeds  Antipater  as  governor  of  Mace- 
donia and  Greece,  431. 

Crenidce,  taken  by  Philip  of  Macedon,  and  called 
from  him  Philippi,  373. 

Crete,  island  of,  how  settled,  17.  Institutions  and 
manners  of  the  natives,  18. 

Criminal  jurisdiction,  how  exercised  during  the 
heroic  ages  of  Greece,  27. 

Crissa,  the  republic  of,  described,  63.  Impositions 
exacted  from  the  pilgrims  to  Delphi  by  the 
Crisseans,  ib.  They  plunder  the  shrine  of  Del- 
phi, ib.  Siege  of  Crissa,  64.  The  city  taken  and 
demolished,  ib.  The  Crissean  community  extir- 
pated, 65. 

Critias,  chief  of  the  thirty  tyrants  of  Athens,  his 
character,  263.  His  accusation  of  Theramenes, 
264.  Orders  him  to  be  put  to  death,  265.  Is  killed 
in  battle  with  Thrasybulus,  267. 

Crito,  his  last  conversation  with  Socrates,  272. 

Croesus,  the  last  king  of  Lydia,  subdues  the  Asiatic 
Greeks,  84.  Dissuaded  from  attempting  naval 
exploits,  ib.  His  character  and  splendour,  ib. 
His  conversation  with  Solon,  85.  His  extreme 
solicitude  for  the  safety  of  his  son  Atys,  and  grief 
for  his  death,  ib.  Determines  to  check  the  pro- 
gress of  Cyrus,  87.  Invades  Persia,  88.  Is  defeat- 
ed by  Ctyrus,  ib.  Is  routed  by  him  at  Sardis,  ib. 
Is  taken  at  Sardis,  90.  How  treated  by  Cyrus,  90. 
Reproaches  the  oracle  of  Delphi,  ib. 

Crotona,  when,  and  by  whom  built,  139.  The  citi- 
zens reformed  by  Pythagoras,  143.  War  between 
Crotona  and  Sybaris,  145.  Sedition  there,  ib. 
The  citizens  defeated  by  the  Locrians  and  Rhe- 
gians,  146. 

Cteselaus,  his  principal  excellence  as  a sculptor,  274. 

Ctesiphon,  is  prosecuted  by  ^Eschines  for  his  decree 
in  honour  of  Demosthenes,  446. 

Curtius,  Quintus,  character  of  his  history  of  Alexan- 
der the  Great,  437.  (Note.) 

Cyclades,  reduced  by  the  Persian  generals,  105. 
Their  present  deplorable  state,  ib.  (Note.) 

Cynaxa , battle  of,  285. 

Cynoscephalce,  battle  of,  345. 

Cyprus,  description  of  that  island,  155.  Successful 
expedition  of  Cimon  to,  156. 

Cyrenaica , history  of  the  Greek  inhabitants  of,  95. 
3 P 


How  withdrawn  from  the  sphere  of  Grecian  poli- 
tics, 277. 

Cyrus,  king  of  Persia,  his  extraction,  86.  His  first 
exploits,  87.  Defeats  Croesus  king  of  Lydia,  88. 
Routs  him  again  at  Sardis,  ib.  Takes  the  city  of 
Sardis,  90.  His  treatment  of  Croesus,  ib.  His 
reply  to  the  solicitations  of  the  Ionians,  91.  His 
reply  to  the  Spartan  deputies,  92.  Besieges 
Babylon,  94.  Reduces  it  by  stratagem,  ib.  His 
character,  96. 

Cyrus,  son  of  Darius  Nothus,  his  interview  with  Ly- 
sander  in  Asia  Minor,  251.  Solicits  the  re-ap- 
pointment of  Lysander  to  the  command  of  the 
Spartan  fleet,  258.  Disputes  the  succession  of  his 
brother  Artaxerxes,  281.  His  character,  282.  State 
of  Lower  Asia  under  his  administration,  ib.  His 
popular  conduct,  ib.  Procures  the  assistance  of 
the  Greeks,  283.  His  expedition  into  Upper  Asia, 
ib.  His  interview  with  Epyaxa  wife  of  Syennesis, 
ib.  He  passes  the  Euphrates,  285.  Battle  of  Cy- 
naxa, ib.  His  death,  286. 

Cythera,  island  of,  subdued  by  the  Athenians  under 
Nicias,  208. 

Cyzicus,  the  whole  Peloponnesian  fleet  captured 
there  by  Alcibiades,  247. 

D 

Danaus,  his  settlement  at  Argos,  13. 

Darius  Codovnanus,  his  accession  to  the  throne  of 
Persia,  427.  His  inactivity  during  the  progress  of 
Alexander  accounted  for,  432.  Collects  an  im- 
mense army  to  oppose  Alexander,  ib.  His  indis- 
creet march  to  Issus,  433.  Disposition  of  his  army 
at  the  battle  of  Issus,  434.  Is  routed,  ib.  His  es- 
cape, 435.  Battle  of  Arbela,  441.  His  flight,  ib. 
His  assassination,  443. 

Hystaspes,  king  of  Persia,  his  character,  95. 

His  revenue  and  resources,  96.  His  expedition 
into  Scythia,  97.  His  exertions  to  reduce  the  revolt 
of  Ionia,  102.  Takes  Miletus,  103.  His  attention 
to  the  prosperity  of  Ionia  after  its  reduction,  ib. 
His  resentment  against  the  Athenians,  104.  His 
instructions  to  Datis  and  Artaphernes,  105.  His 
generosity  to  his  Eretrian  prisoners  after  the  battle 
of  Marathon,  108.  His  last  years  employed  in 
preparations  for  another  Grecian  expedition,  112. 
See  Xerxes. 

Nothus,  king  of  Persia,  his  character,  239. 

His  generals  violate  the  Persian  treaty  with  Athens, 
240.  He  sends  his  son  Cyrus  into  Asia  Minor, 
251.  His  death,  281. 

Datis,  and  Artaphernes,  Persian  generals,  their  inva- 
sion of  Greece,  104.  They  reduce  the  Cyclades, 
105.  Land  in  Attica,  ib.  Battle  of  Marathon,  107 

Dead,  the  memory  of  those  slain  in  war,  how  cele- 
brated by  the  Athenians,  190.  (Note.) 

Decelia,  in  Attica,  fortified  by  Agis  king  of  Sparta, 231. 

Decemvirs  chosen  by  the  Athenians  on  the  deposition 
of  the  thirty  tyrants,  267. 

Dcdalus  the  Athenian,  and  Dedalus  of  Sicyon,  pro- 
bably confounded  by  the  Athenian  writers,  176. 
(Note.) 

Delium , battle  of,  between  the  Thebans  and  Atheni- 
ans, 208. 

Delphi , oracle  of,  37.  Description  of  Delphi,  38. 
Mode  of  delivering  oracles  there,  ib.  Its  influence 
in  establishing  the  Olympic  games,  and  the  laws  of 
Sparta,  ib.  The  temple  plundered  by  the  Crisse- 
ans, 63.  Command  of  the  oracle  on  this  occasion, 
64.  llow  rescued  from  the  attempt  of  Xerxes,  123. 
The  temple  seized  by  the  Phocians,  375 

Demades,  his  character  and  opposition  to  Demosthe- 
nes, 383.  Reprimands  the  levity  of  Philip  of  Ma- 
cedon after  the  battle  of  Cheronaea,  419. 

Demaratus,  joint  king  of  Sparta,  is  reduced  by  Cleo- 
menes,  his  associate,  to  take  refuge  at  the  court  of 
Persia,  112.  His  character  of  the  Greeks,  114. 
And  of  the  Spartans,  117. 

Demetrius , (Phalerius,)  the  first  writer  who  cultivated 
chronology  as  a science,  11.  (Note.) 


482 


INDEX. 


Demochares , his  insolence  to  Philip  of  Macedon,  420. 

Demosthenes,  the  Athenian  general,  his  expedition 
to  AStolia,  203.  Storms  .Egitium,  ib.  Defends 
Naupactus,  204.  Surprises  the  camp  of  the  Am- 
brasians,  ib.  Fortifies  Pylus,  ib.  His  defence  of 
this  port  against  the  Spartans,  205.  Reduces 
Sphacteria,  206.  His  operations  in  Bceotia  discon- 
certed, 208.  He  and  his  troops  captivated  by  Gy- 
lippus,  238.  Is  put  to  death,  ib. 

--  , the  orator,  his  first  appearance  against 

Philip  of  Macedon,  379.  The  motives  by  which  he 
was  actuated,  380.  His  first  Philippic,  ib.  Mea- 
sures proposed  by  him  for  resisting  Philip,  381.  His 
military  behaviour  in  Euboea,  384.  His  first  oration 
in  favour  of  the  Olynthians,  ib.  Cause  of  his  par- 
tiality to  Chares,  386.  His  second  oration  in  behalf 
of  the  Olynthians,  ib.  His  third  oration,  388.  His 
quarrel  with  Aeschines,  392.  Dissensions  between 
him  and  his  colleagues,  ambassadors  to  Philip,  ib. 
Is  disabled  by  embarrassment  from  addressing 
Philip,  393.  His  artful  behaviour  to  his  associates 
on  their  return,  ib.  His  speech  at  the  report  of  the 
embassy,  ib.  Procures  himself  to  be  joined  an  ano- 
ther embassy  to  Philip,  394.  His  speech  to  Philip, 
ib.  Is  prevented  from  declaring  his  sentiments  to 
the  Athenians,  397.  Advises  the  Athenians  not  to 
break  their  treaty  with  Philip,  400.  His  celebrated 
reply  to  the  partizans  of  Macedon,  403.  Defends 
the  conduct  of  Diopeithes,  406.  Receives  Persian 
pay  to  encourage  his  opposition  to  Philip,  408. 
Honours  conferred  on  him  for  his  services  in  Eu- 
boea, ib.  Exhorts  the  Athenians  to  assist  the 
cities  of  Propontis,  409.  Renews  his  exhortations, 
410.  Detects  the  plot  of  Antiphon,  414.  His  ora- 
tion on  the  seizing  of  Elatsea  by  Philip,  417.  Per- 
suades the  Thebans  to  oppose  Philip,  418.  Repairs 
the  walls  and  fortifications  of  Athens  at  his  own 
charges,  420.  His  oration  in  honour  of  the  slain  at 
Cheroneea,  421.  His  masterly  defence  against 
iEschines,  446.  His  generosity  to  him,  447.  His 
banishment  and  death,  ib. 

Deodatus,  of  Athens,  opposes  the  cruel  resolution  of 
Cleon  against  the  captive  citizens  of  Mytilene,  197. 

Derce,  battle  of,  between  the  Spartans  and  Messe- 
nians,  55. 

Dercyllidas,  the  Spartan  general,  his  character,  297. 
Fortifies  Chersonesus  against  the  Thracians,  298. 
His  treaty  with  Tissaphernes,  ib.  Defends  Abydus, 
309. 

Design,  history  of  the  arts  of,  176.  State  of,  in  the 
age  of  Alexander  the  Great,  464. 

Dido,  probably  contemporary  with  Aeneas,  136. 
(Note.) 

Diogenes,  the  cynic,  ridicules  the  efforts  of  the  Co- 
rinthians to  oppose  Philip  of  Macedon,  402.  Is 
visited  by  Alexander  king  of  Macedon,  423. 

Diognotus  disposes  Pausanias  to  protect  Thrasy- 
bulus,  268. 

Diomedon,  the  Athenian  admiral,  his  speech  before 
his  execution,  257. 

Dioneces,  the  Spartan,  his  memorable  observation  at 
the  battle  of  Thermopylae,  120. 

Dionysius  of  Syracuse,  his  first  rise  and  character, 
279.  His  artful  usurpation  of  the  government,  280. 
His  unsuccessful  attempts  for  literary  fame,  ib. 
Reasons  why  his  character  has  been  held  in  so  odi- 
ous a light,  ib. 

Diojiysius  the  younger,  his  character,  281.  His 
tyranny  abolished  by  Timoleon,  ib. 

, a Phocaean,  his  advice  at  a council  of  war, 

102.  His  ineffectual  efforts  to  introduce  active  dis- 
cipline in  the  fleet,  103.  Betakes  himself  to  pira- 
cy, ib. 

of  Halicarnassus,  his  distinctions  in  the 

qualities  of  style,  69.  (Note.) 

Diopeithes,  an  Athenian  general,  his  vigorous  exer- 
tions against  Philip  of  Macedon,  406.  His  conduct 
defended  by  Demosthenes,  ib.  Is  defeated  and 
killed  by  Philip,  409. 

Dodona,  origin  of  the  oracle  there,  37. 

Dorians,  their  oiig’n,  12.  Engage  as  auxiliaries  to 


the  Heracleidae,  34.  Establish  themselves  in  Pelo- 
ponnesus, ib.  Migration  of,  35.  Why  not  alarm- 
ed at  the  progress  of  Cyrus,  92.  Review  of  their 
circumstances  at  the  time  of  their  emigration  to 
Magna  Graecia,  140. 

Draco,  the  lawgiver  of  Athens,  character  of  him  and 
his  institutions,  162. 

E 

Education,  the  main  objects  of,  during  the  heroic 
ages  of  Greece,  31.  How  regulated  by  Lycurgus 
at  Sparta,  45.  By  Solon  at  Athens,  165.  The  plan 
of,  according  to  the  Pythagorean  school,  143. 

Egypt,  the  Egyptians,  why  unqualified  for  relishing 
or  improving  music,  68.  A settlement  of  Grecian 
pirates  established  in  Egypt,  94.  Is  reduced  by 
Cambyses,  95.  Revolt  of,  under  Inarus,  155.  The 
arts  of  design  early  cultivated  there,  176.  Ready 
submission  of  that  country  to  Alexander  the  Great, 
439.  History  of,  subsequent  to  Alexander,  463. 

Eira,  fortress  of,  gallantly  defended  by  Aristomenes, 
57.  Is  surprised  by  the  Spartans,  58. 

Elataea  seized  by  Philip  of  Macedon,  417. 

Elegy,  in  poetry,  to  what  purposes  principally  ap- 
plied by  the  Greeks,  73. 

Eleusinian  mysteries,  celebration  of  the,  at  Athens 
described,  249.  Requisites  for  initiation  into  them, 
250.  The  procession  of,  conducted  by  Alcibia- 
des,  ib. 

Elis,  republic  of,  contrasted  with  that  of  Sparta,  62. 
The  Elians  destroy  Pisa,  and  adorn  the  temple  of 
the  Olympian  Jupiter,  158.  They  feebly  assist  the 
Spartans  against  the  Athenians,  277.  Elis  invaded 
by  the  Spartans,  and  subjugated,  ib.  The  Elian 
territory  invaded  by  the  Arcadians,  who  seize 
Olympia,  346.  The  city  restored,  347. 

Enharmonic  genus  of  Grecian  music,  by  whom  in- 
vented, 69. 

Ennius,  his  concise  enumeration  of  the  principal 
Greek  and  Roman  divinities,  26.  (Note.) 

Eolians,  their  origin,  12.  Eolia  settled  by  Pelopon- 
nesian fugitives,  34.  Confederacy  of  the  Eolians 
against  Cyrus,  91. 

Epaminondas,  his  character,  320.  Appears  at  Sparta 
as  the  Theban  deputy,  323.  His  demands,  324. 
Reflections  on  his  conduct,  ib.  Assembles  the 
Theban  forces  before  the  plain  of  Leuctra,  326. 
Disposition  of  his  troops  opposed  to  Cleombrotus, 
327.  Battle  of  Leuctra,  ib.  Ravages  Laconia,  and 
rebuilds  Messene,  335.  His  motives  for  evacuating 
Laconia,  336.  Is  tried  for  his  conduct,  ib.  Marches 
against  Corinth,  337.  Is  again  disgraced,  ib.  De- 
livers Pelopidas  from  the  king  of  Thessaly,  340. 
Compels  the  Achaeans  to  accept  the  Theban  alli- 
ance, 342.  Aims  to  render  Thebes  mistress  of  the 
sea,  345.  His  attempt  to  surprise  Sparta,  348. 
Attempts  Mantinaea,  ib.  His  victory  before  that 
city,  349.  His  death,  350.  His  character,  ib. 

Ephialtes,  employed  by  Pericles  at  Athens,  166 

Ephori,  instituted  by  Lycurgus  at  Sparta,  the  nature 
of  their  office,  42. 

Epialtes,  his  treachery  to  the  Greek  defenders  of  the 
straits  of  Thermopylae,  118. 

Epicides,  his  opposition  to  Themistocles  silenced  by 
a bribe,  115. 

Epicurus,  account  of  his  philosophy,  474.  His  cha- 
racter, 475. 

Epidamnus,  citizens  of,  apply  to  Corinth  for  protec- 
tion against  the  Taulantii,  182.  Submits  to  the 
Corcyreans,  183. 

Epode  and  Iambic,  the  distinction  between,  74. 

Epyaxa,  wife  of  Syennesis,  governor  of  Cilicia,  medi- 
ates between  Cyrus  and  her  husband,  283. 

Equestrian  exercises  at  the  ancient  public  games, 
described,  67. 

Er"tria,  naval  engagement  there,  246. 

EscJs'.pius  engages  in  the  Argonautic  expedition,  16. 

Eteocles  and  Polynices,  the  sons  of  CEdipus,  history 
of,  17. 

Eteonicus,  his  stratagem  to  preserve  the  Peloponne- 


INDEX;  483 


sian  fleet  after  the  defeat  of  Callicratidas,  256. 
His  address  in  quelling  a mutiny  among  his  sea- 
men, 258. 

Euboea , island  of,  reduced  by  the  Persians,  105.  State 
of,  after  the  expulsion  of  the  Thebans,  383.  The 
intrigues  of  Philip  of  Macedon  there,  384.  Philip 
expels  the  Athenians,  390.  The  Macedonians  ex- 
pelled by  Phocion  and  Demosthenes,  408. 

Eudamidas,  his  expedition  to  Macedon,  316. 

Euephnus  the  Lacedaemonian,  his  perfidy,  49. 

Eumenes,  secretary  to  Alexander  the  Great,  his  cha- 
racter, 457. 

Euphaes,  king  of  Messene,  his  advice  on  the  treach- 
erous hostilities  of  the  Spartans,  50.  His  exhorta- 
tion to  his  forces,  51.  His  battle  with  the  Spar- 
tans, ib.  His  exposition  of  the  oracular  demand  of 
a virgin  sacrifice,  53.  His  death,  ib. 

Euphemus,  the  orator,  his  reply  to  Hermocrates  at 
Camerina,  229. 

Euphranor , the  Corinthian  painter,  his  great  cha- 
racter, and  principal  works,  357. 

Euphrates,  the  inundations  of,  restrained  by  Alex- 
ander the  Great,  456. 

Euphron,  usurps  the  government  of  Sicyon,  342.  Is 
assassinated,  343. 

E upompus,  the  Grecian  painter,  forms  a new  school 
at  Sicyon,  357. 

Euripides  completes  the  Grecian  tragedy,  by  perfect- 
ing the  chorus,  171.  His  character,  172. 

Eurudice , queen  of  Macedonia,  solicits  the  assistance 
of  Iphicrates  in  behalf  of  her  sons,  366. 

Eurylochus,  a Thessalian  prince,  commands  the  Am- 
phictyonic  army  sent  against  Crissa,  64.  His  army 
distressed  by  pestilence,  ib.  Takes  and  destroys 
the  city,  65. 

Eurymedon  conducts  an  Athenian  fleet  to  the  assist- 
ance of  Corcyra,  201.  Concurs  in  the  cruelty  of 
the  Corcyrean  parties,  202. 

, the  Persian  camp  there  surprised  and 

taken  by  Cimon,  154. 

Euxine  Sea,  the  southern  coast  o£  292.  Xenophon 
proposes  to  settle  his  Grecian  troops  there,  294. 

Evagoras,  king  of  Cyprus,  his  history  and  character, 
306.  His  attachment  to  Athens  and  friendship  for 
Conon,  ib.  Revolts  against  the  Persians,  311.  Is 
reduced  to  become  tributary  to  Persia,  312. 

F 

Fables,  current  lessons  of  morality  in  the  early  ages 
of  Greece  and  Rome,  168. 

G 

Galleys  of  the  ancients,  the  true  disposition  of  the 
rowers  described,  62.  (Note.)  Skilful  management 
of  them  in  battle,  103. 

Games,  public,  why  instituted  by  the  ancient  Greeks, 

66. 

Gaza,  taken  by  Alexander  the  Great,  after  a despe- 
rate defence,  439. 

Gellias  of  Agrigentum,  his  riches  and  splendid  mode 
of  life,  279.  Ilis  miserable  death,  ib. 

Gelon,  king  of  Syracuse,  his  character,  145.  His 
stratagem  to  destroy  Hamilcar,  and  the  Carthagi- 
nian fleet,  ib.  Dictates  the  terms  of  peace  to  Car- 
thage, 146. 

Geography , improved  by  the  expedition  of  Alexander 
the  Great  to  the  East,  465. 

Germans,  as  described  by  Tacitus,  compared  with 
the  Greeks  as  described  by  Homer,  23.  Their  su- 
perstition dark  and  gloomy,  ib. 

Glaucias,  king  of  the  Taulantii,  takes  arms  against 
Alexander  king  of  Macedon,  424.  Is  defeated  by 
him,  425. 

Gods  of  the  ancient  Greeks,  origin  and  number  of 
the,  accounted  for,  26. 

Gongylus,  the  Corinthian,  brings  news  of  relief  to 
the  besieged  Syracusans,  230. 

Gordius,  his  history,  431.  His  famous  knot  untied  or 
cut  by  Alexander  the  Great,  432. 


Gorgias  of  Leontium  applies  to  Athens  for  protection 
against  the  usurpations  of  Syracuse,  220. 

Granicus,  battle  of,  between  Alexander  the  Great 
and  the  Persians,  428 

Gryllus,  the  son  of  Xenophon,  supposed  to  have 
killed  Epaminondas,  349  (Note.) 

Guischard,  his  remarks  on  warfare,  442.  (Note.) 

Gyges,  how  he  obtained  the  crown  of  Lydia,  82. 

Gylippus,  the  Spartan  commander,  relieves  the  be- 
sieged Syracusans,  231.  And  defeats  the  Atheni- 
ans, 232.  Captures  Demosthenes  and  his  troops, 
237.  And  Nicias,  238. 

Gymnastic  exercises  in  the  Grecian  games  described, 
'66. 

H 

Haliartus , besieged  by  Ly sander,  but  relieved  by  the 
Thebans,  304. 

Halicarnassus,  besieged  by  Alexander  the  Great,  429. 
The  town  taken  and  demolished,  430. 

Hamilcar,  his  invasion  of  Sicily,  and  death,  145. 

Hannibal,  undertakes  the  conquest  of  Sicily,  278. 
Is,  with  the  greatest  portion  of  his  troops,  destroy- 
ed by  the  pestilence,  ib. 

Harmocydes,  commander  of  the  Phocian  detachment 
sent  to  the  army  of  Mardonius,  his  ill  reception  by 
that  general,  131. 

Harpagus,  a Mede,  his  stratagem  in  battle,  88.  Re- 
duces the  countries  of  Lower  Asia,  92.  Takes 
Phocaea,  93. 

Harpalus,  governor  of  Babylon,  his  unsuccessful 


tans  at  the  surprise  of  Eira,  59. 

Hegasandridas  commands  a Peloponnesian  fleet  sent 
to  the  Athenian  coast,  246.  Defeats  the  Athenians 
at  Eretria,  ib. 

Hegelochus,  the  Athenian  general,  protects  Manti- 
naea,  348. 

Helen,  the  motive  that  suggested  the  rape  of,  20. 
History  ofy  ib.  Is  married  to  Menelaus,  21.  Elopes 
with  Paris,  ib.  Is  recovered  on  the  destruction 
of  Troy,  22.  Instance  of  her  personal  attentions, 
89.  (Note.) 

Hellebore,  a medicinal  plant  cultivated  at  Crissa,  63. 

Hellenes , their  origin,  12.  Diffuse  their  colonies  and 
language  over  Greece,  14.  Causes  of  the  migra- 
tions of  the  Hellenic  tribes,  33. 

Helots,  in  Sparta,  account  of,  12.  How  reduced  to  a 
state  of  slavery,  49.  Conspire  with  the  Parthenise, 
54.  Revolt  of  them  and  the  Messenians,  157. 
They  are  received  by  the  Athenians  on  the  reduc- 
tion of  Ithome,  ib.  Cruel  treatment  of,  by  the 
Spartans,  209.  Are  armed  by  the  Spartans  at  the 
renewal  of  the  Peloponnesian  war,  ib. 

Hepheestion,  the  favourite  of  Alexander  the  Great, 
is  mistaken  for  him  by  Darius’s  mother,  Sisygam- 
bis,  435.  Marries  Darius’s  daughter,  Drypetis,  456. 
His  death,  457. 

Heracleidoe  expelled  by  the  Pelopidse,  and  received 
into  Attica,  33.  Their  establishment  in  Peloponne- 
sus, 34.  Their  division  of  their  conquests,  ib. 

Hermocrates,  procures  a general  congress  of  the  Si- 
cilian states,  220.  Animates  his  countrymen  to  de- 
fend Syracuse  against  the  Athenians,  227.  Solicits 
aid  from  Camerina,  229.  His  works  of  defence 
against  the  approaches  of  the  besiegers,  ib.  De- 
feats the  Athenian  fleet,  231.  His  scheme  to  pre- 
vent the  retreat  of  the  Athenian  galleys,  233. 
Another  scheme  to  retard  their  final  retreat,  235. 
Burns  his  ships,  247.  Is  banished  by  the  Syracu- 
sans, 248.  Ilis  death,  279. 

Hermolaus,  account  of  his  conspiracy  against  Alex- 
ander the  Great,  460.  (Nqle.) 

Herod-otus,  his  character  and  rank  as  a writer,  11. 
(Note.)  His  work  the  intermediate  shade  between 
poetry  and  history,  36.  (Note.)  His  account  of  the 
times  of  Homer  and  Hesiod,  71.  (Note.)  His  his- 
tory of  Cyrus  preferable  to  that  of  Xenophon,  86 


484 


INDEX. 


{Note.)  His  encomium  on  the  climate  of  Ionia,  91. 
{Note.)  His  account  of  the  doctrines  of  Zoroaster, 
95.  His  character  as  an  historian,  275.  Compared 
with  Thucydides,  276. 

Heroic  ages  of  Greece,  review  of  the,  15.  In  reli- 
gion, 23.  In  policy,  27.  In  natural  affections,  28. 
In  war,  30.  In  arts,  31.  Sciences,  ib.  Education, 
ib.  Amusements,  ib.  General  estimate  of  man- 
ners and  institutions,  32. 

Hesiod , his  account  of  the  number  of  the  heathen 
divinities,  26. 

Hexameter  thought  to  be  the  only  kind  of  verse 
known  in  the  time  of  Homer,  71.  (Note.) 

Hieron , king  of  Syracuse,  his  reign,  219. 

Hipparchus , tyrant  of  Athens,  his  character,  165. 

Hippias,  king  of  Athens,  expelled  for  his  oppressive 
government,  99.  (Note.)  Attempt  of  the  Spartans 
to  restore  him,  ib.  He  applies  to  the  Persians,  100. 
Is  killed  at  the  battle  of  Marathon,  107. 

Hippocrates , the  physician,  letters  under  his  name 
shown  to  be  spurious,  192.  (Note.) 

, the  Athenian  general,  defeated  at  Dehum 

by  the  Thebans,  209. 

Hippodrome , for  equestrian  exercises,  its  size,  67. 

Histiceus,  tyrant  of  Miletus,  opposes  the  scheme  of 
cutting  off  the  retreat  of  Darius  Hystaspes  from 
Scythia,  97.  Attaches  himself  to  Darius,  ib.  His 
scheme  to  withdraw  himself,  ib.  Assists  in  crush- 
ing the  revolt  in  Ionia,  102.  His  intrigues  and 
death,  ib. 

Homer,  his  poems  illustrate  the  obscure  antiquities 
of  his  country,  12.  His  account  of  the  ancient 
Greek  method  of  barter,  13.  (Note.)  His  poems 
long  an  authority  to  settle  disputed  boundaries,  19. 
Inquiry  into  his  authority  as  an  historian,  22.  His 
mythology  conformable  to  popular  belief,  23.  Re- 
mark on  his  description  of  the  shield  of  Achilles, 
27.  (Note.)  Exhibits  moving  scenes  of  conjugal 
affection,  29.  His  account  of  the  state  of  arts,  30. 
His  poems  collected  by  Lycurgus,  and  brought  to 
Sparta,  41.  The  time  when  he  lived  ascertained, 
ib.  (Note.)  71.  (Note.) 

Honour , the  modern  point  of,  unknown  to  the 
Greeks,  and  of  Scythian  origin,  79. 

Horse-races,  why  not  so  early  practised  as  chariot- 
races  at  the  Grecian  public  games,  67. 

Hume,  Mr.  his  encomium  on  the  Roman  laws,  162. 
(Note.) 

Hydaspes,  passage  of  Alexander  the  Great  over  that 
river,  450.  Porus  defeated  by  Alexander,  452. 
Alexander’s  passage  down  that  river,  453. 

Hyperides , decree  passed  at  Athens  on  his  motion, 
420. 

I 

Iambic,  and  epode,  distinction  between,  74. 

Ideas,  Plato’s  doctrine  of,  361. 

Inarus,  a Lybian  chief,  heads  a revolt  of  the  Egyp- 
tians against  Artaxerxes,  155. 

India,  an  expedition  to,  undertaken  by  Alexander 
the  Great,  448.  The  expedition  of  Bacchus  to,  449. 
(Note.) 

Infantry  more  useful  in  war  than  cavalry,  86. 

Inheritance,  the  law  of,  during  the  heroic  ages  of 
Greece,  27. 

Ionia,  the  original  inhabitants  of,  12.  Is  settled  by 
Grecian  fugitives,  35.  Their  prosperity  there,  ib., 
1.  Successful  cultivation  of  arts,  82.  The  Ionians 
solicit  the  friendship  of  Cyrus,  91.  The  Ionian 
confederacy,  ib.  Application  to  the  mother-coun- 
try for  assistance,  92.  Is  over-run  by  the  Persians, 
ib.  Revolt  of,  against  the  Persians,  97.  Are  as- 
sisted by  the  Athenians,  100.  But  at  length  desert- 
ed by  them,  101.  Exertions  of  the  Persians  to  sup- 
press them,  102.  Siege  of  Miletus,  ib.  Defeat  the 
Grecian  fleet,  but  lose  that  city,  103.  The  country 
recovers  its  prosperity  under  the  Persian  govern- 
ment, ib.  Their  ships  desert  from  the  Persians  at  I 
the  battle  of  Salamis,  126.  Battle  of  Mycale,  135.  I 
Great  progress  of  the  fine  arts  there,  177. 


Iphicrates  commands  the  Grecian  auxiliaries  sent  to 
Persia,  but  returns  disgusted  at  the  service,  323. 
Is  sent  with  an  army  to  assist  the  Spartans  against 
the  Theban  invasion,  335.  His  conduct  censured, 
336.  Is  tried  for  failure  of  duty,  355.  Dies  in  ex- 
ile, ib. 

Iphitus,  institutes  the  regular  celebration  of  the 
Olympic  games,  39. 

Iron,  its  scarcity  in  early  times,  43.  The  coinage  of 
it  into  money  at  Sparta,  ib! 

Isadus,  a Spartan,  romantic  story  of,  348.  (Note.) 

Ischylus,  his  desperate  defence  of  Sciritis  against 
the  Arcadians,  333. 

Isocrates , his  encomium  on  Pythagoras,  141.  (Note.) 
His  character  of  the  Eleusinian  mysteries,  250. 
(Note.)  His  character  of  the  aristocratical  factions 
supported  by  Lysander,  262.  (Note.)  His  charac- 
ter as  an  orator,  360.  Motives  of  his  conduct  in 
reference  to  Philip  of  Macedon,  361. 

Issus,  battle  of,  434. 

Ithome  maintained  by  the  Messenians  against  the 
Spartans,  52.  Is  reduced  by  the  Spartans,  53.  The 
fortress  of,  seized  by  the  Helots,  157.  Long  siege 
and  reduction  of,  ib. 

J 

Jason  undertakes  the  Argonautic  expedition,  15. 

of  Pherae,  his  character  and  fortunes,  329. 

Conference  between  him  and  Polydamas,  ib.  Is 
declared  captain-general  of  the  Thessalians,  330. 
His  conquests,  ib.  Courts  an  alliance  with  Thebes 
ib.  His  views  in  mediating  a truce  between  The- 
bes and  Sparta,  331.  His  assassination,  ib. 

Josephus,  the  authenticity  of  his  history  of  the  Jews 
defended,  141.  (Note.)  Reasons  for  discrediting 
his  account  of  the  journey  of  Alexander  the  Great 
to  Jerusalem,  438.  (Note.) 

Jupiter,  temple  of,  at  Olympia,  described,  158.  Com 
parison  of,  with  other  Grecian  temples,  ib.  Tem- 
ple of,  in  Agrigentum  described,  279. 

(Ammon,)  the  situation  of  the  oracle  of,  de 

described,  439.  Is  visited  by  Alexander  the  Great 
ib. 

Justin,  his  character  of  Arrybus,  330.  (Note.) 

Juvenal,  his  satires  qriticised,  113.  (Note.) 

K 

Knowledge , human,  Plato’s  account  of  the  origin  of, 
362 

L 

Laconia  described,  48.  See  Sparta. 

Lacrines,  a Spartan  deputy,  his  declaration  to  Cyrus, 

Lamachus,  his  advice  to  the  Athenian  commanders 
of  the  armament  sent  to  Sicily,  224.  Is  killed  be- 
fore Syracuse,  229. 

Lampsacus  is  taken  by  Lysander,  258. 

Land , an  idea  of  property  in,  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant steps  in  the  progress  of  society,  13.  Dis- 
puted boundaries  of,  in  Greece,  long  settled  by  the 
authority  of  Homer’s  poems,  19.  How  cultivated 
in  Greece,  during  the  heroic  ages,  27.  How  divi- 
ded in  Sparta,  by  the  laws  of  Lycurgus,  42. 

Langarus,  chief  of  the  Agrians,  assists  Alexander  in 
his  return  to  Pella,  424. 

Language,  general  comparison  between  that  of 
Greece  and  that  of  the  Orientals,  14.  (Note.)  Causes 
of  the  perfection  of  the  Greek  language,  68.  Con- 
nection between  the  melody  of  language  and  that 
of  music,  69. 

Laocoon,  the  fine  expression  in  this  piece  of  sculp- 
ture, 180. 

Larissa,  vigorous  defence  of,  against  Thimbron,  297. 
Is  reduced  by  Dercyllidas,  ib. 

Leodamas,  commander  of  an  Athenian  convoy  of 
provisions  to  Selymbria,  seized  by  the  Macedoni- 
ans, 409.  The  ships  restored  by  Philip,  ib. 


INDEX.  485 


Leonidas , succeeds  to  the  throne  of  Sparta,  112. 
Commands  the  Peloponnesians  in  the  straits  of 
Thermopylae,  116.  Repels  the  attacks  of  the  Per- 
sians, 117.  His  magnanimity  on  discovering  the 
treachery  of  Epialtes,  119.  Surprises  the  Persian 
camp  in  the  night,  ib.  Is  killed  in  the  battle  of 
Thermopylae,  120. 

Leontiades , betrays  the  citadel  of  Thebes  to  Phcebi- 
das  the  Spartan  general,  318.  Is  killed  by  Pelo- 
pidas,  320.  ’ 

Leotychides,  the  reputed  son  of  Agis  king  of  Sparta, 
his  doubtful  legitimacy,  242.  His  pretensions 
to  the  crown  of  Sparta  disputed  by  Agesilaus, 
299. 

Lesbos,  description  and  history  of  that  island,  194. 
Its  political  connection  with  Athens,  195.  Mea- 
sures taken  by  the  Lesbians  preparatory  to  a revolt, 
ib.  They  join  the  confederacy  against  Athens,  ib. 
Siege  of  Mytilene,  196.  The  city  surrenders,  ib. 
Treatment  of  the  inhabitants,  198. 

Leuctra,  battle  of,  327. 

Literature,  state  of,  in  Greece,  at  the  close  of  the 
social  war  of  Athens,  358.  State  of,  in  the  age  of 
Alexander  the  Great,  463. 

Lucian , his  encomium  on  the  Cnidian  Venus,  356. 

Lycomedes,  the  leader  of  the  Arcadians,  defeats  the 
Spartans,  332.  His  character,  337.  His  spirited 
address  to  his  countrymen,  ib.  Is  defeated  by 
Archidamus,  338.  His  firm  opposition  to  Pelopi- 
das’s  treaty,  341.  Effects  a peace  between  the 
Arcadians  and  the  Athenians,  343. 

Lycurgus,  the  Spartan  legislator,  regulates  the  athletic 
exercises  in  the  Olympic  games,  39.  State  of 
Greece  in  his  age,  40.  Occasion  of  his  travelling, 
ib.  Collects  the  poems  of  Homer,  and  brings 
them  to  Sparta,  41.  The  main  objects  of  his  legis- 
lation, ib.  His  favourable  reception  at  Delphi,  ib. 
His  regulations  for  the  distribution  of  political 
power,  42.  Institutes  the  Ephori,  ib.  His  laws 
concerning  property,  ib.  Introduces  iron  money, 
43.  Effects  of  his  institutions,  ib.  His  laws  com- 
prised in  memorial  verses,  ib.  His  expedients  to 
encourage  population,  44.  His  care  of  the  wo- 
men, 45.  Of  education,  ib.  Coincidence^of  his 
institutions  with  those  of  the  heroic  ages,  46. 
Causes  which  undermined  his  institutions,  47.  His 
expedient  to  bind  the  Spartans  to  preserve  his 
laws,  ib.  Conformity  between  his  institutions  and 
those  of  Pythagoras,  144. 

Lycurgus,  the  orator,  stimulates  the  Athenians  to 
put  Lysicles  to  death,  420. 

Lydia,  its  ancient  limits,  81.  Brief  history  of,  82. 
Sardis  taken  by  Cyrus,  90. 

Lysander,  commander  of  the  Peloponnesian  forces, 
his  character,  251.  His  conference  with  Cyrus, 
son  of  Darius,  ib.  Procures  an  augmentation  of 
pay  for  the  Grecian  seamen,  252.  Defeats  the 
Athenian  fleet,  253.  His  capacity  for  party  in- 
trigues, ib.  Is  succeeded  by  Callicratidas,  254. 
Resum6s  the  command  of  the  fleet,  and  takes 
Lampsacus,  258.  Defeats  and  captures  the  Athe- 
nian fleet,  259.  Puts  his  prisoners  to  death,  ib. 
Reduces  the  coasts  and  islands  of  Asia  and  Eu- 
rope, 260.  Besieges  and  takes  Athens,  261,  262. 
His  cruel  treatment  of  the  conquered  provinces, 

262.  Procures  the  death  of  Alcibiades,  266.  He 
invests  Thrasybulus  in  the  Piraeus,  267.  His  ope- 
rations opposed  by  Pausanias,  ib.  Espouses  the 
pretensions  of  Agesilaus  to  the  Spartan  crown, 
299.  Is  disgusted  at  the  treatment  he  receives 
from  him,  300.  His  invasion  of  the  Theban  terri- 
tory, 304.  Is  killed  before  Haliartus,  ib. 

Lysias,  the  orator,  his  account  of  the  persecution  of 
himself  and  family  by  the  thirty  tyrants  of  Athens, 

263.  Collects  a body,  and  joins  Thrasybulus  to 
oppose  them,  266.  Character  of  his  orations,  354. 
(Note.)  His  character  as  an  orator,  359. 

Lysicles,  one  of  the  Athenian  generals  at  the  battle 
of  Cheronsa,  his  indiscreet  conduct,  418.  Is  put 
to  death,  420. 

Lysippus,  his  eminence  as  a caster  in  bronze,  464. 


Lyciscus  preserves  his  daughter  from  being  sacrificed 
by  the  Messenians,  52. 

M 

Macedonia,  the  coast  of,  described,  185.  Revolts 
from  the  Athenian  government,  instigated  by  the 
Corinthians,  ib.  And  the  Spartans,  209.  Perdiccas 
established  on  the  throne  of  Macedon  by  Pelopi- 
das,  339.  The  first  principality  founded  there  by 
Caranus,  365.  Primary  cause  of  the  greatness  of 
Macedon,  ib.  Brief  history  of,  preceding  the  reign 
of  Archelaus  I.  ib.  Revolutions  in,  to  the  restora- 
tion of  Amyntas  II.  366.  Distracted  state  of  the 
country  on  the  death  of  Perdiccas,  367.  Philip 
declared  king,  368.  The  Olynthian  territory 
added  to  Macedon,  389.  Macedon  declared  a 
member  of  the  Hellenic  body,  400.  Liberal  spirit 
of  the  Macedonian  government,  421. — See  Alex- 
ander. 

Magna  Grcecia,  occasion  of  giving  this  name  to  the 
southern  division  of  Italy,  54.  History  of  the  colo- 
nization of,  138.  General  causes  of  the  prosperity 
of  these  colonies,  139.  Their  manners  and  policy 
improved  by  Pythagoras,  141.  Decline  of,  and 
destruction  of  the  Pythagoreans,  146. 

Malli,  fortress  of  the,  besieged  by  Alexander,  454. 

Mantincea,  battle  of,  216.  Its  situation  described, 
314.  Haughty  message  received  there,  from  the 
Spartan  government,  ib.  The  town  besieged  and 
taken  by  Agesipolis,  315.  The  inhabitants  refuse 
their  share  of  the  Olympic  treasure,  346.  Attempt 
of  Epaminondas  to  surprise  this  city,  348.  Victory 
gained  by  Epaminondas  before  that  city,  ib. 

Marathon,  battle  of,  107. 

Mardonius , his  character,  and  expedition  to  Greece, 
104.  His  fleet  destroyed  by  a storm,  ib.  Left  in 
charge  of  Greece  on  the  retreat  of  Xerxes,  127. 
Enters  into  a negotiation  with  the  Athenians,  129. 
His  address  to  the  Athenians,  ib.  The  ill  success 
of  his  solicitations,  129.  Ravages  Attica,  130.  His 
death,  134. 

Marriage,  the  obligations  and  ceremonies  of,  during 
the  heroic  ages  of  Greece,  28.  Conjugal  affection, 
29. 

Masistius,  a Persian  general,  killed  in  a skirmish 
with  the  Athenians,  132. 

Masques,  why  worn  by  performers  on  the  Grecian 
theatre,  353. 

Mauvillon,  Major,  his  proposed  correction  of  Xeno- 
phon examined,  290.  (Note.) 

Measure,  its  use  in  regulating  the  rhythm  of  ancient 
music,  70.  The  great  varieties  of,  ib. 

Mechanical  arts,  state  of,  in  the  heroic  ages  of 
Greece,  31. 

Medea  carried  into  Greece  by  the  Argonauts,  16. 

Megabazus,  the  Persian  general,  raises  the  siege  of 
Memphis,  155.  Reduces  the  Grecian  army  in  Pro- 
sopis  to  capitulation,  ib. 

Megacreon,  of  Abdera.,  his  remark  on  the  rapacity  of 
Xerxes’s  Persian  army,  116.  (Note.) 

Megalopolis,  the  city  of,  founded,  338. 

Megara,  quarrel  between  that  state  and  Athens,  186. 
(Note.)  Invaded  by  Pericles,  191. 

Melampus,  the  Grecian  bard,  who,  72. 

Melanthus , king  of  Messenia,  dispossessed  by  the 
Heraclida;,  34.  Becomes  king  of  Attica,  ib. 

Melody  of  the  Grecian  music,  70.  Distinctions  under 
this  head,  ib.  Connection  between  that  of  lan- 
guage and  that  of  music,  ib. 

Melos,  island  of,  described,  217.  Conference  be- 
tween Athens  and  Melos,  ib.  Reduction  of  Melos, 
219. 

Melville,  General,  account  of  his  model  of  the  seats 
of  the  rowers  in  the  ancient  galleys,  62.  (Note.) 

Memphis,  besieged  by  the  Athenians,  and  relieved 
by  Megabazus,  155. 

Menelaus,  his  marriage  with  Helen  of  Sparta,  21. 
Who  is  seduced  from  him  by  Paris,  ib.  Animates 
the  Grecian  states  to  revenge  his  cause,  ib. 

Messenia,  described,  48.  The  people,  ib.  Causes  of 


486 


INDEX. 


the  war  with  Sparta,  49.  Ampheia  seized  by  the 
Spartans,  50.  And  the  country  plundered,  ib.  An 
indecisive  battle  with  the  Spartans,  52.  The 
Messenians  retire  to  Ithome,  ib.  Ithome  reduced, 
53.  Severe  terms  imposed  by  the  Spartans,  ib.  Re- 
volt against  the  Spartans,  ib.  Battle  of  Derae,  55. 
Successful  exploits  against  the  Spartans,  ib.  Ar- 
istofnenes  defeated,  57.  Disastrous  end  of  the 
second  Messenian  war,  60.  The  third  Messenian 
war,  157.  The  Messenians  driven  from  Greece  by 
the  Spartans,  277.  Messene  rebuilt  by  Epaminon- 
das,  335. 

Messina , city  of,  founded,  60. 

Metaphysics  of  Aristotle,  account  of,  466. 

Methymna  taken  by  Callicratidas,  255. 

Midea,  battle  of,  338. 

Miletus , a city  of  Ionia,  besieged  by  the  Persians,  101. 
Is  taken,  103.  Battle  of,  241. 

Military  discipline  of  the  Grecians,  106.  Of  the  Per- 
sians, 107. 

Miltiades,  king  of  Cardia,  recommends  cutting  off 
the  retreat  of  Darius  Hystaspes  from  Scythia,  97. 
Retires  to  Athens,  ib.  Advises  the  Athenians  to 
risk  a battle  with  the  Persian  invaders,  106.  Obtains 
the  sole  command  of  the  Athenian  forces,  107.  Dis- 
position of  his  army  at  the  battle  of  Marathon,  ib. 
Honours  bestowed  on  him  after  this  victory,  109. 
Is  vested  with  the  command  of  the  fleet,  ib.  His 
motive  for  besieging  Paros,  ib.  Cause  of  his  failure, 
ib.  His  death,  ib.  * 

Milton , his  description  of  the  Grecian  mode  of  march- 
ing to  battle,  216.  (Note.) 

Minerva,  the  statue  of,  formed  by  Phidias,  179,  250. 
Anniversary  of  the  Plynteria,  how  observed,  ib. 

Minos,  the  elder,  his  history  and  character,  18. 

, the  second,  his  feharacter,  18.  His  generosity 

to  Theseus,  ib. 

Minotaur,  the  fabulous  accounts  of,  exploded,  18. 

Money,  iron,  the  use  of,  introduced  in  Sparta  by  Ly- 
curgus,  43. 

Morals,  Plato’s  doctrine  concerning,  362.  Causes  of 
the  diversity  of  moral  character,  364. 

Mosyncecians,  the  singular  structure  of  their  habita- 
tions, 294. 

Music,  that  of  Greece  described,  68.  Why  intro- 
duced at  the  public  games,  ib.  Its  extent,  and  the 
purposes  to  which  it  was  applied,  ib.  Causes  of 
its  perfection,  ib.  Melody  of,  69.  Connection 
between  the  melody  of  language  and  of  music,  70. 
Counterpoint  not  understood  by  the  Greeks,  71. 
(Note.)  Influence  of  the  musical  contests  at  the 
public  games,  80.  Its  extensive  influence  over 
mankind,  353.  State  of,  in  the  age  of  Alexander 
the  Great,  464. 

My  cede,  battle  of,  135. 

Mycenae,  town  of,  destroyed  by  the  Argives,  159. 

Myronides,  the  Athenian  general,  defeats  the  The- 
bans near  Tanagra,  159. 

Mythology  of  the  Greeks  justified  by  popular  belief, 
23.  Compared  with  that  of  the  ancient  Germans, 
ib.  The  powerful  effects  of,  asserted,  in  opposi- 
tion to  late  inquiries,  24.  Attempts  to  derive  the 
Grecian  mythology  from  more  remote  sources, 
hitherto  unsuccessful,  ib.  Philosophical  deduction 
of,  25.  Moral  tendency  of,  26.  The  abuses  of,  un- 
known during  the  heroic  ages,  ib.  Its  influence 
on  the  political  state  of  Greece,  27. 

Mytilene,  capital  of  Lesbos,  besieged  by  the  Atheni- 
ans, 195.  Surrenders,  196.  Narrow  escape  of 
the  inhabitants,  198.  The  city  demolished,  ib. 

N 

Nature,  one  universal  system  of,  470. 

Naupactus,  a settlement  granted  there  by  the  Athe- 
nians to  the  Spartan  Helots  and  Messenians,  157. 
Assists  the  Athenians  in  the  Peloponnesian  war, 
203,  207.  The  Messenians  of  Naupactus  driven 
out  of  Greece  by  the  Spartans,  277. 

Navigation  generally  applied  by  the  early  Greeks  to 
piratical  purposes,  15. 


Nearchus,  his  famous  voyage  from  the  mouth  of  the 
Indus  to  that  of  the  Euphrates,  453. 

Nebros  of  Cos,  undertakes  the  cure  of  the  pestilence 
in  the  Amphictyonic  army  before  Crissa,  64. 
Poisons  the  water  that  supplied  the  city,  65. 

Neobule,  a Parian  damsel  beloved  by  Archilochus, 
her  unhappy  fate,  74. 

Niceratus  and  his  son  put  to  death  by  the  thirty  ty- 
rants of  Athens,  263. 

Nichomachus  betrays  the  operations  of  the  Atheni- 
ans in  Bceotia  to  the  Spartans,  208. 

Nicias  of  Athens,  his  character,  206.  Reduces  the 
island  Cythera,  208.  Accomplishes  a peace  with 
Sparta,  212.  Opposes  the  Sicilian  expedition,  221. 
His  stratagem  to  deceive  the  Syracusans,  227. 
Defeats  them  in  battle,  228.  He  prepares  for  ano- 
ther campaign,  ib.  His  armament  reinforced,  229. 
Applies  to  Athens  for  farther  assistance,  230.  Ar- 
rival of  Demosthenes  with  a fleet,  232.  Is  defeat- 
ed in  a general  engagement,  ib.  Prepares  for 
another  sea  fight,  234.  His  address  to  his  de- 
sponding troops,  236.  His  prudent  order  of  re- 
treat, ib.  Is  harassed  by  the  enemy,  ib.  Surren- 
ders himself  and  his  men  to  Gylippus,  238.  Is  put 
to  death,  ib. 

Nicias,  the  Athenian  painter,  his  chief  excellence, 
and  principal  works,  357. 

Nicostratus  commands  the  Athenian  squadron  sent 
to  the  relief  of  Corcyra,  200.  His  judicious  con- 
duct in  an  engagement  with  the  Peloponnesian 
fleet  at  Corcyra,  ib. 

Niobe,  the  sculptured  group  of,  described,  180. 

O 

Ode,  in  Grecian  poetry,  the  characteristics  of,  78. 
Their  want  of  the  accompaniments  of  music  and 
dancing,  ib. 

Olympia,  description  of  the  temple  of  Jupiter  there, 
158.  The  city  of,  seized  by  the  Arcadians,  who 
celebrate  the  games,  346.  The  Olympic  treasure 
plundered,  ib.  The  temple  restored  to  the  Elians, 
347. 

Olympias,  sister  of  Aribbas  king  of  Epirus,  her  first 
introduction  to  Philip  of  Macedon,  373.  Is  marri- 
ed to  him,  ib.  Her  resentment  at  Philip’s  infidelity, 
422.  Is  reconciled  to  him,  ib 

Olympic  games,  the  origin  of,  traced,  38.  The  imme- 
diate causes  of  their  establishment,  39.  Nature  of 
this  institution,  and  its  important  consequences,  40. 
Inquiry  into  the  physical  effects  of  the  games,  78. 

Olynthus,  strength  and  power  attained  by  that  city, 
315.  Brave  resistance  made  by,  against  the  Spar- 
tans, 317.  Is  reduced  by  Polybiades,  318.  Revival 
of  the  Olynthian  confederacy,  371.  Philip  invades 
Olynthus,  384.  He  besieges  and  takes  the  city, 
386,  389. 

Onomarchus  conducts  the  retreat  of  the  Phocian 
army,  after  the  death  of  Philomelus,  376.  Is  cho- 
sen general,  and  renews  the  war,  377.  Is  defeated 
and  killed  by  Philip,  378. 

Oracles,  Grecian,  origin  of  the,  traced,  37.  Causes 
which  gave  celebrity  to  that  at  Delphi,  38.  Doubt- 
ful responses  of,  115. 

Oratory , how  corrupted  in  the  age  of  Alexander  the 
Great,  463. 

Orchomenus,  city  of,  destroyed  by  the  Thebans,  346. 

Orpheus  engages  in  the  Argonautic  expedition,  16. 

Ostracism,  in  the  Athenian  law,  explained,  110,  165. 
On  what  occasion  laid  aside,  244.  (Note.) 

Othryades,  the  Spartan,  story  of,  89. 

Oxyartes  defends  the  Sogdian  fortress  against  Alex- 
ander, 444.  Is  reduced,  445. 

P 

Paches  reduces  Mytilen^,  197.  His  character,  and 
unfortunate  end,  199. 

Pceonia,  is  overrun  by  Philip  of  Macedon,  370. 

Pagondas , a Theban  general,  defeats  the  Athenian* 
at  Delium,  208. 


INDEX. 


487 


Painting,  state  of,  in  Greece,  at  the  close  of  the  so- 
cial war  of  Athens,  356.  Great  expression  in  the 
Grecian  'performances,  358.  Colouring,  ib.  Clair 
obscure,  ib.  State  of,  in  the  age  of  Alexander  the 
Great,  464.  Declines  soon  after  his  death,  465. 

Pamphylus,  the  painter  of  Sicyon,  some  account  of, 

Pancratium,  in  the  ancient  gymnastic  exercises,  ex- 
plained, 67. 

Parental  affection,  very  ardent  during  the  heroic  ages 
of  Greece,  29. 

Paris,  son  of  Priam  king  of  Troy,  his  character,  21. 
Seduces  and  carries  otf  Helen,  the  wife  of  Mene- 
laus,  ib. 

Parmenio,  and  his  son  Philotas,  remarks  on  their 
deaths,  460.  ( Note .) 

Paropamisus,  this  chain  of  mountains  passed  by 
Alexander  the  Great,  448. 

Paros,  island  of,  excellences  of  the  marble  there,  105. 
(Note.)  The  island  relieved  from  the  arms  of  Mil- 
tiades,  109. 

Parrhasius,  the  Ephesian  painter,  his  great  power  of 
expression,  353. 

Parthenice,  a class  of  inhabitants  in  Sparta,  54.  Con- 
spire with  the  Helots,  ib.  Form  a settlement  at 
Tarentum,  ib 

Passions,  human,  Plato’s  doctrine  of,  363.  Are  dis- 
eases of  the  mind,  according  to  the  Stoics,  473. 
How  analyzed  by  Epicurus,  474. 

Patrocles,  his  principal  excellence  as  a sculptor,  274. 

, the  Phliasian,  his  speech  at  Athens  in 

favour  of  a defensive  alliance  with  Sparta,  334. 
Assists  at  a renewal  of  it,  336. 

Pausanias  commands  the  Greeks  sent  against  Mar- 
donius,  l31.  Dissensions  in  his  army,  132.  Battle 
of  Plataea,  133.  Takes  Byzantium,  150.  His  treach- 
erous application  to  Xerxes,  ib.  Is  recalled,  151. 
His  death,  ib.  # 

, opposes  the  operations  of  Lysander 

against  Thrasybulus,  in  the  Piraeus,  267.  Peace  of 
Athens  effected  by  his  negotiations,  ib.  His  death, 
304. 

usurps  the  crown  of  Macedon,  366.  Is  dis- 
placed by  Iphicrates,  367. 

Peithias,  of  Corcyra,  assassinated  in  the  senate- 
house,  199. 

Pelasgi  and  Hellenes  distinguished,  12. 

Pella,  the  capital  of  Macedon,  its  situation  described, 
317. 

Pelopidas,  his  birth  and  character,  318.  Restores 
the  democratical  government  of  Thebes,  320. 
Honours  conferred  on  him  by  the  Thebans,  323. 
Commands  the  Theban  Band  at  the  battle  of  Leuc- 
tra,  327.  Is  joined  with  Epaminondas  in  the  com- 
mand of  the  Theban  army  sent  against  the  Spar- 
tans, 333.  Is  intimidated  at  the  censure  of  his 
conduct,  336.  Is  sent  with  an  army  to  settle  the 
affairs  of  Thessaly,  339.  Establishes  Perdiccas  on 
the  throne  of  Macedon,  ib.  Is  treacherously  seiz- 
ed by  Alexander  king  of  Thessaly,  ib.  His  inter- 
view with  queen  Thebe,  340.  Conversation  be- 
tween him  and  Alexander,  ib.  Is  sent  to  negotiate 
at  the  court  of  Persia,  ib.  His  proposals  accepted, 
341.  The  ratification  of  his  treaty  refused  by  the 
Grecian  states,  ib.  His  expedition  to  Thessaly, 
345.  Is  killed  at  the  battle  of  Cynoscephalaj,  ib. 
Honours  paid  to  his  memory,  ib. 

Peloponnesian  war,  origin  and  history  of  the,  181 — 
261. 

Peloponnesus , first  settled  by  Pelops,  13.  How  peo- 
pled by  Grecian  colonies,  14.  The  country  de- 
scribed, 19.  Is  seized  by  the  Heraclidai,  34.  State 
of,  after  the  conquest  of  Messenia,  61. 

Pelops , his  settlement  in  Greece,  13. 

Pentathlon,  in  the  ancient  gymnastic  exercises  ex- 
plained, 67. 

Perdiccas,  king  of  Macedon,  prepares  to  repel  the 
attacks  of  the  Athenians,  209.  Refuses  the  propo- 
sal of  Arribams,  210. 

Pericles , flourishing  state  of  the  polite  arts  in  Athens 
during  his  time,  147.  Influence  of  his  ambition  and 


policy  over  the  Athenian  state,  154.  Extends  the 
power  of  Athens,  159.  His  character,  160.  His 
popularity,  ib.  Parallel  between  him  and  Cimon, 
ib.  Completes  the  democratic  government  of 
Athens,  166.  Encourages  Aristophanes,  and  other 
writers  of  the  ancient  comedy,  173.  His  attach- 
ment to  Aspasia,  175.  Becomes  a liberal  patron 
of  the  fine  arts,  178.  Summons  deputies  from  all 
the  Grecian  republics  to  Athens,  181.  Clamours 
excited  against  him,  188.  His  accusation  and  de- 
fence, ib.  Advises  the  Peloponnesian  war,  189. 
He  invades  Megara,  191.  His  magnanimity  on  oc- 
casion of  the  plague  at  Athens,  192.  His  unsuc- 
cessful naval  expedition  to  the  Peloponnesus,  ib. 
His  reply  to  the  clamours  raised  against  him,  and 
last  advice,  193.  His  death  and  character,  ib. 

Persia,  rise  of  the  power  of  that  kingdom,  86.  De- 
scription of  the  country,  and  its  inhabitants,  ib. 
The  causes  of  the  Persian  grandeur,  ib.  Reduces 
the  states  of  Lower  Asia,  92.  Assyria  conquered, 
94.  Egypt  conquered,  95.  Religion  of  the  Per- 
sians, ib.  Their  manners,  96.  Vigorous  measures 
to  reduce  the  Ionians,  102.  Three  distinct  periods 
into  which  the  invasion  of  Greece  may  be  divided, 
104.  The  unfortunate  expedition  of  Mardonius,  ib. 
Invasion  of  Attica  by  Datis  and  Artaphernes,  ib. 
Battle  of  Marathon,  107.  Preparations  of  Xerxes 
for  another  invasion  of  Greece,  112.  Number  of  his 
forces,  ib.  Battle  of  Thermopylae,  119.  Disasters 
attending  the  Persian  fleet,  120.  First  sea-fight  at 
Artemisium,  121.  The  second,  122.  Battle  of 
Salamis,  126.  Battle  of  Mycale,  135.  See  Mar- 
donius. Character  of  Darius  Nothus  and  the  first 
acts  of  his  reign,  239.  Artaxerxes  and  Cyrus  dis- 
pute the  succession,  281.  Expedition  of  Cyrus 
into  Upper  Asia,  283.  Battle  of  Cynaxa,  285. 
State  of  the  Persian  empire,  at  the  era  of  Alexan- 
der’s eastern  expedition,  427.  Deliberations  of 
the  Persian  satraps,  ib.  Battles  of  the  Granicus, 
of  Issus,  and  of  Arbela,  428,  434,  440.  Death  of 
Darius,  443.  The  government  of  Persia  intrusted 
to  Peucestas,  455. 

Perinthus,  obstinate  defence  of  that  city  against 
Philip  of  Macedon,  408. 

Peripatetics,  appellation  of,  whence  derived,  467. 
Their  tenets,  ib. 

Persepolis,  the  royal  palace  of,  burnt  by  Alexander 
the  great,  442. 

Peucestas  made  governor  of  Persia,  455. 

Phalanx,  Grecian,  described,  106.  Not  instituted  by 
Philip  king  of  Macedon,  369. 

Phalaris,  tyrant  of  Agrigentum,  his  history,  143. 
(Note.) 

Phaleucus,  commander  of  the  Athenian  mercenaries, 
disobeys  orders,  and  seizes  Nicaea,  395.  The  dis- 
asters of  him  and  his  followers,  397. 

Pharax,  commander  of  the  Grecian  fleet,  removed 
by  Agesilaus  in  favour  of  Pisander,  302. 

Pharnabazus,  commands  the  Persian  fleet,  307.  Ob- 
tains the  daughter  of  ArtaxerxesHn  marriage,  309. 

Pharsalus,  wise  administration  of  Polydamus  there, 

329.  Jason  declared  captain  general  of  the  city, 

330. 

Phaselis,  city  of,  reduced  by  Cimon  the  Grecian 
commander,  153. 

Phayllus  renews  the  sacred  war,  379. 

Pherce,  great  authority  of  Jason  there,  329.  See 
Jason,  and  Alexander. 

Phidias,  description  of  his  statue  of  Jupiter  at 
Olympia,  158.  Is  patronised  by  Pericles,  178.  His 
most  distinguished  performances,  ib.  Ilis  statue 
of  Minerva,  179.  His  accusation  and  banishment, 
188.  His  principal  scholars,  274. 

Philip,  afterward  king  of  Macedon,  is  carried  as  a 
hostage  to  Thebes  by  Pelopidas,  367.  His  educa- 
tion, and  early  transactions,  ib  His  return  to 
Macedon,  ib.,  368.  Is  declared  king  of  Macedon, 
368.  His  kind  treatment  of  his  prisoners,  369.  His 
treaty  with  the  Athenians,  ib.  His  military  insti- 
tutions, ib.  He  conquers  Pa’.onia,  370.  His  mo- 
tives for  attacking  the  Illyrians,  ib.  Defeats  and 


488 


INDEX. 


kills  Bardyllis,  ib.  His  motives  for  attacking  Am- 
phipolis,  371.  His  intrigues  at  Athens  and  Olyn- 
thus,  ib.  Besieges  Amphipolis,  372.  Takes,  and 
annexes  this  city  to  Macedon,  ib.  Pursues  his 
conquests  in  Thrace,  ib.  Takes  possession  of  the 
gold  mines  at  Crenidse,  373.  His  advantageous  set- 
Sement  of  the  affairs  of  Thessaly,  ib.  His  mar- 
riage with  Olympias,  ib.  Birth  of  his  son  Alexan- 
der, 374.  His  prosperity,  ib.  His  impenetrable 
policy,  ib.  His  military  operations  in  Thrace,  377. 
Defeats  Lycophron  and  Onomarchus,  378.  He  is 
opposed  at  the  straits  of  Thermopylae  by  the  Athe- 
nians, 379.  Dissembles  his  ambition,  381.  His 
vices,  382.  His  intrigues  at  Eubcea,  384.  Invades 
the  Olynthian  territory,  ib.  Besieges  Olynthus,  386. 
Takes  that  city,  389.  Celebrates  the  festival  of  the 
Muses  at  Dium,  ib.  His  naval  depredations  on 
Attica,  390.  He  seizes  Euboea,  ib.  His  address  in 
gaining  partisans  among  the  Athenians,  ib.  His 
rapid  successes  in  Greece,  392.  His  reception  and 
treatment  of  the  Athenian  ambassadors,  ib.  His 
embassy  to  Athens,  394.  Receives  a third  embassy 
from  Athens,  ib.  His  reply  to  the  Theban  ambas- 
sadors, 396.  Corrupts  and  deludes  the  Athenian 
ambassadors,  ib.  His  flattering  letter  to  the  Athe- 
nians, ib.  Is  vested  with  the  custody  of  the  tem- 
ple of  Delphi  by  the  Amphictyonic  council,  398. 
His  stern  letter  to  the  Athenians,  399.  Honours 
decreed  to  him  by  the  Amphictyonic  council,  ib. 
Evacuates  Greece,  400.  His  expedition  to  Illyria, 
401.  And  to  Thessaly,  ib.  Undertakes  to  protect 
the  Peloponnesians  against  the  oppressions  of 
Sparta,  402.  Attacks  the  Spartan  territories,  404. 
Settles  the  affairs  of  Peloponnesus,  ib.  His  mode- 
ration on  receiving  insults  at  Corinth,  405.  Extends 
the  bounds  of  Epirus,  and  seizes  the  Hallonesus, 
ib.  His  letter  to  the  Athenians,  ib.  Siege  of 
Perinthus,  408.  Defeats  and  kills  Diopeithes,  409. 
Restores  the  convoy  of  provisions  seized  by  Amyn- 
tas,  ib.  Attempts  to  surprise  Byzantium,  410.  Is 
invited  to  the  assistance  of  Atheas,  king  of  Scythia, 
411.  His  expedition  to  chastise  the  perfidy  of 
Atheas,  412.  His  life  saved  by  his  son  Alexander, 
413.  He  is  appointed  general  of  the  Amphicty- 
ons,  ib.  A review  of  his  difficulties  at  this  time, 
ib.  Employs  Antiphon  to  bum  the  Athenian 
docks,  414.  Is  applied  to  by  the  Amphictyons  to 
punish  the  Amphisseans,  416.  Takes  the  city  of 
Amphissa,  ib.  Seizes  Elataea,  417.  Encamps  his 
army  on  the  plain  of  Cheronaea,  418.  Defeats  the 
confederated  Greeks,  ib.  His  levity  on  viewing 
the  field  of  battle,  419.  His  moderate  use  of  vic- 
tory, ib.  Causes  of  his  different  treatment  of 
Athens  and  Thebes,  ib.  Nature  and  extent  of  his 
authority  in  Greece,  421.  Is  appointed  general  of 
the  Grecian  confederacy  against  Persia,  422.  Quar- 
rels with  his  queen  and  his  son  Alexander,  ib.  Is 
assassinated,  ib.  His  character,  ib. 

Philip  the  Arcarnanian,  physician  to  Alexander  the 
Great,  Alexander’s  confidence  in  him,  433. 

Philippopolis,  founded  by  Philip  of  Macedon,  401. 

Philocles,  associate  of  Conon  in  the  command  of  the 
Athenian  fleet,  his  character,  257.  Instance  of 
his  presumption  and  cruelty,  259.  Is  taken  prison- 
er by  Lysander,  ib.  And  put  to  death,  ib. 

Philomelus , the  Phocian,  instigates  his  countrymen 
to  withstand  the  decree  of  the  Amphictyonic  coun- 
cil, 375.  Seizes  the  temple  of  Delphi,  376.  Em- 
ploys the  sacred  treasure  in  raising  mercenaries, 
ib.  His  defeat  and  desperate  end,  ib. 

Philosophy,  rise  and  decline  of,  at  Athens,  168.  State 
of,  at  the  close  of  the  social  war  of  Athens,  356. 
State  of,  in  the  age  of  Alexander  the  Great,  466. 
Tenets  of  the  Peripatetics,  467.  Estimate  of 
Aristotle’s  philosophy,  470.  Tenets  of  the  Stoics, 
ib.  Philosophy  of  Epicurus,  474.  That  of  Pyrrho, 
475. 

Phlius,  republic  of,  takes  arms  at  the  renewal  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  215.  Is  subjected  by  the  Spar- 
tans, 315.  Fidelity  of  that  republic  to  Sparta,  344. 

Pkoccea,  a city  of  Ionia,  besieged  by  Harpagus  the 


Persian  general,  93.  Is  deserted  by  the  inhabi- 
tants, ib.  Who  remove  to  Corsica,  ib. 

Phocians  incur  the  censure  of  the  Amphictyonic 
council,  375.  They  resolve  to  withstand  the  de- 
cree, ib.  They  seize  the  temple  of  Delphi,  ib 
Are  defeated  by  the  Thebans  and  their  allies,  376. 
The  war  renewed  by  Onomarchus,  377.  The  Pho- 
cians intimidated,  condemn  the  plunderers  of  the 
treasure  of  Delphi,  395.  Are  again  defeated  by 
the  Thebans,  ib.  Are  deluded  into  security  by 
Philip,  397.  Cruel  decree  of  the  Amphictyonic 
council  against  them,  398.  Which  is  executed  by 
Philip,  ib.  The  fugitives  received  by  the  Atheni- 
ans, 399.  Philippopolis  and  Cabyla  settled  with 
Phocian  captives  by  Philip,  401. 

Phocion,  the  motives  of  his  conduct  in  reference  to 
Philip  of  Macedon,  380.  Defeats  the  Macedonians 
and  Eubceans,  384.  Expels  the  Macedonians  from 
Euboea,  408.  Arrives  at  Byzantium  with  a fleet, 
and  saves  the  Thracian  cities,  410.  Is  vested  with 
the  supreme  command,  after  the  defeat  at  Chero- 
naea, 420. 

Phoebidas,  the  Spartan  general,  seizes  the  citadel  of 
Thebes,  318.  Is  protected  by  Agesilaus,  ib.  His 
death,  322. 

Phoenicians,  a colony  of,  under  Cadmus,  settled  at 
Thebes,  13.  Instructed  the  Greeks  in  navigation 
and  commerce,  14. 

Phrygia,  invasion  of,  by  Agesilaus,  301.  Character 
of  the  Phrygians,  ib. 

Phrynichus  preserves  the  Athenian  fleet  from  the 
superior  fleet  of  the  Peloponnesians,  241.  Coun 
teracts  the  intrigues  of  Alcibiades,  243.  Assists 
in  overturning  the  democracy,  244.  His  death, 

Phrynon,  the  Athenian,  his  embassy  to  Philip  of 
Macedon,  391.  Is  sent  again,  391. 

Phyllidas,  the  Theban,  his  character,  319.  Engages 
in  the  conspiracy  of  Pelopidas,  ib. 

Pindar,  the  ancient  Greek  poet,  memoirs  of,  76. 
His  works,  77.  His  characteristic  excellence,  78. 
His  house  and  family  spared  by  Alexander  at  the 
demolition  of  Thebes,  426. 

Piraeus,  the  harbour  of  Athens,  built  and  fortified  by 
Themistocles,  149. 

Pisa,  cause  of  the  war  between  that  city  and  Elis, 
and  the  destruction  of  the  former,  157. 

Pisander,  his  conspiracy  against  the  democratical 
government  of  Athens,  243.  Proposes  the  govern- 
ment of  the  four  hundred,  245.  Is  defeated  at  sea, 
and  killed  by  Conon,  307. 

Pisistratus,  how  he  acquired  the  supreme  authority 
at  Athens,  and  his  character,  99,  165. 

Piso,  one  of  the  thirty  tyrants  of  Athens,  his  rapa- 
cious treatment  of  Lysias,  263. 

Pittacus,  the  lawgiver  of  Mitylene,  195. 

Plague  at  Athens,  account  of  the,  192. 

Platcea,  battle  of,  133.  The  city  of,  surprised  by  the 
Thebans,  189.  Recovered  by  a ready  expedient  of 
the  inhabitants,  190.  Is  reduced  by  the  Spartans, 
194.  And  finally  destroyed,  and  the  inhabitants 
driven  into  exile,  323. 

Plato,  his  birth  and  education,  360.  Character  of 
his  works,  ib.  {Note.)  His  travels,  and  settlement 
in  the  Academy,  ib.  General  character  of  his  phi- 
losophy, ib.  Difficulty  of  explaining  and  abridging 
his  doctrines,  361.  His  great  views,  ib.  His  theo- 
logy, ib.  His  doctrine  of  ideas,  ib.  His  morals, 
362.  His  account  of  the  origin  of  human  know- 
ledge, ib.  Of  the  powers  of  perception  and  intel- 
lect, 363.  Of  the  passions,  ib.  Of  virtue,  ib.  His 
doctrine  of  a future  state,  364.  His  republic,  ib. 
His  genius  and  character,  ib.  Compared  with 
Socrates,  ib. 

Pleasure  and  pain,  how  analyzed  by  Epicurus,  474. 

Pliny,  his  advice  to  3Iaximus,  162.  (Note.)  Remarks 
on  his  accounts  of  the  Grecian  artists,  356.  (Note.) 
357.  (Note.)  358.  (Note.)  ib.  (Note.) 

Plutarch,  his  account  of  the  operations  of  the  laws 
of  Lycurgus  at  Sparta,  43.  His  character  of  Anti- 
phon, 243.  (Note.) 


INDEX. 


489 


Plynteria , the  anniversary  of,  how  observed  at 
Athens,  250. 

Poetry , and  music,  early  connected,  68.  Ascribes 
wonderful  power  to  the  Grecian  music,  71.  Cir- 
cumstances that  improved  the  Grecian  poetry,  72. 
Satire,  how  introduced,  73.  Elegy,  ib.  The  ode, 
77.  Influence  of  the  poetical  contests  at  the  public 
games,  79.  State  of,  in  the  age  of  Alexander  the 
Great,  464. 

Polemarchus,  the  brother  of  Lysias,  poisoned  by  the 
thirty  tyrants  of  Athens,  263. 

Pollis,  the  Spartan  admiral,  defeated  by  the  Atheni- 
ans near  Naxos,  322. 

Polybiades,  the  Spartan  general,  reduces  the  city  of 
Olynthus,  317. 

Polybius , his  erroneous  representations  of  the  Athe- 
nian history,  163.  (Note. ; 

Polychares , the  Messenian,  how  defrauded  by  Eu- 
ephnus  the  Laceda;monian,49.  Fatal  consequences 
of  this  transaction,  50. 

Polyclitas,  his  great  skill  in  statuary,  356. 

Polydainus , his  wise  administration  in  Pharsalus, 
329.  Conference  between  him  and  Jason  of  Phe- 
rte,  ib.  Procures  for  Jason  the  supreme  command 
of  Thessaly,  330. 

Porus , king,  disputes  the  passage  of  Alexander  the 
Great  over  the  Hydaspes,  450.  He  is  defeated, 
451.  Is  reinstated  by  Alexander,  452.  Obtains  all 
Alexander’s  Indian  acquisitions,  ib. 

Potidcea,  besieged  by  the  Athenians,  and  assisted  by 
the  Corinthians,  136.  Is  reduced,  194. 

Praxiteles , his  great  skill  in  statuary,  356.  His  two 
statues  of  Venus,  ib. 

Priam , king  of  Troy,  his  history,  20. 

Property,  judicial  decisions  of,  during  the  heroic  ages 
of  Greece,  27. 

Prosopis,  the  Grecian  army  besieged  there  by  Me- 
gabazus,  the  Persian  general,  155.  The  Grecians 
capitulate,  ib. 

Protogenes , the  painter,  patronised  by  Apelles,  464. 

Psammenitus,  king  of  Egypt,  reduced  by  Cambyses 
king  of  Persia,  95. 

Psytlalea , island  of,  occupied  by  the  flower  of  the 
Persian  infantry  previous  to  the  battle  of  Salamis, 

126.  Where  they  are  cut  to  pieces  by  the  Greeks, 

127. 

Pylus,  fortified  by  Demosthenes,  204.  Attack  of,  by 
the  Spartans,  205. 

Pyrgoteles , his  eminence  as  an  engraver  on  gems,  464. 

Pyrrho , account  of  his  philosophy,  475. 

Pythagoras , his  history,  141.  Cause  of  the  fabulous 
relations  of  his  travels,  ib.  His  acquisitions  in 
Egypt,  ib.  His  definition  of  a philosopher,  142. 
Is  highly  honoured  in  Italy,  ib.  His  manner  of 
life,  ib.  Effects  a reformation  in  the  manners  of 
the  citizens  of  Crotona,  143.  Forms  his  disciples 
into  an  exclusive  society,  ib.  His  politics,  ib. 
His  morality,  ib.  His  system  of  education,  144. 
His  rules  for  the  conduct  of  his  disciples,  ib. 
Conformity  of  these  with  the  institutions  of  Lycur- 

fus,  ib.  Origin  of  the  fictions  concerning  him,  ib. 

lis  death,  145.  His  disciples  in  Magna  Graicia 
destroyed,  146. 

Pythia , the  priestess  of  Apollo  at  Delphi,  her  mode 
of  delivering  the  oracles  there,  38. 

Pythian  games,  description  of  the,  66. 

Python  of  Byzantium,  his  character  and  embassy 
from  Philip  of  Macedon  to  Athens,  405. 

R 

Rennel,  major,  ascertains  the  place  where  Alexander 
the  Great  crossed  the  Indus,  449.  (Note.)  His  ac- 
count of  the  eastern  boundary  of  Alexander’s  con- 
quests, 453.  (Note.) 

Resignation , the  Stoical  doctrine  of,  473. 

Rhapsodhts  of  the  Greeks,  their  high  authority  and 
influence  on  society,  72. 

Rhegium  settled  by  Greeks,  54,  60. 

Rhythm  of  ancient  music,  how  regulated,  70. 

Romans , their  religion  mere  plagiarism  from  that  of 
3 Q 


the  Greeks,  26.  (Nate.)  Send  deputies  to  Athens, 
to  obtain  a copy  of  Solon’s  laws,  162.  (Note.)  Dif- 
ference between  the  Roman  and  Athenian  govern- 
ments, 164.  (Note.)  Conquer  the  western  division 
of  Alexander’s  empire,  462. 

Rousseau,  Jean  Jaques,  his  system  of  education,  144. 
(Note.) 

Roxana,  the  daughter  of  Oxyartes,  taken  prisoner  by 
Alexander  the  Great,  and  married  hy  him,  445. 


Sacred  band  of  Thebans,  account  of,  326. 

Sacred  war,  origin  and  principal  events  of  the,  63 
Sacred  war  against  the  Phocians,  history  of,  375. 

Sages,  the  seven,  peculiarly  distinguished  among  the 
Greek  philosophers,  168. 

Salcethus,  a Spartan  general,  goes  to  the  relief  of 
Mytilene,  besieged  by  the  Athenians,  196.  Is  put 
to  death  by  the  Athenians,  198. 

Salamis,  sea  engagement  off  that  island,  126. 

Samos,  favoured  by  the  Persians,  103.  Revolt  of  the 
Athenian  troops  there,  245.  Is  reduced  by  Lysan- 
der,  262. 

Sana,  a canal  cut  through  the  isthmus  of,  by  Xerxes, 
113. 

Sandanis,  his  prudent  advice  to  Croesus  king  of  Ly- 
dia, 88. 

Sangala  besieged  and  taken  by  Alexander  the  Great, 
452. 

Sardanapalus , king  of  Assyria,  his  tomb  described, 
433. 

Sardis,  battle  of,  between  Cyrus  and  Croesus,  88. 
The  city  taken  by  Cyrus,  90.  Is  retaken  and  de- 
stroyed by  the  Athenians,  101.  But  instantly  re- 
covered, ib. 

Satire,  in  poetry,  origin  of,  accounted  for,  73. 

Satyrus,  the  player,  signal  instance  of  his  friendship 
for  Apollophanes,  390.  (Note.) 

Sciences,  state  of,  during  the  heroic  ages  of  Greece, 
31. 

Scione,  city  of,  reduced  by  the  Athenians,  and  the 
inhabitants  massacred,  217. 

Sculpture,  Greek,  the  most  celebrated  monuments 
of,  pointed  out,  178.  Characteristic  excellence  of, 
179. 

Scyllias  of  Scione,  discovers  the  Persian  stratagems 
to  the  commander  of  the  Grecian  fleet  at  Artemi- 
sium,  121. 

Scytale,  in  the  Spartan  laws,  explained,  151. 

Seuthes,  a Thracian  adventurer,  takes  the  troops 
under  Xenophon  into  his  service,  295.  Conducts 
them  after  a feast  to  instant  action,  296.  Recovers 
his  hereditary  dominions  by  their  assistance,  ib. 
His  ingratitude,  ib. 

Sicily,  colonization  of,  by  Grecians,  133.  Revolutions 
in  that  island,  219.  A general  congress  of  the 
states  of,  220.  Destruction  of  Leontium,  ib.  Siege 
of  Syracuse,  226.  Miserable  retreat  of  the  Athe- 
nians, 235.  Ilow  withdrawn  from  the  sphere  of 
Grecian  politics,  277.  Is  invaded  by  the  Carthagi- 
nians, 278.  Their  excessive  cruelties  towards  the 
inhabitants,  ib.  The  island  reduced  to  the  condi- 
tion of  a Roman  province,  281. 

Sicinus,  his  character,  and  the  important  enterprise 
he  was  entrusted  with  by  Themistoeles,  126.  His 
second  commission  to  Xerxes,  128. 

Sicyen,  the  government  of,  usurped  by  Euphron,  342. 
A school  of  painting  formed  there,  357. 

Sinope,  its  situation,  and  by  whom  built,  292. 

S ixty,  account  of  the  profligate  club  of,  at  Athens,  420 

Social  war  of  Athens,  history  of  the,  354. 

Society,  the  narrow  sphere  of  human  faculties  and 
pursuits,  in  the  infancy  of,  11.  An  idea  of  property 
in  land,  one  of  the  most  important  steps  in  the 
progress  of,  13.  Political,  during  the  heroic  ages 
of  Greece,  a review  of,  27.  The  reciprocal  obli- 
gations of,  unfolded  by  utility,  28. 

Socrates  detects  the  arts  of  the  Sophists,  170.  His 
education  and  character,  ib.  His  philosophy,  171. 

I Is  assisted  by  the  tragic  poets,  ib.  Ilis  views 


490 


INDEX. 


counteracted  by  the  writers  of  the  old  comedy,  172. 
Is  seduced  by  the  arts  of  Aspasia.  175.  Attach- 
ment between  him  and  Alcibiades,213.  Condemns 
the  expedition  to  Sicily,  223.  Opposes  the  irregu- 
lar condemnation  of  the  admirals  accused  for  mis- 
conduct at  Arginussse,  257.  The  principal  causes 
of  his  prosecution,  269.  His  defence,  270.  Is  con- 
aemned,  271.  He  refuses  to  escape  from  prison, 
272.  His  conversation  with  his  friends  on  the  last 
day  of  his  life,  ib.  His  declared  motive  for  writing 
a hymn  to  Apollo,  272.  His  opinion  of  suicide, 
and  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  ib.  Is  warned 
to  die,  273.  His  death,  ib.  The  Athenians  honour 
his  memory,  274.  His  principal  disciples  and  fol- 
lowers, ib.  Philosophers  who  misrepresented  his 
tenets,  ib. 

Solon  of  Athens  restores  .and  improves  the  institu- 
tions of  Theseus,  62.  Animates  the  Amphictyonic 
council  to  revenge  the  violation  of  the  temple  at 
Delphi,  64.  Advises  the  consecration  of  the  Cirr- 
hean  plain  to  fulfil  the  oracle,  65.  His  conversa- 
tion with  Croesus  king  of  Lydia,  85.  His  summary 
of  human  life,  ib.  Relieves  the  Athenians  from 
the  laws  of  Draco,  162.  His  exalted  character,  ib. 
His  regulations  concerning  property,  163.  New 
models  the  government,  ib.  His  institutions  suited 
to  the  times,  ib.  His  division  of  the  citizens,  ib. 
His  system  of  education,  165. 

Sophists  of  Greece,  history  of  the,  169. 

Sosicles,  the  Corinthian  deputy  at  Sparta,  his  speech, 

100. 

Sparta,  Lvcurgus  driven  from  thence,  40.  The  prin- 
cipal objects  of  his  legislation,  41.  Institution  of 
the  ephori,  and  nature  of  their  office,  42.  Laws 
concerning  property,  ib.  The  use  of  iron  money 
introduced,  43.  Review  of  Spartan  manners,  44— 
47.  Causes  which  undermined  the  felicity  of 
Sparta,  47.  Description  of  Laconia,  48.  The 
people,  ib.  How  Sparta  gained  the  ascendancy 
over  the  other  cities  in  Laconia,  49.  Causes  of  the 
war  with  Messenia,  ib.  The  Spartans  seize  Am- 
pheia,  50.  And  ravage  the  country,  ib.  Indeci- 
sive battle  with  the  Messenians,  51.  End  of  the 
first  Messenian  war,  53.  Origin  of  the  Partheniae, 
54.  Conspiracy  with  the  Helots,  ib.  Revolt  of  the 
Messenians,  ib.  Battle  of  Derae,  55.  The  Spartans 
commanded  by  the  oracle  to  ask  a general  from 
Athens,  and  receive  the  poet  Tyrtaeus,  ib.  Tyr- 
taeus  animates  them  to  pursue  the  war,  56.  End 
of  the  second  Messenian  war,  60.  Insolent  op- 
pression of  the  Messenians,  62.  Alliance  with 
Croesus  king  of  Lydia,  87.  State  of,  at  the  time  of 
the  battle  of  Sardis,  89.  Defeat  of  the  Argives, 
ib.  Deputies  sent  to  observe  the  motions  of  Cyrus, 
92.  The  Spartans  endeavour  to  form  a confederacy 
to  check  the  power  of  the  Athenians,  99.  Domestic 
dissensions  between  Cleomenes  and  Demaratus, 
112.  The  straits  of  Thermopylae  defended  by  king 
Leonidas,  116.  Sperthies  and  Bulis  devote  them- 
selves for  their  country,  ib.  The  atonement  re- 
fused by  Xerxes,  117.  Battle  of  Thermopylae,  119. 
Address  of  the  Spartan  ambassadors  to  the  Athe- 
nians, 129.  They  desert  the  Athenians,  130.  Re- 
monstrate with  the  Athenians  on  the  fortifying  of 
their  city,  148.  Artful  embassy  of  Themistocles  to 
Sparta,  ib.  Treachery  of  Pausanias,  150.  The 
city  of  Sparta  destroyed  by  an  earthquake,  157. 
Revolt  of  the  Helots  and  Messenians,  ib.  The 
Peloponnesians  endeavour  to  engage  the  Spartans 
to  assist  them  against  the  Athenians,  186.  Pacific 
council  of  king  Archidamus,  187.  The  Spartans 
engage  in  the  Peloponnesian  wqr,  ib.  Operations 
of  the  Spartan  fleet,  199.  The  Spartans  solicit 
peace  at  Athens,  205.  Their  overtures  rejected, 
206.  They  apply  again,  207.  They  assist  the  re- 
volt of  Macedonia,  209.  Base  treatment  of  the 
Helots,  ib.  Peace  concluded  with  Athens,  212. 
Mutual  discontents  between  Sparta  and  Athens, 
214.  Renewal  of  the  war,  215.  Battle  of  Man- 
tinaea,  216.  Battle  of  ./Egos  Potamos,  259.  The 
city  of  Athens  taken  by  Lysander,  261.  Rapacity 


and  cruelty  of  the  Spartan  government,  262.  The 
Spartans  invade  Elis,  277.  Subdue  the  Eleans,  ib. 
Assist  Cyrus,  283.  Incur  the  resentment  of  Ar- 
taxerxes  by  this  measure,  297.  Thimbron  sent  to 
defend  the  JSolian  cities,  ib.  Dercyllidas  sent  to 
supersede  him,  ib.  Death  of  Agis,  and  disputed 
succession  to  the  crown,  299.  Agesilaus  declared 
successor,  ib.  Cinadon’s  conspiracy,  ib.  A jea- 
lousy of  the  Spartan  power  excited,  303.  The 
Spartans  take  arms  against  the  Thebans,  304.  A 
league  formed  against  Sparta,  305.  Pisander  de- 
feated at  sea  at  Cnidus,  307.  The  Spartans  solicit 
peace  with  Persia,  309.  Accept  the  terms  dictated 
by  Artaxerxes,  312.  Benefits  derived  from  this* 
eace,  313.  Their  ambitious  views,  314.  Their 
aughty  message  to  the  Mantinseans,  ib.  They 
assume  a regulating  power  over  Phlius,  315.  War 
commenced  in  Macedon,  316.  War  in  Bceotia,  321. 
Losses  by  sea,  322.  A congress  of  the  Grecian 
states  held  at  Sparta,  323.  The  Spartans  defeated 
on  the  plain  of  Leuctra,  327.  Their  singular  be- 
haviour on  this  event,  328.  They  in  vain  attempt 
to  recover  their  authority  in  Arcadia,  332.  Laconia 
invaded  by  the  Thebans,  333.  General  consterna- 
tion, ib.  A defensive  alliance  negotiated  at  Athens, 
334.  This  alliance  extended  and  confirmed,  336. 
Treaties  concluded  with  Sicily,  and  Persia,  ib. 
They  take  the  field  against  the  Arcadians,  337. 
Battle  of  Midea,  338.  The  Spartan  allies  solicit 
permission  to  negotiate  peace  with  Thebes  for 
themselves,  343.  Attempt  of  Epaminondas  to  sur- 
prise the  city  of  Sparta,  348.  The  Spartans  incur 
the  resentment  of  the  Amphictyonic  council,  375. 
They  claim  the  superintendance  of  the  temple  at 
Delphi,  395.  Philip  of  Macedon  required  to  check 
their  insolence  by  the  Amphictyonic  council,  402. 
They  solicit  the  assistance  of  the  Athenians,  ib 
The  Spartan  territories  ravaged  by  Philip,  404.  The 
Spartans  take  arms  against  Macedon  during  the  ab- 
sence of  Alexander,  but  are  reduced  by  Antipater, 
446. 

Spelman,  Mr.  a mistake  of,  corrected,  284.  (Note.) 

Sphacteria,  a body  of  Spartan  forces  blocked  up 
there  by  the  Athenians,  205.  Is  obstinately  de- 
fended, 206.  How  reduced,  ib. 

Sphodrias,  the  Spartan  general,  attempts  the  Pirceus 
of  Athens,  321.  Fails,  and  is  disgraced,  ib. 

Spitamenes  betrays  Bessus  the  murderer  of  Darius, 
444.  Opposes  Alexander,  ib.  His  death,  ib. 

Sporades,  derivation  of  the  names  of  those  islands,  307. 

Stadium  in  the  Grecian  public  games,  explained,  66. 

Statuary,  state  of,  at  the  close  of  the  social  war  of 
Athens,  356. 

Sthenelaides,  one  of  the  Spartan  ephori,  stirs  up  the 
Spartans  to  join  in  the  Peloponnesian  war  against 
Athens,  187. 

Stoicism,  the  name  of,  whence  derived,  274.  (Note.) 
467.  Tenets  of,  470. 

Strabo,  his  observation  on  the  first  historians  of 
Attica,  11.  (Note.) 

, justifies  the  report  of  Bacchus’s  expedition 

to  India,  449.  (Note.) 

Superstition,  its  causes  and  operation  in  Greece,  25. 

Sybaris , city  of,  by  whom  founded,  and  its  situation 
139.  Conquered  by  Milo  of  Crotona,  145. 

Syennesis,  governor  ofCilicia,  secures  himself  from  the 
arms  of  Cyrus  by  the  means  of  his  wife  Epyaxa,  283. 

Syracuse  founded  by  the  Corinthians,  133.  Reign  of 
Gelon,  145.  Reign  of  Hieron,  219.  Expulsion  of 
Thrasybulus,  and  establishment  of  a democracy,  ib. 
The  tyranny  of  this  city  distracts  the  whole  island, 
220.  The  city  described,  226.  Apprehensions  of 
the  citizens  on  the  approach  of  the  Athenian  fleet, 
ib.  The  stratagem  of  Nicias  to  seize  the  city,  227. 
The  scheme  defeated,  ib.  Nicias  gains  a victory 
over  them,  228.  Distress  and  relief  of  the  city,  229. 
The  besiegers  defeated  in  a general  engagement, 
232.  Again  defeated,  234.  Miserable  retreat  of 
the  Athenians,  236.  Banishment  of  Hermocrates, 
248.  Revolutions  of  the  city,  279.  Is  taken  by 
Marcellus  the  Roman  general,  281. 


INDEX.  491 


T 

Taochians,  their  desperate  opposition  to  the  Greeks 
under  Xenophon  and  Cheirisophus,  291. 

Tarentum  settled  by  Greeks,  54. 

Tarsus,  on  what  occasion  plundered  by  the  Grecian 
troops  of  Cyrus,  284. 

Taurus,  mount,  description  of,  448. 

Taxiles,  an  Indian  prince,  mutual  generosity  between 
him  and  Alexander  the  Great,  449. 

Tegea,  seizure  of  the  Elean  deputies  there  by  the 
Arcadians,  347.  Is  chosen  by  Epaminondas  as  a 
place  of  rendezvous  for  his  troops,  348. 

Tegeans,  their  contest  with  the  Athenians  in  the  con- 
federate army,  132. 

Teians,  desert  their  country,  when  attacked  by  the 
Persians,  193. 

Teleutias,  brother  of  Agesilaus,  invests  the  city  of 
Olynthus,  317  Is  killed,  ib. 

Tellus,  the  Athenian,  pronounced  a happy  man  by 
Solon,  85. 

Tempe,  valley  of,  described,  114.  Is  occupied  by 
Themistocles,  115.  Abandoned,  ib. 

Teribazus,  his  treacherous  behaviour  to  the  Greeks, 
291.  His  negotiations  with  Antalcidas,  310. 

Terpander  of  Lesbos,  his  history,  76. 

Thales,  the  poet,  disposes  the  Spartans  to  receive 
the  laws  of  Lycurgus,  41. 

— — , the  Milesian,  his  scientifical  discoveries,  168. 
His  school  and  successors,  ib. 

Thasos,  some  account  of  the  colony  settled  there,  74. 

Theatre,  Grecian,  circumstances  which  rendered  it 
extremely  liable  to  abuse,  353. 

Thebe,  queen  of  Thessaly,  her  interview  with  Pelopi- 
das  during  his  confinement,  340. 

Thebes , founded  by  Cadmus,  13.  Origin  of  the  war 
of,  17.  Revolt  of  the  inferior  cities  of  Bceotia  from, 
159.  Surprise  the  city  of  Plataea,  190.  The  inva- 
ders destroyed,  ib.  How  engaged  in  a war  with 
Sparta,  304.  Battle  of  Coronaea,  307.  The  The- 
bans agree  to  the  terms  of  Artaxerxes,  312.  The 
citadel  of,  betrayed  to  Phcebidas  the  Spartan,  318. 
Conspiracy  of  the  Theban  exiles,  319.  Circum- 
stances attending  its  execution,  ib  The  heads  of 
the  aristocratic  party  killed,  320.  The  democratic 
government  restored,  ib.  The  citadel  recovered 
from  the  Spartans,  ib.  Scheme  of  the  Thebans 
to  produce  a rupture  between  Athens  and  Sparta, 
321.  Their  cruel  treatment  of  the  Boeotian  cities, 
323.  Epaminondas  sent  as  deputy  to  Sparta,  ib. 
Account  of  the  sacred  band,  326.  Battle  of  Leuc- 
tra,  327.  Invasion  of  Laconia,  333.  A neutrality 
granted  to  the  Spartan  allies,  344.  Battle  of  Cy- 
noscephalte,  ib.  The  Thebans  destroy  the  city 
Orchomenus,  346.  Battle  of  Mantinrea,  349.  En- 
gage in  the  sacred  war  against  Phocis,  376.  Their 
embassy  to  Philip  of  Macedon,  396.  Their  tyranny 
over  the  Boeotians,  399.  The  Thebans  persuaded 
to  unite  against  Philip,  418.  Battle  of  Cheronaea, 
ib.  Harshly  treated  by  Philip,  419.  Demolition 
of  Thebes  by  Alexander  the  Great,  425. 

Themistocles,  his  character  and  pretensions  to  the 
command  of  the  Athenian  forces,  compared  with 
those  of  Aristides,  110.  Their  nvalship,  ib.  De- 
stroys the  fleets  of  Angina  and  Corcyra,  111.  Ex- 
horts his  countrymen  to  keep  up  their  military 
strength  by  land  and  sea,  ib.  Opposes  Xerxes  at 
the  vale  of  Temp6, 115.  Advises  the  Athenians  to 
trust  to  their  fleet,  in  obedience  to  the  oracle,  ib. 
His  expedient  to  detach  the  Ionians  from  the  Per- 
sians, 122.  His  prudent  advice  to  the  Grecian 
fleet,  125.  His  stratagem  to  draw  Xerxes  to  a 
naval  engagement,  126.  Is  joined  by  Aristides,  ib. 
Battle  of  Salamis,  ib.  His  scheme  to  accelerate 
the  flight  of  Xerxes,  128.  Honours  conferred  on 
him,  and  his  conduct  after  his  victory,  129.  Per- 
suades the  Athenians  to  fortify  their  city,  148. 
His  embassy  to  Sparta,  ib.  Builds  the  Pirseus, 
149.  Is  accused  by  the  Spartans  as  an  accom- 
plice with  Pausanias,  152.  His  banishment  and 
death,  ib. 


Theocles,  the  Messenian  diviner,  devotes  himself  to 
death  at  Eira,  to  intimidate  the  besiegers,  59. 

Theogony,  in  poetry,  explained,  72.  (Note.) 

Theopompus,  his  character  of  the  associates  of  Phi- 
lip of  Macedon,  382.  (Note.) 

Theramenes  restores  the  democracy  at  Athens,  246. 
His  embassy  to  Sparta,  260.  As  one  of  the  thirty 
tyrants  of  Athens  endeavours  to  mitigate  the  odious 
oppressions  of  his  colleagues,  265.  Is  accused  by 
Critias,  ib.  His  defence,  265.  Is  violently  dragged 
to  death,  ib. 

Thermopylxe,  straits  of,  described,  116.  Are  guarded 
by  the  Greeks  to  stem  the  progress  of  Xerxes,  ib 
An  attack  of  the  Persians  repulsed,  117.  Memo- 
rable battle  of,  119.  The  Thebans  desert  to  the 
Persians,  120.  Monuments  erected  in  memory  of 
this  battle,  ib.  Philip  of  Macedon  stopped  there 
by  the  Athenians,  379.  Seized  by  Philip,  392. 

Theseus,  his  voyage  to  Crete,  and  treatment  by  Minos, 
18.  Introduces  the  Cretan  institutions  into  At- 
tica, ib. 

Thessalus  impeaches  Alcibiades  of  impiety,  225. 

Thessaly,  great  part  of,  reduced  under  the  dominion 
of  Jason  of  Pherae,  329.  Revolutions  of  this  coun- 
try after  the  death  of  Jason,  333.  The  Thessalians 
apply  to  Thebes  for  protection  against  their  king 
Alexander,  345.  Battle  of  Cynoscephalae,  ib.  The 
affairs  of  that  country  settled  by  Philip  king  of 
Macedon,  373.  Why  Philip  selected  his  friends 
from  among  the  Thessalians,  382.  Is  reduced  by 
Philip  to  a Macedonian  province,  401. 

Thimbron  is  sent  from  Sparta  to  assist  the  iEolian 
cities  against  Tissaphernes,  297.  Is  reinforced  by- 
the  Greek  troops  under  Xenophon,  ib.  His  re- 
pulse at  Larissa  occasions  his  recall,  ib. 

Thrace,  the  coast  of,  reduced  by  Cimon  the  Grecian 
commander,  153.  Expedition  of  Brasidas  the 
Spartan  general  to,  210.  The  commotions  there 
settled,  and  the  country  reduced  to  a Macedonian 
province,  by  Philip,  406. 

Thrasybulus,  king  of  Syracuse,  his  character,  and 
expulsion  from  Sicily,  220. 

, tyrant  of  Miletus,  his  expedient  to  dis- 
pose Alyattes  king  of  Lydia  to  peace,  83. 

of  Athens,  heads  an  insurrection  in  the 

camp  at  Samos,  245.  Conducts  Alcibiades  to  the 
camp,  ib.  Gains  a naval' victory  over  the  Pelopon- 
nesians, 247.  He  impeaches  Alcibiades  in  the  Atlfe- 
nian  assembly,'  253.  His  character,  266.  Seizes 
Phrygia,  and  defeats  the  thirty  tyrants,  ib.  Sur- 
prises the  Pireeus,  267.  Gives  the  tyrants  another 
defeat,  ib.  llis  proclamation  to  the  vanquished 
fugitives,  ib.  Is  invested  in  the  Piraeus  by  Lysan- 
der,  ib.  Returns  to  the  city  through  the  media- 
tion of  Pausanias,  268.  Procures  a general  amnes- 
ty, 269.  His  naval  enterprises  and  death,  311. 

Thrasyllus  encourages  the  revolt  in  the  Athenian 
camp  at  Samos,  245.  Suffers  a defeat  at  Ephesus, 
248.  Regains  his  honour  before  the  walls  of  Aby- 
dus,  ib. 

Thucydides,  general  remarks  on  his  history  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  11.  (Note.)  His  activity  as 
Athenian  commander  of  Thasos,  210.  Is  banished 
by  the  Athenians,  211.  His  character  of  Hyperbo- 
lus, 244.  (Note.)  His  youthful  admiration  of  He- 
rodotus, and  his  own  character  as  an  historian, 
276.  Comparison  between  him  and  Herodotus,  ib. 
His  work  continued  by  Xenophon,  ib. 

Thyrea,  the  possession  of,  contested  by  the  Spartans 
and  the  Argives,  89. 

Tigris,  contrivance  for  the  passage  of  the  Greeks 
under  Xenophon  over  that  river,  290. 

Timagoras,  the  Athenian  deputy  at  the  court  of  Ar- 
taxerxes, 341.  Is  condemned  to  death,  ib.  (Note.) 

Timandra,  the  mistress  of  Alcibiades,  is  spared  by 
those  who  put  him  to  death,  266. 

Timanthes,  the  Grecian  painter,  his  great  power  of 
expression,  358. 

Timoclea,  a Theban  matron,  her  heroism,  426. 

Timoleon  puts  an  end  to  the  tyranny  of  Dionysius 
the  younger,  in  Syracuse,  281. 


492 


INDEX. 


Tisamenes,  king  of  Lacedaemon,  dispossessed  of  his 
dominions  by  the  Heraclidae,  34.  His  death,  ib. 

Tissaphem.es , the  Persian  general,  is  sent  by  Darius 
Nothus  to  quell  the  revolt  in  Asia  Minor,  239. 
Protects  Alcibiades  from  the  resentment  of  Agis 
king  of  Sparta,  242.  Accuses  Cyrus  of  treason, 
282.  Concludes  a truce  with  the  Grecian  army, 
287.  His  treachery,  288.  Seizes  the  Grecian  gene- 
rals,* ib.  Is  rewarded  by  Artaxerxes  with  the  spoils 
of  Cyrus,  297.  Attacks  the  J2olian  cities  under 
the  Spartan  government,  ib.  His  treaty  with  Der- 
cyllidas,  298.  His  treacherous  negotiations  with 
Agesilaus,  300.  Is  deceived  by  the  military  policy  of 
Agesila^is,  301.  Is  put  to  death  by  Artaxerxes,  302. 

Tithraustes,  is  employed  by  Artaxerxes  to  put  Tissa- 
pherces  to  death,  and  to  succeed  to  his  command 
in  Lower  A«a,  302.  Sends  an  embassy  to  Agesi- 
laus, ib.  Corrupts  leading  men  in  the  several 
Grecian  states,  303. 

Tragedy , Greek,  origin  of  the,  172.  How  distinguish- 
ed from  comedy,  ib. 

T'rebisond,  city  of,  hospitable  reception  of  the  Greeks 
there,  under  Xenophon  and  Cheirisophus,  293.  Its 
present  state  described,  ib.  (Note.) 

Trenches , battle  of,  between  the  Spartans  and  Mes- 
senians,  56. 

Troy , review  of  the  Grecian  armament  sent  against 
that  city,  19.  The  kingdom  of,  described,  20.  De- 
rivation of  the  names  Troas  and  Ilion,  ib.  Causes 
of  the  Trojan  war,  ib.  Is  besieged  by  the  Greeks, 
21.  Is  taken  and  destroyed,  ib.  Its  subsequent 
history,  22. 

Tymceus , the  first  historian  who  arranged  his  narra- 
tive according  to  the  Olympiads,  11.  (Note.) 

Tyrant , in  Grecian  history,  the  true  import  of  the 
term  explained,  83.  (Note.) 

Tyrants,  thirty,  established  over  the  city  of  Athens, 

t after  its  reduction  by  Lysander,  263.  Their  rapa- 
cious and  cruel  conduct,  ib.  Are  opposed  by  Thra- 
sybulus,  266.  They  retire  to  Eleusis,  267.  Are 
defeated  by  Thrasybulus,  ib.  Are  deposed,  268. 

Tyre,  embassies  from  that  city  to  Alexander  the 
Great,  436.  Description  of  the  city,  ib.  The  city 
besieged  by  Alexander,  ib.  The  inhabitants  re- 
duced, 438. 

TyrUeus,  the  Athenian  poet,  sent  to  command  the 
Spartans  against  the  Messenians,  55.  Animates 
the  Spartans  to  persevere  in  the  war,  56. 

U 

Ulysses,  king  of  Ithaca,  his  embassy  to  Troy  on  be- 
half of  Menelaus,  21. 

V 

Venus,  encomium  on  the  Cnidian  statue  of,  356. 

Victors,  at  the  Olympic  games,  their  emulation  and 
rewards,  80. 

Virtue,  the  origin  and  nature  of,  according  to  Plato, 
361.  Moral  inquiry  into,  on  the  principles  of  the 
Peripatetics,  469.  How  to  be  attained,  ib.  The 
hardest  task  of,  ib.  How  estimated  by  the  Stoics, 

473. 

W 

War , how  carried  on,  during  the  heroic  ages  of 
Greece,  30.  Its  laws,  ib. 

Warburlon,  Bishop,  his  opinion  of  the  necessity  of 
the  doctrine  of  a future  state  to  the  support  of  the 
Grecian  Govemmenjs,  not  justified  by  the  Grecian 
writers,  24. 


Weapons  of  war,  those  generally  used  during  th« 
heroic  ages  of  Greece,  30. 

Women,  their  condition  and  rank  during  the  heroic 
ages  of  Greece,  23.  Their  occupations  and  amuse- 
ments, 29.  How  treated  by  the  laws  of  Lycurgm 
at  Sparta,  45.  A general  review  of  the  rank  they 
held,  and  their  treatment,  174. 

Wrestling,  how  practised  in  the  ancient  gymnastic 
exercises,  66. 

Writers,  the  most  ancient  pointed  out,  11.  (Note.) 

X 

Xantippe,  the  wife  of  Socrates,  her  final  parting  with 
him,  272. 

Xantippus,  his  persecution,  the  cause  of  the  death  ot 
Miltiades,  109.  Is  not  deemed  worthy  to  succeed 
him,  ib.  Defeats  the  Persians  at  Mycale,  136. 

Xenophon,  his  account  of  the  operation  of  the  laws 
of  Lycurgus  at  Sparta,  43.  Of  the  Spartan  art  of 
war,  44.  Of  the  Persian  institutions,  86.  Of  the 
expedition  of  Cyrus  into  Upper  Asia,  283.  Of  the 
death  of  Cyrus,  286.  His  reply  to  the  imperious 
demands  of  Artaxerxes,  287.  His  address  to  the 
Greeks  after  the  seizure  of  their  generals  by  Tissa- 
hernes,  283.  Is  elected  one  of  their  generals,  239. 
_femorable  retreat  of  the  Greeks  from  Asia  under 
his  conduct,  ib.  Proposes  to  settle  on  the  coast 
of  the  Euxine  sea,  294.  Is  vested  with  the  sole 
command  of  the  troops  on  the  death  of  Cheiriso- 
phus, ib.  Prevails  on  them  not  to  plunder  Byzan- 
tium, 295.  His  troops  hired  by  Seuthes,  a Thracian 
adventurer,  ib.  Conducts  them  afterward  into  the 
service  of  Sparta,  297.  Attends  Agesilaus  in  his 
war  with  Persia,  303.  His  history  ends  with  the 
battle  of  Mantinaea,  351.  (Note.)  His  character  as 
a writer,  358.  How  he  was  engaged  in  the  expe- 
dition of  Cyrus,  359.  His  subsequent  military  em- 
ployments and  retreats,  ib.  Is  driven  to  Corinth, 
ib.  His  literary  performances,  ib. 

Xerxes,  king  of  Persia,  his  preparations  for  an  inva- 
vasion  of  Greece,  112.  Amount  of  his  forces,  ib. 
His  passage  over  the  Hellespont,  113.  Cuts  a 
canal  through  the  isthmus  of  Sana,  ib.  His  re- 
flection on  the  review  of  his  immense  army,  114. 
Receives  the  submission  of  the  Grecian  communi- 
ties, ib.  His  march  to  the  plains  of  Trachis,  116. 
His  negotiation  with  the  Spartans,  117.  His  in- 
quiry into  their  character,  ib.  His  astonishment  at 
the  repulse  of  his  troops  at  Thermopylae,  118.  The 
Greeks  betrayed  to  him  by  Epialtes,  ib.  His  nar- 
row escape  when  Leonidas  surprised  his  camp, 
119.  Battle  of  Thermopylae,  ib.  He  advances 
toward  Attica,  123.  Ravages  the  territory  of 
Phocis,  ib.  His  attempt  on  Delphi,  how  frustrated, 
ib.  Enters  Attica,  124.  Prevailed  on  to  risk  the 
battle  of  Salamis,  126.  Views  the  engagement 
from  Mount  .-Egialos,  ib.  His  fleet  defeated,  i27. 
His  disgraceful  retreat  from  Greece,  ib.  His  flight 
accelerated  by  the  artifice  of  Themistocles,  128 

Y 

Youth,  duties  and  employments  of,  at  Athens,  ac- 
cording to  the  institutions  of  Solon,  165. 

Z 

Zeno,  account  of  his  philosophy,  470. 

Zeuxis,  the  Grecian  painter,  account  of  his  princioal 
works,  357. 

Zoroaster , the  founder  of  the  Persian  religion,  his 
peculiar  doctrines,  95. 


THE  END 


